Evening All,
Following our last catch-up last week, I eventually heard back on the contractual changes being put in place in order to action Furlough amongst employees. Thankfully I am not one of them and continue to serve both my country and my company for another few weeks at least. I am continuing to work in whatever capacity that I can but for the most part, this is doing my normal job, full time and fully paid! As long as I am doing something, my bit if you will, then I am happy. And as I said, with no kids, childcare issues at nil, twenty-minutes drive from the office and having never taken ill since working for the company I would like to hope that this will continue for as long as it can, and fingers crossed that is soon so we can all go back to normal.
So as I now welcome in week number two as officially working from home and Day 19 in self-isolation (not by my choice I might add) I am starting to get into a bit more of a swing of it. Admittedly it is still weird and strange, working from home with my little desk set up with Mr Warehouse's gamer headset and a picture of the dogs in the corner. Odd to think that this is my new norm. Only a few weeks ago, life was normal. I was eating out and cocktails at restaurants with Miss Hackney and Miss SugarCoat, Cups of coffee and Cinema trips with Miss Tweedle-Dee - All just a distant memory. I never thought that life would be as different now.
As a nation, we are still awaiting another chat with our dear Boris (Johnson, our Prime Minister, and a secret hunk of mine) although after coming down with the dreaded COVID-19 Coronavirus and being sent to ICU at London's St Thomas Hospital, I doubt that it will come very soon. That being said we, as the British Nation tuned in yesterday to listen to Liz (Queen Elizabeth II) talk us through what she described as a different challenge to those we have faced before. The BBC broadcast went on with the Queen who is now ninety-three bless her said the "painful sense of separation from their loved ones" that social distancing was causing for people reminded her of the experience child evacuees had during the Second World War.
Although the last week had got me thinking outside the box?! What happens if this was created? Manufactured? Constructed by a sick individual in order to gain financially or get their rocks off on the hundreds of thousands, if not millions by the time this goes out dying. Or worse - What if it is multiple people? An organisation? Illuminati maybe? No?!
A website called Wired.co.uk dived deep into the speculation that seems to be hitting social media around the links between 5G and the deadly COVID-19 Coronavirus. From an interview with an obscure Belgian doctor to apparent arson attacks in the UK, the conspiracy theory that 5G is somehow linked to the coronavirus pandemic has spread unlike any other and gained a huge following by celebrities alike including Dancing On Ice judge Jason Gardiner, Actor Woody Harrelson and Boxer Amir Khan. Even TV Darling Amanda Holden tweeted it before revoking it saying she "didn't know what it was about".
Now I know what you are thinking - What? Phone signals and 5G and Coronavirus flu? That is the most ludicrous link anyone can ever make, especially for someone such as myself who loves a Shane Dawson Conspiracy Series on YouTube! But hear me out as the more I read into it the more it seems plausible. It started with a Belgian newspaper (Het Laatste Nieuws) who published an interview they had done with Kris Van Kerckhoven, a GP doctor from a small town near Antwerp on 22nd January this year.
Headlined with "5G is life-threatening, and no one knows it” which has now since been deleted from its website caused waves that have burned through social media and the internet. But it has not just remained online, oh no as the wild conspiracy theory has now broken out into the real world because not only did this Belgian Academic claim that 5G was dangerous, he also said it might be linked to coronavirus which was soon to sweep the planet. Obviously, at the time of publication, the outbreak was barely making international news. It wasn't relevant in the western world. So far the Virus had claimed just nine lives and infected 440 people with almost all of them in the Chinese city of Wuhan. The Belgian news article went on to state that since 2019, numerous 5G cell towers had been erected in and around Wuhan.
Now Dr. Van Kerckhoven did caveat the statement with the notion that he had not checked all of his facts and that it should not be taken as gospel, however he had suggested the link and therefore the touchpaper was set on fire. Quickly picked up by anti-5G campaigners, Facebook and many other outlets linked to and quoted from the article. And so the snowballing and (forgive the pun) Chinese whispers started. Claims were made that this was proof of something very dark indeed happening with the rollout of 5G, an upgrade in mobile technology superseding its predecesors (3G and 4G), enabling faster browsing and allowing us to do things like watching videos, stream music or scroll through timelines, all whilst on the move. But this idea that Dr. Van Kerckhoven was peddling wasn’t new. In fact, it has been bubbling away quietly for a few decades. Someone's old chip shop paper you may say, especially when compared to the unfounded concerns about high-voltage power lines in the 1980s, mobile phones in the 1990s and that dreaded millennium bug that was going to end the world.
