It’s a fantastic idea

I’m going to write a book where all the lead characters have the same names as the literary critics of the major papers and magazines. They’ll all be fantastically good looking, rich, charismatic… the beautiful people. Journalists – critics especially – are all ego monsters. All that “I think this” and “I think that.” The idea that they are paid to give their opinions, how could they not be? I’m going to call it “Jade: My Story”. It’s a belt-and-braces thing here. You have a look in any bookshop and that’s all there is: books by Jade, books about Jade, books by Jade about Jade. Bless her and all, but all you’ve got to do is put her name on the cover and… well, she’s not going to complain is she? Max Clifford might but I figure as long as you don’t put a surname to it… could be any old Jade.
I’m growing to love my new phone. Very touchy feely, all that fingers across the screen stuff. I can’t actually make any calls on it yet but I think sometimes we ask too much of technology. I’m sitting here on the train, we’re flying through the beautiful countryside and I’m listening to The Bays – my still new favourite band. What could be finer? I had been feeling a little jaded but a bit of The Bays….
Jaded. That’s it. The title of my new book. Jaded. Actually, I’ve been thinking. By the time I’ve finished the book – about 20 years time at the current rate. No, by the time I’ve finished the book and the thing comes out we’re talking about what? 18 months? Easy. No one will have a clue who Jade is, sorry was. It’ll be lost. She, bless her and all, won’t even be a footnote. What I need to do is think of the next Jade – or maybe the Jade of about three Jade’s time. 18 months? That’s about three Jades, no? six months is possibly a bit generous, but hey, let’s go easy one her.
Hayward’s Heath. Home of the good idea. And I’ve got the good idea. We’ll call the book “Gordon Brown: My Story”. About as much chance as Spurs winning the Champions League.

Modern Life

Blimey. It's not even 11am and already I'm done in. I've got three blogs, a Facebook account to maintain and now I've got 11 people following me on Twitter. And they're all waiting for me to do something interesting. But I haven't got time to do anything cos I'm too busy telling people what I'm doing.
Life used to be so much simpler. Should I have a Curly Wurly or some Spangles? That used to be life's biggest dilemma. Last night I tried to watch some telly. By the time I finished checking out what was on it was time to go to bed.
In the time it’s taken me to write that I’ve got another three followers. That’s eight. It’s hard not to feel a bit Life of Brian. What do they want, these people?
Now Martino has told me that there’s this thing called 12 Seconds where you post up 12 seconds of video footage of yourself twice a day. Why 12 seconds? Because anything more than that it boring. Already 140 characters – including spaces – is boring.