I was called up by a TV station to comment on the fall out between Hollie Willoughby and Phillip Schofield.
The following day I was called up to comment on the ever deepening rift between the two presenters.
The following day, whilst talking to the local doctor, outside ‘Specs Savers’, about the ‘oosbinds’ treatment, the telephone rung.
‘Look’ I said. ‘I have no interest in the ongoing saga of Hilly Wallaby and Solly Plawfield.’
I explained that even though the money would be handy, given the state of our finances, talking on National television about what went on behind ‘This Mornings’ sofa was not a priority.
And then…..Everybody was talking about lying, loyalty and libidinous behaviour behind the bike sheds. Who knew it was gong to turn into the blockbuster it has become. Then Kim
Patricia Mary “Kim” Woodburn (née McKenzie; born 25 March 1942) the television personality, writer, and former cleaner got cleaned up to appear on the settee to slander Phil then she relaquered her talons so she could claw away at Holly.
Vicious, nasty bad-mouthing, hurtful gossip, that is of no use to anybody. Does Kim have such a sparkling glass house that she can afford to throw stones? Or is she as grubby as the rest of us.
So, just why is Mr.Schofield being pilloried to death? What has the hapless presenter done that the world and her husband have turned against him. Dear Philip, he of the multi coloured bank account. Is it his proclivity for young men or have the media found a wonderful distraction to satisfy our salacious appetites. Whilst Boris is shitting himself as the latest revelations will reveal he’s even more duplicitous than we thought, whilst the father of eight – nine or even ten, bumbles his way into the history books, whilst the slimy Sunak carries on ignoring the breaking down of our society, whilst somnambulant Brexiteers are having second thoughts, the likes of Nigel, Reece, and Noreen carry on dismantling the welfare state. Whilst hospitals buckle under the pressure of staff shortages. Whilst, rather than mending the system, indeed changing the rotten system, migrants and asylum seekers are being blamed for our underfunded, underwhelming Tory led country. Whilst potholes turn into sink holes, whilst our seas turn into cesspits, whilst our schools run out of books and our trains run off the rails. Whilst society, as we know it, is fraying at the edges, our terrified newspapers choose to opt for the dismembering of a children’s television presenter who has toppled a brand.
I don’t care what he did or what he said. I don’t care that Willy Horribly was hurt because he kept his private life to himself. I just don’t care. I do care that we are being taken for Patsies and being manipulated into being bothered about two highly paid individuals who have been chosen as sacrificial lambs. I care that every single newspaper is paying homage to tittle tattle. I care that intelligent human beings are swimming in the shady sewage of character assignation.
I could have taken the money and slagged off Philip. I could have sucked the dick of television celebs to earn a few bob. But seriously I have enough difficulty sleeping at night without having to avoid the unholy shit that is flying off the fan.
I interviewed Joseph Schofield when he was doing his turn at the Palladium, and he wasn’t that polite. But then I’ve also interviewed Boris, and Stephen fry. I’ve interviewed Ruby Wax and Nigel Farage. I interviewed hundreds of A-Z celebrities and lots of them were total wankers, but skinning them alive is a disgusting blood sport of which I do not partake in. At least Dermot O’Leary refused to comment.
I wish that the dismantlers of Philip receive the very treatment they are metering out on him. They should only know the loneliness and shame that he is going through. The loss of a lifetime of work, the emptiness of a friendless future. The back stabbing in an industry that should be bringing us the truth instead of flaying people alive.
Maybe I should have taken that job and said all this on air, but to be honest it would be casting pearls before swine. They’re waiting for the next turd to polish.
Remember hubris? Kim and her band of surly cleaners had better watch out for, to be sure, if she ain’t careful then she could be next.