Het Laatste Nieuws editor Dimitri Antonissen soon took down the article from publication and the website stating that “the quotes were unfounded and we regret the fact that the story was online for a few hours”. But it was far too late, the cat was well and truly out of the bag and running for the fucking hills. So? Does 5G worsen the effects of the COVID-19 coronavirus by weakening your immune system? Is it true that 5G outright causes coronavirus-like symptoms? Is the coronavirus lockdown is being used as cover-up to install 5G networks that can tap into and listen to everything? Is that Bill Gates bloke in on it all? Or is it that this is all an Illuminati mass-murder plot to kill off the weak and vulnerable so as to control populations and ergo ease in the idea or a new world order?
Who Knows. Truth be told no one does, and honestly, most of it sounds like utter shite. But, just maybe, if someone wanted to create something so devastating, so awful - They probably could. And if they wanted to unleash a deadly virus on the world, what better time to do it?! Starting it off in China, one of the world most controlled populations, bursting at the seams with people, all ready to go home to their families for Chinese New Year. With no sea to cross and not much-limited travelling, it wouldn't take much for the infected to start travelling to other parts of the world. Where is easiest to get to without boat or plane from China - Europe. And in Europe right now we are in Winter, admittedly coming into spring but most people around this time will have sore throats or coughs. A normal cold you might think on any other year but this. Just a thought. Just an idea. Just a theory. But nevertheless, a theory that has infiltrated every level and type of celebrity culture and could be used as a clever cloak for the dagger that the governments of the world hold?!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Fake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fake. Show all posts
Monday, 6 April 2020
Monday, 26 October 2015
The Deep Joys Of Dreamboys!
Morning One and all,
Racing out of work I had battled the Friday afternoon traffic, picked up milk and bread and even posted a couple of items before heading back home to an eager Mr. Warehouse. But oh no, it wasn't him I was buzzing round like a headless fly for, no, no. My best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb were coming over. Not only that but we were heading out. Although much to my dismay not for a messy night out on the tiles. Nope, tonight was the last little dribble of my birthday surprises ... Tickets to see Dreamboys Live! Now if you don't know what or who Dreamboys are I urge you to head and check them out as I am terrible at explaining what theyre job description is. I tried to explain to my dear Nanna the other day that I was going to the theatre and after asking what acclaimed performance I was planning to watch I had to explain to her that these men barely kept any clothes on let alone bagged a Tony award. The same went for the poor shopkeeper on the way back to my flat after the show when he asked what our plans were we sheepishly answered that we had been in the company of the Dreamboys that evening and then ensued a conversation and explanation as to what the Dreamboys were. I think by the end of the whole Charade that people just asked us so we would squirm and wonder what we should tell them we had been up to that evening.
Nevertheless it was a wonderful evening beginning with the staple trip to the local Spoons (AKA Wetherspoons Pub) for a few bevvies and some dinner before the real show. Heading out into the cold Autumn air I pulled my coat around me, thankful that I wasn't spending a lonely night in with Jonathan Ross or Graham Norton on a Friday Night. But as we arrived closer to the venue I suddenly didn't look so out of place, dressed up in my heels and nude dress whilst my friends donned a more casual wear of Converse and Jeans which far more comfortable than what some of the other audience members were wearing. Finishing our cigarettes we sneaked in and found our seats. The venue, Bedford Corn Exchange, whilst being in the town centre was surprisingly comfortable to hold a show of this calibre and size I thought. Whilst not the biggest show on earth, the hall was packed out and as this was my first time visiting since being a very small child with my father accompanying him to a military 'do', I found the place beautiful and made me want to explore its beauty even more after the chairs, bleachers and stage were all gone.
Awaiting the men on stage I took a look at the level of attractiveness this room possessed against myself. There were girls, mostly young, but a few not so, but almost all of them that were young and I suppose in a sense sharing the same age category of myself being late-teens and early twenties (Shhh, I can still try to get away with it!) all skinny size 10's with long hair, manicured nails and cracking dress sense. But it made me wonder how many of them actually had a man at home like I did. Sure they may be young and pretty, but they can't be the actual face of Rimmel all the time and at some point those fake eyelashes and biscuit tan have to come off. Would a guy still fancy them if they were dressed a little more normal in a pub? Maybe? (I know that in my defence when on a night out men feel or at least I feel that they are less threatened by me as I am probably more normal looking and closer to the-morning-after-result that Little Miss Twinkle-Tits over there swigging her sixth Smirnoff Ice) Would a Dreamboy give them a second look? And there you have it. The crux of the issue is that most girls think that to be with a Ken you need to be a Barbie and I suppose yes, but for how long before a Cindy or a Shelly comes into the picture. This got me thinking and yes, whilst I was about to watch an mirage of godly men on the stage in front of my very eyes, like porn, Santa and those Nigerian-Uncle emails they were all fake.
