Anyway, I was watching Blue Peter, and this little kid comes on and starts 'DJ'ing on some 'decks'. He was really 'throwing down' some 'phat' 'beats'. I truly felt like 'hitting the dancefloor' and 'dancing' to the 'music'. Then after he was finished, the resident Blue Peter twat presenter came on and complimented him for like twenty minutes, before putting on some really rockin' music (no, it wasn't Linkin Park***, it was Old McDonald Had a Farm... not a joke) and mixing really badly for a bit. Well, I say mixing badly as though I have any idea what mixing well sounds like... but I assume that it doesn't sound like that. Then he congratulated this little 8 year old kid on being able to master this skill, then they all waved at the camera and acted really happy.
This annoyed me for several reason. Firstly, the little kid was crappy at DJ ing. I mean, it was just the same sound over and over again. I thought proper DJs did songs and shit, and sing. They don't just make some record go 'yeah wha-' over and over again. That doesn't require skill, just general hand to eye co-ordination. I mean, a guy with no legs could do it, and it's a commonly held fact that the only thing that guys with no legs are good at is keeping doors propped open. And to be honest, no matter how many lame-o little dance moves you do while 'scratching' the 'decks', it doesn't change the fact that all you're doing is moving some bits of plastic back and forth.
Secondly was the way that they all idolised this little kid for being 8 and being able to DJ mediocrely. ONLY EIGHT, AND ALREADY NOT BEING VERY GOOD AT AN URBAN SPORT. The little chap had chosen the name 'DJ YEAH' for himself. Because he's a DJ, and he says 'yeah' a lot, I guess. Woah, man, I just got a headrush from all the originality. DJ Yeah. If I was a DJ I'd call myself DJ Thomas. Or DJ Dinner Jacket. Or DJ Hitler. Or MC Swivel-Post. Or DJ YOUR MUM. Or MC Squared Equals E. Or Archduke Ferdinand. Or even just DJ Dance Music Sucks. But this isn't a post about how much dance music sucks. It's actually a post about how much I dislike talented children.
Immediately after DJ Yeah left they introduced another little kid, some little pikey gyppo waste of space called Callum or something who spent his time boxing and writing poems. He was obviously a few brain cells short of a fully working intelligent brain, but the presenter was all really impressed at his shitty piece of poetry, which sounded something like this:
Different, by some pikey kid
I'm so lonely
Walking along the street people laugh at me
Different different different
Differnet different
I wipe away a tear
I want to be brave
Different different different different
But it's what inside that's important
It went on like this for a while. It was crap. Where's the rhythmic structure? What about the iambic pentameter? I bet if Shakespears was around to listen to this crappy piece of poetry, he'd roll around in his grave. Listen, gypsy-boy, this is not good work. You obviously tried your best, and in the eyes of me, you were found WANTING. Now piss off and make me a martini.
And another thing. If you don't want people to call you a fucking gypsy, DON'T go on Blue Peter talking about how you're a gypsy and how you live in a caravan and how everybody hates you cos you're different. And way to dispell the idea that all gypsies are stupid drunken brawling hippies by conducting your interview:
- Doing situps in the campsite with a bunch of mangy dogs
- Sitting on a manky sofa IN a caravan with an obviously disgusted presenter
- At a boxing club
He was a moron. But what does it matter? He was just a little kid, so everyone was highly impressed at his achievements (joining a boxing club and slaughtering the English language). Why? When you break it down, he wasn't THAT interesting. Like, he wasn't particulary good at boxing, and other than that, his only selling points were that he lived in a caravan and probably stole garden gnomes and set fire to dogs in his spare time. Big woop. I could take up boxing and write a stupid poem if I wanted to. Do you reckon Blue Peter would come and film me? Why, I think NOT. Hey, look at me, I got 9/10 A*s in my GCSEs and I'll probably go on to have a career that isn't working in a junk yard with all the other pikey kids. Gimme a Blue Peter badge. Actually, screw it, I'll just punch my little sister in the head and take hers.
Another example: everyone's always really impressed when babies start talking. I can talk, look at me. Hell, I'm probably much smarter than your baby. And I can run faster than it too. I could probably drop kick it, then run and catch it on the second bounce, that's how much faster I am. I RULE.
Basically, children who display any sort of skill in anything annoy me. Like there's this twat in my year at school who's like the best canoeist in Britain or something. I've never met him, never said a word to him, but I dislike him at a base and elemental level. And those 8 year old twats who spend their childhoods getting top A-levels in things like maths. WELL DONE BOYS, YOU HAVE AN A LEVEL IN THE MOST BORING SUBJECT EVER, NOW YOU CAN GO TO UNIVERSITY EARLY AND NOT BE VERY POPULAR AND NOT HAVE A CHILDHOOD. Rinsed. I guess it's because I'm of the opinion that everybody younger than me should be worse at me at everything. It's like one of those universal facts that I wish was true, just to make the world just that little bit saner. BUT IT NEVER HAPPENS. I can't even fix a damn bike tyre without rubber-moulding my fingers together. I bet there's some 6 year old out there with his own bike-maintenance garage. Well, fuck him. His testicles haven't even dropped yet. AT LEAST I CAN SING TENOR. Well, I can't really, but its within my physical capabilities, right? I don't care.
BUT GOOD NEWS, EVERYBODY: THE NEW BLUE PETER KITTEN HAS DIED IN A MYSTERIOUS AND TRAGIC ACCIDENT. I'm not joking, that actually put a smile on my face when I found out. Am I an evil person? Well I cackled when I found out about Hurricane Rita, so odds are that I am.
*Insert image of a kitten exploding here.
*AKA Neighbours, AKA the best show EVAR, AKA shut up.
**Which, coincidentally, is what happened to my dear matey Oliver. Except apparently 'the back wheel fell off', and instead of just taking the cool manly pain, apparently he whinged about it a lot to his girlfriend and got loads of sympathy. Did I mention that this was the SECOND time in a week that he'd fallen off his bike? What a fucking retard. But we all love you really, Oli. We love you so much. We hope that you and us never has to end. We love you. So much. Mwah mwah mwah baby.
***Come on, this is a KID'S TV SHOW. Do you really want to blow the collective minds of the entire nation by playing Linkin P at teatime?)
This post was brought to you by retarded looking scanned Spider Man:
Ooh, just look at him with his extra chromosone.
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