Fabulous

I like to consider myself an equal opportunities hater. The first thing I ask myself about any new government policy, bonehead publicity stunt, or Kate Bush record is "Do I hate this?" The answer is usually in the affirmative.

There are, however, three things that I hate above all (aside from, of course, this sort of bullshit right here) and they are all linked together like a circle jerk where everyone is ejaculating hot sticky plumes of fucking cold hard cash. In no particular order, then:

1. The fashion industry
2. Cosmetic surgery
3. Advertising

As far as advertising goes, I second what Bill Hicks said. And there's a London Underground poster for a cosmetic surgery clinic that sums up everything I hate about that shit: two identical, pneumatically-breasted brunettes, checking eachother out approvingly post-slice'n'dice, the message being "Hey you! Yeah, you! Fatty with the harelip and the crooked sneb, yeah, that's right! Now even you can look EXACTLY THE MOTHERFUCKING SAME as absolutely everybody else!" Honestly, it's fucking terrifying.

And as for fashion, just waft your weary eyes over this chilling shit. Unbelievably, it's written as a humour piece, but it is actually a fucking balls-achingly creepy tale of Dawn Of The Dead-style mindless automatons, "eyes glazed, jaws locked", written in that grotesquely self-important hyperbole that's so common in the industry. Hesitation, we are told, is "fatal". The protagonists are "steely, informed shoppers, who knew their quarry well" and ... oh, the whole thing just makes me want to shit broken glass.

I think the reason I can't quite put my finger on what exactly it is I hate about the whole pointless, vapid and self-congratulatory business is because I despise every single little thing about it. I hate the fucking pop-stars that go to the fashion shows and act like they are anything more significant than an exclusive club where the poor people aren't. I hate the constant declarations of such-and-such a smug superfluous scumbag as "genius" and "visionary". I hate that it is staffed by the idle rich sons and daughters of musicians and hotel magnates foisting their self-indulgent little hobby on the rest of us like it's anything but a giant waste of time and resources - like it's something important, something groundbreaking - and I hate they way we swallow that steaming arse-swill so readily, too.

So fuck J-Lo. Fuck Gwen. Fuck Tom Ford. Fuck this fucking asshole. Fuck the lot of them, and fuck us, too. Fucking cunts.

Matter of fact, the only thing I like about the entire fashion industry is Gianni Versace getting shot in the scone, but that was far too long ago. Might I suggest that when the US next fancy testing out their next lot of nasty, disfiguring weapons they give the women and children of Falluja a break for a minute and just wait for the next pampered pop starlet to open up shop in a Covent Garden store? A couple of blasts of that white phosphorous shit oughta do the trick.

Cheers, darlings.