Real men aren't like that. Real men are hairy and burp and fart ... And then laugh about it. Real men buy their girlfriends Haribo when they least expect it just because 'they were in the shop and knew that you liked them'. Real men can cry at Disney films and have absolutely no qualms attempting to squeeze into a Little Red Riding Hood Costume for Halloween. I love real men.
As the lights went down and the show began I looked to my two best friends and asked what we were all about to encounter. Curtains opened and screams filled the room as the act began to swish and turn in provocative move that would make even the Vicar blush. But as I hooted, whistled and screeched at all the scantily clad men on stage during their 'performances' I couldn't help but wonder what we were all doing here. Why had every person in that room purchased a ticket and why was the general population of those tickets bought by women? Well who else other than a few errant gay guys would want to see naked men on a pedestal of sorts, flashing their genitalia and creaming themselves up for another lucky lady, or man in some instances. I pondered across the ideas that whilst the media slams men for gawking at Page 3 (which is now sadly no longer with us due to a boring-arse feminist campaign to ban it) and now women are shunning men even holding doors open for them or having a friendly wolf-whistle in the street, it is somehow widely accepted that women are allowed freely and with little or no confrontation to go about acting the same way towards men straight out of a Diet Coke Advert.
Now I am not trying to get everyone's back up but this seriously crossed my mind as I enjoyed the show on Friday night which believe you me, I enjoyed one hell of a lot. So much so I am thinking about going next year. But I just couldn't shake the fact that if the roles were reversed and it was hordes of men sat here with Victoria Secret-esk models on stage would it still have the lack of Media attention?! The truth is no. Why? I don't know. But what I do know is that if you are prepared to have the conversation about media portraying women in such a sexualised and revealing way then you must be prepared to say the same for the way that women can be just as animalistic and hungry when on the hunt for a man dressed and painted in the same seedy, sexual light as Page 3.
Honestly, I don't see the problem with it. I thoroughly enjoyed the show and all that were involved with it but that was just it. It was a show. Something make-believe and pretend. The normal likes of me and you would probably never end up with a man like one of those oiled up for all female eyes to see. And besides would you really want to when you can see, barely when stripped to the nude, just how much athletics and hard work goes into a man of that build. The same with the women in the audience, crying out to be next in line for a dance. They make such an effort staying slim, constantly re-applying make-up and even considering going under the knife all for the title of Beautiful. I suppose if that night taught me anything at all (apart from some cracking sexy dance moves) that we all have our own body insecurities, both Men and Women - All of us seen in the media as unrealistic, airbrushed, new and improved versions of ourselves. Yes. We all want to be beautiful and gorgeous, but it is about perspective and learning who you are and loving who you are, inside and out. Because whilst I enjoyed the show in all its glory and splendour, I knew that I was going home that night to my very manly, very real Dreamboy.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Racing out of work I had battled the Friday afternoon traffic, picked up milk and bread and even posted a couple of items before heading back home to an eager Mr. Warehouse. But oh no, it wasn't him I was buzzing round like a headless fly for, no, no. My best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb were coming over. Not only that but we were heading out. Although much to my dismay not for a messy night out on the tiles. Nope, tonight was the last little dribble of my birthday surprises ... Tickets to see Dreamboys Live! Now if you don't know what or who Dreamboys are I urge you to head and check them out as I am terrible at explaining what theyre job description is. I tried to explain to my dear Nanna the other day that I was going to the theatre and after asking what acclaimed performance I was planning to watch I had to explain to her that these men barely kept any clothes on let alone bagged a Tony award. The same went for the poor shopkeeper on the way back to my flat after the show when he asked what our plans were we sheepishly answered that we had been in the company of the Dreamboys that evening and then ensued a conversation and explanation as to what the Dreamboys were. I think by the end of the whole Charade that people just asked us so we would squirm and wonder what we should tell them we had been up to that evening.
