Oh Just Fuck Off, Lily Allen
Dear Lily,
Go away. Just … go away.
Yours, Sweary
I know that the “Just Go Away” is supposed to come at the end of one of these jokey “Letter To An Annoying Star” thingies, that I’m supposed to be lyrical and amusing before winding into the succinct “oh, just go fuck yourself”; a pre-emptetive paying of my way, perhaps, to make the reading worth your time. But I really cannot be fucking arsed. I have had a really hard day at work, I’m bloody shattered, and I’m facing into another one tomorrow. So there you go. It’s all out in the open now, about as eloquent as a mudslide.
I am bloody sick of this Lily Allen mumbo-vagumbo. I was sick of Lily Allen and her bratty, hyperbolic, chronically-inflamed ego years ago. And I’m not suggesting that she’s doing it to spite me, but she’s still trundling on, despite all of my prayers to higher powers, and my voodoo, and … Oh, for Jesus’ sake. The woman has drained me to such an extent that I can barely bother my … hole … to finish neither sentence nor alliteration. She wearies me, and she has no idea she’s doing it. She’s a blind fucking juggernaut of mockney fucktardery; she runs over me daily and I can’t even say she’s doing it maliciously. Oh, I am so tired of her. So, so tired.
I’m not going to dive into her latest stunt, for fear I’d choke on the potent level of Thick involved, but lookit, you should know what she’s been up to by now, being an internet-savvy individual with enough sparkle in your eye to land on Coddlepot consciously. She’s been ranting about illegal downloads with the pomp and wisdom of an inbred aristocrat, not that I’m suggesting that Lily is an inbred aristocrat, but she’s certainly nearer to it than I am.
That wearies me too – the “Nah, I were dragged up in a council estate, innit?” act, despite the celebrity heritage, fame-stained family friends, and public school education. The “I woz in da shit wit coke when I were only fifteen, innit?” crap, when the true working classes could never have afforded such a glorious defect; how I dreamed of having a coke problem when I was fifteen, but alas, I had to get my kicks licking the concrete outside the local nightclub.
Anyway, it’s nice that Ms. Allen has some convictions outside of the one she wishes she had for glamorous drug-dealing or something equally Dahn Wiv Mah Publick, but let’s face it, her latest whinny over how illegal downloading’s ruining music has made her look like a prize prannet. Oh, just look it up; I’m not going to regurgitate the sorry affair here because I’m just too shagged by the whole stupid saga – complete lack of understanding of anything she was harping on about was order of the day, though, but you’re hardly surprised, are you? Bleating about things you don’t quite get is order of the day and vegetable of the season with Lily Allen. Illegal downloading, drug dealing (and why is drug dealing ok if file-sharing isn’t? I guess file-sharing is too accessible to be edgy), tit-flashing, how to interpret Pulp’s “Common People” … things Lily has an opinion on (good) but no real understanding of (bad).
It’s a bit like me and born-again Christians; they make me uncomfortable, but it’s because of my own prejudice and lack of understanding and it’s through no real fault of the Christians. I’m not about to go roaring at the top of my lungs about them, in other words, because I’d come across as an awful plonker; my comfy prejudices would deflate like a Penney’s gel bra, and I’d actually have to go substantiating things. I’d rather sit here and frown about The Rapture in the privacy of my own addled little head …
As Ms. Lily should have done. But didn’t. She barked without having any back-up bite, and when she was ridiculed, she sulked and said she was quitting music because she’s not being paid enough to sing her over-produced, beige rubbish anymore. She was only paid €50,000 for her first album, you know. On top of all the freebies and the massively subsidised social life and the teeth-whitening and the coke n’ beer money, like. Poor fucking lamb.
I have an opinion myself on file-sharing, and it’s a cautious one. I can see how it would annoy artists who have back-up dancers to pay, but on the other hand, if I stuck to hearing only what I’m fed by MTV, or NME, or 2fm, I’d have missed out on a huge amount of excellent bands, especially local bands. But that’s a whole other post, and one I’ve posted not so long ago, so I’ll shut up now.
