This returns to the theme of Friday’s blog, about the sheer range (and idiocy) of some of the topics I’ve written on.
Let’s start with people. I’m not sure if vampires and zombies are strictly people, but they’re in human form, and I’ve written about them, so they’re in. Not sure if somebody over 150 years old counts either, but he’s there. My friend Kev appears frequently, and not only because, as I have pointed out in the past, he’s a big fan of this blog.
Then there are the charlatans. I really go to town on these. Dr Hannemann, the father of modern homeopathy, gets dragged over the coals a couple of times. Jamie Sherrill, a ‘celebrity skin advisor’ with her room full of oxygen. Gwyneth Paltrow and her vaginal steam cleaning and ozone enemas. The Helmsley sisters and the rest of the ‘clean eaters,’ or those who follow the palaeo diet.
Astrologers and mediums. I’ve stuck it to them in a big way.
Hipsters in general. I’ve mocked them fiercely on occasion.
A new circle of hell awaits religious wackjobs of whatever persuasion they may be. They’ll be joined by the antivaxxer brigade. And the smugly sanctimonious PETA, who feel it’s wrong to kill animals but OK to kill people.
I have a special dislike for Jo Willey, the ‘science editor’ of the Daily Express. She is responsible for cranking out all the widely inaccurate reports of the latest health scares. I suspect she hasn’t got any scientific or medical background at all. This of course doesn’t stand in the way of her opinions.
The Daily Mail. This has had the sharp edge of my tongue more times than I think I can recollect. The combination of its rabid support of the Toff party, and its endless casual racism drives me to distraction. As does its penchant for pullout supplements of photos of the Royal Family. I read it to keep my blood pressure up. (When Kev worked in my local he barred me from reading it. Do you know anybody else who has been publicly barred from reading a paper?)
I had a flirtation with haiku. Then to make things more interesting, I started writing them in the style of my alter ego Lee Roy Fuckwit, the baccy-chewing redneck NASCAR driver from a trailer park in Gatorville in South Carolina.
Actually, Lee Roy took on a life of his own. He pops up all over the place. As does his fictional family, Lulabelle and Lee Roy Senior, his fictional friends Bubba, Dubba, and Hubba Scruggs; and the delightful Flatt triplets Charlene, Darlene, and Marlene, children to Randy and Tits. His excesses were offset by my other alter ego, the somewhat starchy Missie B. They got to meet each other in a four-part story I was cajoled into writing by a WP friend of mine.
I could go on, but I won’t. It’s been fun hasn’t it, Ra?