How To Be A Complete and Utter Blunt: Diary of a Reluctant Social Media Sensation
I don’t know who first alerted me but I probably had the same reaction as many: James Blunt IS FUNNY! He was savage even. Just the right type of wit. It was wonderful to read his comebacks and shit-talks on Twitter. He got the medium. He had a self-awareness around how he was perceived – he also had money in the bank and that was always a good final comment to make. Crying on his giant gold pillow, wiping away the tears with big bills, fucking your partner with his big fame-cock. It was brilliant and funny to read because it was clever. And more importantly…because his music IS utter shit. Horrible, ghastly, whining, calculated pansy-weak music for the dumb-af masses. They massed up and masturbated all over it and to it and because of it and it was horrible. Nearly as horrible as that sentence.
Well, anyway, James Blunt on Twitter is fucking funny. He owned the shit out of so many people. He made nice calls too – some biting social commentary, a bit of strong social justice. He got the medium so good and got to so many people through the medium.
Now you can read those tweets again (or for the first time) in a book. Books of tweets are lazy. But that’s fine. Twitter is a fucking horrid shit-show of a medium and deserves to be strip-mined and profited from. So I applaud Blunt for that too.
I once read a book about James Blunt and consider it one of the worst things I’ve ever done. So I was all the more faux-raged, totally engaged and laughing like a fucking hyena (I don’t know if they laugh while they fuck, but anyway…) to read these tweets again, in book form. Because I should hate everything about James Blunt. But I love everything about savage comebacks and razor-sharp wit. And he just owned everyone on the feed. And always. He was like a prizefighter, it was like watching that old video tape of Mike Tyson’s “Greatest Hits”. Beastmode activated and killing it with fire spat straight from the same poncey gob that dribbles out those shit-cunt songs. You’ve gotta love that if just for irony. Right?
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