And I hope Lily Allen does the same, because I’m so fed up of her. I don’t expect her to have mercy on a blogger whose existence she is blissfully unaware of, mind you, but it would rock just to … well, ram her underneath one. I can’t stand celebrities whinging about how hard their lives are, especially when we see non-stop pictures of them utterly langers, flashing out of their fucking Prada dresses. It just gets my goat, shaves its horns off, and holds its kids hostage. But I’m probably worse to write about it, really, feeding the perpetual motion machine, laying more steaming tarmac for the juggernaut to crush…
I’d think about it with proper care and attention if I wasn’t so tired.
And I’d really pick up if Lily Allen just fucking WENT AWAY.
You’re wrong on this one, love. Easy target. Hate away. I’m not joining in.
Being a bloody Yank, and one that doesn’t listen to anything other than kid’s shows, I had only heard of her very recently. But she has already reached the stage of boring the tits right off me, and I’m a GG cup.
Besides which, she has a face for radio and if she’s going to go about in public, she should put a bag over her head. In fact, she’s pretty much a double bagger, isn’t she?
I agree with the “I’ve had a hard upbringing, me” stuff.. her father is world(ish) famous, how much of a tough life could she have had? I’m sure she wanted to make a stab of it on her own without daddy’s help, but as with all these people (not just Ms. Allen) there will always be the get out call that’s possible to make if things get too bad. THAT sort of stuff winds me up too. As for her Ms. Allen herself? I could take her or leave her… she’s too inoffensive & unimportant to bother me. It’s like a fly banging against the window… yeah, it’s bugging you a little, but not enough to put down your whiskey and get off your @rse to get rid of it.
My first thought on hearing Lily’s current whine was,
‘As if. As if I’d ever pay for, fileshare or listen to any of your puerile dross, you bint.’
Kevin, if you’re not joining in, you shouldn’t join in.
How can I be “wrong” about claiming to be fed up of Lily Allen? I AM fed up of her. For the reasons that she’s boring, whining, stupid, and so choked with a sense of entitlement it’s a wonder she’s still alive.
There are legitimate questions in there, you know. Like, why is file-sharing wrong when taking cocaine’s ok?
I just can’t stand privilidged bints who pick and choose their convictions without due thought, broadcast them to the world, and refuse to engage in debate when challenged.
I guess that makes her an easy target. I guess she’s made herself an easy target. Boo fucking hoo.
Sparrow, it’s not so much a double bag I’m after, rather than an industrial-strength gag. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with people in the public eye having opinions, whether they go against the grain or conform to public opinion, so long as they’ve had a little think about it first.
Even so, I’d say at this stage I’m so knackered by Ms. Lily’s antics, I wouldn’t give a crap how much thought she’s put into it. I’d say she should go back to pushing other singers off stage and getting stout poured over her head, but while that’s considerably more amusing, I still break out in Teh Yawnz over it.
Simon, she did have Daddy’s help. And there’s not a whole lot wrong with that … first off, I’d imagine it fairly impossible to make it on your own if you have a famous dad, connected mum and assorted renowned godparent-types, even if you wanted to. Secondly, who can blame you if you use every influence you have to break into the “industry”, and that’s what it is, a great big fecker of an industry.
Just don’t let on that you’ve crawled your way up from the mean streets when you haven’t. It’s fucking annoying.
Nelly, I can proudly state that I have never, ever stolen from Ms. Lily. I have never put her on a mix for a friend or promoted her on a message board or on my LastFM profile. She gets all the airplay she needs, I figure.
