OK so you don't like Big Brother which is about real people and how they really behave, but you do like reading books about imaginary people and all the imaginary stuff that happens to them. I don't get that. So and so famous author really manages to give you the feeling of the character in his novel, and isn't it marvellous how he captures the atmosphere of the time, so he's really great and you all get really excited about it. But when you can actually watch the real unimagined true character of a real human being who actually exists and is not just in someones imagination then you're not impressed. It's a bit like going all swoony over a painting of a sunset when you can step out of your house and watch one for real.
I just get really pissed off with all the pseudo intellectual snobbery that surrounds reality TV. You know what I think it is in the end - it's because you can't sit around at your dinner parties and score points by discussing the finer points of how jolly clever some pretentious writer is blah blah blah. Sorry guys but real people interest me and figments of other peoples imagination don't. And I fucking hate books anyway.
And what about the new housemates who arrived last night - the scottish tranny and the blonde eye candy from London. Yes!
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