I have a new follower?

VOILA! Here is a ridiculous post showing my gratitude to this poor soul that has decided to follow my blog. Thank you! I feel loved for once... sort of.

WE ARE THE X-FACTOR GENERATION

Here's Katie... I mean Beryl? Well, not actually her. She's
fictional. This is from the internet.

Here is a story, all about Katie. She is a hypothetical Katie, completely made up. If there is actually someone out there called Katie who has a story that runs parallel to this, I sincerely apologise as it must be a coincidence. May be the name could be substituted for Beryl? I find that not enough Beryls tend to be represented in works of utter fiction these days, so I think I may give the name Beryl a shot. So yes. This isn't a story about Katie, this is a story about Beryl. However, I guess it must run a similar course to many other girls out there, because Beryl isn't a special girl at all. Nothing out of the ordinary, just like all of the other girls out there.

OFF ON'T LASH MERT

Like all of the other girls out there, Beryl wanted to be famous. She didn't care what for, she just wanted to be famous, have lots of money and not really work very hard. She also watched a lot of tv. On tv, ordinary people, just like her, got famous very quickly. They made lots of money and were very happy. One day, Beryl thought that she could do this too. So, she signed up for the X-factor to go on and then be a star.

When it came to the day, she froze up in front of the judges, and gave them a mediocre performance. However, before they had time to boot her off, she came up with something ever so beautiful. It went a little something like this:
"Ere mert, I know my singing's proper gash like, but you should totally put me through cos I got a well good sob story and this ain't no singing contest and you know that, it's a total personality contest." The judges looked at each other and reluctantly nodded. "I've 'ad an 'ard life, innit. Me mam's blind and I have 15 brothers and sisters an 'ave to look after them and cook and clean and shit. I got knocked up when i were younger, kid's father tried to knife me then found out that the kid has downs syndrome. I was like, it's all your fault mert, but he was like proper gash innit and walked out on me and his kid. My brother said he'd bray im when 'e's older..." She continued in such a fashion that the judges let her through on the sympathy vote. With a performance like that, they couldn't possibly turn down such a diamond in the rough.

The dream?

In the preceding weeks, autotune was on Beryl's side, and the nation loved her. Everyone could relate to her, and she ended up winning the public vote and the nation's hearts. And the competition. And shit loads of money. The people who usually slander the show had given up on criticising it after 15 years of the same sort of drivel, and had decided to start concerning themselves with political commentary instead. That meant that dear Beryl was saved from the usual facebook and similar social media slating that previous contestants had been subect to the wrath of. And now she was free. SHE WAS FAMOUS.

Upon winning the competition, she made a call to her best friend and went something as follows:
"ERE MERT GUESS FUCKIN' WOT!!!!!!"
"YOO WOT DICK'ED?!!!!" her friend replied.
"I JUST WON THAT FUCKIN SINGIN COMPETITION DIN'T I AND NOW I'M LOADED. You fancy goin out and gettin pissed to celebrate?"
"WHITE LIGHTNING TO CELEBRATE?"
"FINK WE CAN BE MORE UPMARKET LIEK. GET SOME LAMBRINI DICK'ED. FUCK MCAT LADY, LET'S GET US SOME COKE"

Everyone's fave.

Two weeks later, she lands washed up on her sofa with £2.56 to her name and a pack of tobacco to keep her company. She's off to the jobcentre soon to get back on the dole innit.