Fifteen minutes till the fame game ends

2013 has seen the official birth of the media hate figure, and like selfies and the norovirus (the former abundant in egotism, the latter infested with germs), they are absolutely everywhere.

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Don’t listen to NME, Tom.

Today I was a bit down in the dumps.

This wasn’t for any particular reason – nothing tragic has happened – but I just really needed cheering up. Those who know me tend to recognise me as the ‘mad happy, smiley person’, but today I was not really feeling my usual smiley self. I needed someone or something to make this mad smile come back.

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The Great Gatsby film review

I’ve never written a film review before, which you will probably realise once you’ve finished reading today’s post. The closest I’ve got to writing anything remotely similar is a book report at school – the classic summer holiday homework which is forced upon primary school children and met with the same overwhelming hatred as eating vegetables and enduring Sunday night bath time before school the next day.

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