Copycats and Cheats!

Browsing (I mean nosing) on Fakebook the other day and doing some investigative research on my old foes, I noticed some complete tool who I worked with once upon a time has tried to rip off my good name. Now, I hate cheats in any form, whether they are benefit cheats, nicking someone's writing ideas or even those cunts who bring their smartphone into a pub quiz. However, this person knows he won't be able to foil Flight Deck Floozie as I have some information on him which I'm sure his present employer wouldn't look too fondly on. It might be an interesting story in this blog though, as this monstrosity of a human being hasn't just screwed some of his fellow gay cabin crew, but has screwed an organisation out of a large sum of money through his lies! Ladies and gentlemen, if you ever come across a deeply unfunny Twitter account that makes Pam Ann look original and a bad cut-and-paste job of a blog, you know who I mean. Don't waste your bandwidth.

While I'm on the subject of poor, unimaginative writing, let me rant on about 50 Shades of Grey. This author has flogged a dead horse (no S&M pun intended) and the book has only shot to fame because she has contacts in the media. Erotica has been around for years in some form or other, and her book sounds shite. It makes me laugh when people have forked out £7 for this when publishing house Black Lace have been doing this stuff for years for about £2 a pop. Even Z-lister Abi Titmuss turned her hand (sorry!) to erotica in 2006 when she released the steamy 10 Fantasies and former airline pilot Robin Peacock is also drawing on his experiences in the rude world of aviation to pen steamy smut. It's a load of hype that we all know is going to be in the charity shop in 6 months time and even Oxfam will get sick of asking for donations of it! The whole synopsis of 50 Shades sounds boring anyway. Virgin gets seduced by someone only 6 yrs older than herself? That's not seduction. Seduction is when a stewardess, dissatisfied by her current lover, gets ravished by a 40 something silver-haired captain in the Holidsy Inn Express at Stansted Airport. In the throes of passion, he takes off up her runway, admiring her landing strip and tells her 'I'll make you earn your stripes'. The story 'climaxes' humorously when he arrives for duty the following day and the crew complain about a snail trail on the braided cuff of his uniform.

Try and plagiarise THAT, Mr Copycat!