Monday 12 December 2011


So Young Apprentice came to an end and the best one won it; which is no normal thing for a reality show¹.

I was glad that the fat Ulsterian didn’t win it because I didn’t like him. I didn’t like his accent – I don’t like the accent of people from Northern Ireland².

I can’t really be arsed writing much more – the footnotes kind of took it out of me [more booze,I’m afraid. Leavecember is achieving nothing]. I just wanted to say I am glad Zara won because I didn’t really like all the shit she seemed to get off people (not saying any of it was off anyone who lives in my flat and isn’t me) for being well-spoken. In the final bit where they had the little head-to-head before Sir Alan appointed her ‘winner’ the NI lad, James, said something about how he didn’t use flowery language to dress things up and that he just said it like it is (one of the ten things you need to be saying to his sucreness). She, very well, defended herself pointing out that her eloquence just involved a grasp of the English language above the norm and she was at no stage talking nonsense. Well she didn’t quite say it that well, I had to tidy it up boom boom.

But Sir Alan Sugar seemed to agree with James even after she had pointed out that all she was guilty off was being eloquent and confident while speaking – and possessing a decent vocabulary. To be fair at points throughout she did seem to be trying to say something using long words when she didn’t really know what it meant/used it wrongly. I just don’t think someone should be looked down upon for trying to speak intelligently – especially when her faltering was rare. Especially by a man who cant pronounce resume and someone with a slow, grinding Northern Irish accent, pair of fucking idiots.

Just one more thing…(yeah I Columno’d you).. if he’d won James was going to use the money to study Economics at University. Sorry – I know fees an ting is fucked but that’s not what The Apprentice is about. It could be what swung Sugarhead towards the Brownless one. He didn’t say “Uni-fucking-versity, are you taking the piss you fucking plum? I dint need no university to help me, I was selling suitcases – OUT OF SUITCASES – \TO suitcases at 6 in the morning before my paper round” etc. Fat fuck (James) wants to get in debt like every other cunt OR enter a reality show where the prize is a university education NOT a reality show where EVERY week they make you do stuff about selling and then at the end say they aren’t looking for a sales person and the prize is money to help start entrepreneurial ventures.

¹This is not a dig at Little Mix from X Factor. I didn’t really see of any it this year so refuse to judge them/other contestants. I have – despite my thought that it would be best if I didn’t – listened to the cover of Cannonball and thought – at best – it was really shit. And not just in that ‘I liked Damien Rice when no-one knew who he was’ wanker way that I could mean it (because I liked Damien Rice when no-one knew who he was) but in a ‘that’s a terrible cover version of a beautiful song’ way. I am not saying they have no passion, I am not saying that they are unable to put the necessary sense of heartbreak in to the song. And I am certainly not saying they are too young to be able to do either – and anyone who would say that would be saying nonsense: stuff and nonsense. What I am saying that THIS version of THIS song had no passion <<audience boos>> and didn’t make me think that the voices singing it understood the feeling behind the song at all <<boos get louder>>. I did see them do a song in the final and that was also really poor; though I don’t think a vocal harmony of Silent Night is the best song for a feisty pop band to be doing. So, now you know what I think.

²There are people who will say that’s racist – well to those people I say this: it’s not. Sorry: can’t help quoting Partridge at times. It’s not though – I HATE the accent – I don’t think the people are bad because of it, I just don’t want to hear them speak. Ditto Birmingham. You can’t pretend you’re not knocked sick by someone’s voice because you want to be politically correct. I don’t want to lynch people from Northern Ireland. Or make them get on their own bus – and fuck knows they know about segregation – I just don’t want to listen to someone with a Northern Irish accent talk. Yes: lynching them would mean I didn’t have to hear them speak; certainly if they weren’t allowed on the same bus as me I couldn’t hear them speak, but that’s not how I roll.  And anyone who says a little part of me died when the IRA stopped killing Northern Irish people really better watch their step: because that’s going too far.

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