This morning, I woke up, and thought of Mark Beaumont...
Mark Beaumont, who,
unbeknownst to himself, as Britney Spears would say, was closer to the Truth than any other Morrissey-obsessed male journalist, and...completely passed it by.
I salute you, Mark Beaumont, not only because my jokes and innuendos probably completely went over your head, but also because you didn't mention my name, saving me the exciting embarrassment of being sued by Mariah Carey.
I salute the way you over-simplified everything to achieve probably the finest example of lazy journalism ever.
I salute the way you bravely misquoted anonymous people to make them pass for a daft obsessive virtual crowd, when in reality you'd run away if some of you said "me, you, outside! I.Q test".
I salute you because you managed to find employment at the Guardian, when I wouldn't have paid you a penny for all that hard work.
Finally, I salute you because you gave me a unique insight of what it's like having to deal with a journalist.
Now I understand where Morrissey's superiority complex comes from.
The simple, childish joy of feeling you know something the person who claims to know you will never find out, that he must have often experienced when talking to your dumb colleagues, could easily go to your head.
It's not much, but at times in life when you have nothing to keep you entertained, it does make you chuckle.
As you didn't crack the "code", I'll kindly conclude with this South- Korean proverb:
"Behind every famous pig with lipstick on, there's a pitbull."
(No, didn't think you would get that one either, otherwise I wouldn't have said it.)
Thanks for making me laugh, Mark.
You have yourself a good week-end now.
Mwah!