Nevertheless it was a wonderful evening beginning with the staple trip to the local Spoons (AKA Wetherspoons Pub) for a few bevvies and some dinner before the real show. Heading out into the cold Autumn air I pulled my coat around me, thankful that I wasn't spending a lonely night in with Jonathan Ross or Graham Norton on a Friday Night. But as we arrived closer to the venue I suddenly didn't look so out of place, dressed up in my heels and nude dress whilst my friends donned a more casual wear of Converse and Jeans which far more comfortable than what some of the other audience members were wearing. Finishing our cigarettes we sneaked in and found our seats. The venue, Bedford Corn Exchange, whilst being in the town centre was surprisingly comfortable to hold a show of this calibre and size I thought. Whilst not the biggest show on earth, the hall was packed out and as this was my first time visiting since being a very small child with my father accompanying him to a military 'do', I found the place beautiful and made me want to explore its beauty even more after the chairs, bleachers and stage were all gone.
Awaiting the men on stage I took a look at the level of attractiveness this room possessed against myself. There were girls, mostly young, but a few not so, but almost all of them that were young and I suppose in a sense sharing the same age category of myself being late-teens and early twenties (Shhh, I can still try to get away with it!) all skinny size 10's with long hair, manicured nails and cracking dress sense. But it made me wonder how many of them actually had a man at home like I did. Sure they may be young and pretty, but they can't be the actual face of Rimmel all the time and at some point those fake eyelashes and biscuit tan have to come off. Would a guy still fancy them if they were dressed a little more normal in a pub? Maybe? (I know that in my defence when on a night out men feel or at least I feel that they are less threatened by me as I am probably more normal looking and closer to the-morning-after-result that Little Miss Twinkle-Tits over there swigging her sixth Smirnoff Ice) Would a Dreamboy give them a second look? And there you have it. The crux of the issue is that most girls think that to be with a Ken you need to be a Barbie and I suppose yes, but for how long before a Cindy or a Shelly comes into the picture. This got me thinking and yes, whilst I was about to watch an mirage of godly men on the stage in front of my very eyes, like porn, Santa and those Nigerian-Uncle emails they were all fake.
Real men aren't like that. Real men are hairy and burp and fart ... And then laugh about it. Real men buy their girlfriends Haribo when they least expect it just because 'they were in the shop and knew that you liked them'. Real men can cry at Disney films and have absolutely no qualms attempting to squeeze into a Little Red Riding Hood Costume for Halloween. I love real men.
As the lights went down and the show began I looked to my two best friends and asked what we were all about to encounter. Curtains opened and screams filled the room as the act began to swish and turn in provocative move that would make even the Vicar blush. But as I hooted, whistled and screeched at all the scantily clad men on stage during their 'performances' I couldn't help but wonder what we were all doing here. Why had every person in that room purchased a ticket and why was the general population of those tickets bought by women? Well who else other than a few errant gay guys would want to see naked men on a pedestal of sorts, flashing their genitalia and creaming themselves up for another lucky lady, or man in some instances. I pondered across the ideas that whilst the media slams men for gawking at Page 3 (which is now sadly no longer with us due to a boring-arse feminist campaign to ban it) and now women are shunning men even holding doors open for them or having a friendly wolf-whistle in the street, it is somehow widely accepted that women are allowed freely and with little or no confrontation to go about acting the same way towards men straight out of a Diet Coke Advert.
Now I am not trying to get everyone's back up but this seriously crossed my mind as I enjoyed the show on Friday night which believe you me, I enjoyed one hell of a lot. So much so I am thinking about going next year. But I just couldn't shake the fact that if the roles were reversed and it was hordes of men sat here with Victoria Secret-esk models on stage would it still have the lack of Media attention?! The truth is no. Why? I don't know. But what I do know is that if you are prepared to have the conversation about media portraying women in such a sexualised and revealing way then you must be prepared to say the same for the way that women can be just as animalistic and hungry when on the hunt for a man dressed and painted in the same seedy, sexual light as Page 3.
Honestly, I don't see the problem with it. I thoroughly enjoyed the show and all that were involved with it but that was just it. It was a show. Something make-believe and pretend. The normal likes of me and you would probably never end up with a man like one of those oiled up for all female eyes to see. And besides would you really want to when you can see, barely when stripped to the nude, just how much athletics and hard work goes into a man of that build. The same with the women in the audience, crying out to be next in line for a dance. They make such an effort staying slim, constantly re-applying make-up and even considering going under the knife all for the title of Beautiful. I suppose if that night taught me anything at all (apart from some cracking sexy dance moves) that we all have our own body insecurities, both Men and Women - All of us seen in the media as unrealistic, airbrushed, new and improved versions of ourselves. Yes. We all want to be beautiful and gorgeous, but it is about perspective and learning who you are and loving who you are, inside and out. Because whilst I enjoyed the show in all its glory and splendour, I knew that I was going home that night to my very manly, very real Dreamboy.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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