All of this seems to stem from the fact that Ms. Lily is not as rich as she thinks she should be. If every song was legally listened-to, we wouldn’t be listening to very much. I figure it’s a necessary evil. There’s no denying I hear a lot of choons illegally first time round, but I also pay for them if I like them, because I like to support the band. I’ll make the effort to see them live. I try and get my buds into ‘em. I subscribe to online stations like LastFM. Artists and record labels need to move with the times and figure out new ways of making revenue, because no matter the penalty, file-sharing is too far gone to ever stop now. Like tapin’ off the radio.
Jesus Christ, I wouldn’t have to be rich. If I could just manage to survive, having no other job but the one I was born to do, I wouldn’t be fucking complaining. Even Terry Pratchett was only writing after his day job until quite a few Discworld novels in.
Then again, I’m biased. As a writer I’m resigned to the fact I’ll never make a penny out of this and even if I do get published, those blasted libraries take our tomes and lend them out to the great unwashed FOR NOTHING! It’s a disgrace!
I think she’s a great breath of air. Her songs are clever and I like her moxie, now fuck off.
*fresh air
Yes. Air. Tis a pity all the air is coming out, as opposed to going in, like.
And what would you have left if she fecked off, the spawn of geldolf, or worse the family that could not train the dogs to shit outside and the doughy kids.
I’m with Kevin, it really could be worse.
She’s too mouthy for my liking. Always slagging other artists off for vague reasons, like a mixture of Liam Gallagher and Dido.
I do like you, Sweary, you ol’ goat. I just get a kick out of Lily Allen.
I was going say nothing cause your anger was palpable and I was scared .
But, she’s a spoilt cunt. The media panders to her whims and wants. She’s on T4 every time I look .
She has nothing to say , no life experiences and is vacuous.
But, but, she has a voice and her lyric is clever if a little man-misogynistic.
I still would though…
sweary i couldnt agree more, she’s a knob end of the warm for too long crusty cheese variety-she’s a never ending bag of self involved whinge and her lyrics are mostly patronising…i can’t even construct a sentence properly for the amount of bile i want to spew about that fringed turd…i gave up on her altogether when she bitched that she had to wait for her louboutins to be shipped from france, boo fuckin hoo indeed
Do you know the Monaghan connection? Stately home type thing.
If she’s a nothing, and I don’t agree that she is, why such an incredibly long repetitive boring rant against her? She’s just a popster, she’ll be gone tomorrow. An amazing amount of bile and misdirected malicious energy for absolutely fuck all. Take a look in the mirror and try to get over yourself before it’s too late.
You don’t really “get” comedy blogs, do you, mate?
try writing one and i’ll get back to you.
Yes. The constituency of Troll Mountain has never been particularly kind to me.
Moi a troll? Hardly, I don’t think! I’ve just never been a fan of the great Irish sport of shooting fish in a barrel.
Ooh, racism!
My go. Hardly, you don’t think? Meaning either you hardly think that you are a troll, or you hardly believe that you don’t think you are a troll, one of which would translate as “hardly; I don’t think I am a troll!”, or maybe more appropriately, “Hardly. I don’t think I am a troll.” or perhaps even “Hardly = I don’t think.” Coz I don’t know if you think or don’t think anymore. WHERE DID IT ALL GO WRONG?!
But don’t let that deter you; I’m getting quite turned on.
Racism? Hardly, I would’nt think, since I am of the race to which that slur is directed, or do I mean that I am innocent by virtue of being, by default, as it were, disqualified from the charge by being in fact a charter member myself. Anyway, stop getting turned on because the very idea that a woman, of whatever persuasion, is getting turned on anywhere is bound to cause me to experience a lapse of judgement sometime in the next eight hours.
Verily, the eight hours have passed. After a cold shower and a nice fried breakfast, I think my temperature has receded somewhat, to wit, you are out of the danger zone, just like yer man out of Top Gun, forsooth, what a palaver, and all that jazz.
Er … what was the original argument again?
Beats me or at least it did last night, oh the shame.
Shame indeed. What would the nuns say? Don’t you watch Family Guy?