Would You Like To Be Famous?

Post 299

Hey, what? I thought I was famous. Oh. Okay. That’s how it is, eh? No, I’m kidding. I’m about as famous as the mother of that sneezing panda cub. Oh, the tragedy. To be usurped by your child. Mind you, pandas don’t have a concept of YouTube. Be a bit weird if they did. Although it would explain why they’re not breeding. Regardless, this is my 299th post. You’d think I’d make it my 300th, but I wanted to make that about underwear, so, that’s what it is.

I suppose it depends what I’m famous for. Singing. Not likely. Just ask my bathroom tiles. And it’s not the only thing they’re mortified about. Some heroic deed. Mmm, maybe. Something else. Yes, I said something else. I ran out of ideas and this paragraph sort of became useless. Ah, well. Fame is fame, I suppose. But would I like it?

You’d have to deal with the paparazzi, for a start. Wherever you go. And punching them is frowned upon these days. Shame, really. Instead of, “Oh, you a want a piece of me, bitch!” it’s now “Oh, I’m going to take you to court and get you a restraining order and some kind of injunction, bitch!” Sigh. What happened to the old days? The press are the tip of the iceberg. My ‘friends’ will start selling me out to the press. I’ll get new ‘friends’ who are only interested in my money. Everyone will pretend to know me whilst the press will actually get to know me by hacking my phone. I’ll get recognized everywhere I go. It would be a massive inconvenience. People would follow me. They may even try to kidnap me, but my life isn’t very exciting so that may be a welcome development. You know, up to the point when they cut off one of my fingers. I’d need to hire people to manage my life. With that comes pressure and stress. And think of all that money they’ll take off me. People will judge me for everything. I’ll have strangers prying into my sex life or lack thereof, spreading rumours and gossip. And what about dating? Will people date me for my dashing good looks or will people date me just to see what my wang looks like?

I wouldn’t want any of that. Fame isn’t my game. If I become famous, that’s a big ‘if’, then I’d keep my head down. Stay out of the limelight. Choose wisely. Acquire some street smarts. Keep my head screwed on. And so forth. But if I had a choice, no, I wouldn’t be famous. I’d just be little old me.

The Friday Bonus Question:

Plucked from the basement of the internet, a bewildering real question that defies logic and an answer, here for you to ponder:

Are knickers the answer?

Ciao :)(:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the little bubble on the top right if you are on the Archives Page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

The Indelible Life of Me
Click Here To Read The Latest Post

Hark Around The Words
Click Here To Read The Latest Post


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