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Thursday, 19 January 2012

Falling Stars
Inside Glitter's mind.
Look, just tell me that's not Gary Glitter who's, er, popped up on Twitter will you? Either him, or some nutbag fake him, has started a Twitter account announcing a comeback tour, autobiography and various other activities for covering up kiddie fiddling. 
Fuck me, though (and I can say that because I'm way too old for Glitter), if it's his followers who are giving me the shits this time around. Have you seen their comments? Have you? Well go and have a look, come back here and try to do it without taking a scouring pad to your eyeballs. 
"Gary, you are the best! Welcome back!" blathers one twatter. "I hope everyone can get over that unpleasantness now, Gary!" moons another. Oh, and how about this gem of "Gary is too precious for us to be without him!" Oh fuckety, fuckety fuck. Are these scrotes for real? I refuse to believe that Glitter has followers at all, let alone people who would publicly offer him their devotion. 
I dunno, perhaps they're all tweeting from a home for terminal amnesiacs or perhaps the GG fan club is offering free lobotomies with every concert ticket. Can you even start to imagine what a stadium full of these fans would look like? Dante's Inferno comes to mind but that didn't have nearly enough circles of hell. Nine don't even scratch the surface. Glitter's minions would pitch it well into double figures.
Oh, and I love the request that we all allow Glitter to put his fetid past behind him, a past that's so recent it's almost yesterday. His last conviction for pawing at minors was in 2006, for fuck's sake. Anyway, I bet his victims would equally love the chance to put the past behind them but crucifying flashbacks of Glitter looming over them have probably put paid to that. 
All of which his loyal fans seem too gullible to remember. What pitiful creatures they are.
Still, at least they can be guaranteed prime seats at GG's comeback tour (a worrying title for a tour where GG is involved, according to Conjugal Kraken). I'm not sensing a sell-out here. And if I were Glitter I'd hold on the t-shirt printing too. I reckon he's got enough front to go around the entire bloody nation.
Spare me, Glitter, spare me. And something tells me that it's not the first time you've heard that request either.



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