A tribute to tabloid warriors: our big brothers

Dear followers, sycophantic-suck-ups, and good-for-nothing-insects: I'm back. Worry not. Your god is here to rescue you from your daily drudgery.

You can stop worrying about your money, your career, your education, your kids, your partner, your mortgage, your lack of mortgage, your parents, your health, your fitness, your sex life or the lack of it, your mind, your holidays, or your lack of worries!

I will take care of your worries. I'll show a happier life and the secret to a truly worryless life. I'm your Big Brother: the one to rescue you from yourself. And I'll use my magical potion to save your lives. I made this magic after years of watching you, learning from your mistakes, and experimenting with other less potent medicines.

The magical potion will not take away your porblems. Instead it will take you away from your problems. And take you away to my land. And my worries. You can now watch me wake up, watch me sleep, see how I fuck, see who I fuck, see what's eating me, what I am eating.

Not enough? You can watch me cry, watch me laugh, and watch me puff, watch me bitch, watch me eat.

Still not away from your worries? Here's a suggestion- why don't you cry with me, laugh with me, pass judgements on my behaviour, and ogle at my legs. Perhaps I'll have to give up some things. For a little money, a bit of fame. And to make you happy.
Love,