For fans of this series and poetry, I came across this funny little poem on Facebook, thought you'd all appreciate! 
Link to credit:
http://www.facebook.com/ISeeYouStories?fref=nf
I see you, Perez Hilton.
I see you talking to yourself, one-two, one-two. I see you strutting, one-two, one-two. I see you narrating your own life, like you're living in a Truman Show of your own creation, one-two, one-two. I see you, my Miami sister. I see you, looking like Peter Dinklage in a funhouse mirror.
I say I see you, Perez Hilton-Lannister. In truth I watched eight minutes of you, and you made Katie Hopkins look human, and I got so confused that I had to push my face in to a hedge and pretend the world was ending until my heart slowed down. I don't know what you are, Perez Hilton. I don't know how you exist. You are a void with skin, feeding on empty air, a noiseless thought farted out of God's cloaca straight in to the pages of a glossy magazine. I see the sum of your life in the tacky pages of an old copy of Heat, picked up in the waiting room of an NHS dentist and thumbed through by a mother of two waiting for her root canal.
I see Nadia Sawalha. I see Kavana. I see Alicia Douvall. I see Not-Luther-Vandross get grumpy and leave. I see Evil Brunette Barbie get evicted and I see The Tattooed Angry One and... and I cry, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I remember when Channel 5 was just softcore porn at 3am. And I wonder how we came to this.
I see Bananagate. I see the old man from Coronation Street be appalling, and I see them kick him out. I see the mentally disturbed man with an alcohol problem who needs help do something slightly more shocking than the shocking thing the producers expected the mentally disturbed man with an alcohol problem to do when they locked him in a room with no help and gave him alcohol, and I see them kick him out too. I sigh, Perez Hilton-Lannister.
I see that power is a trick, Perez Hilton-Lannister, a shadow on the wall. I see that sometimes, the tiniest gossip columnist can cast the greatest shadow. I see that you must cast the greatest shadow of them all, Perez Hilton-Lannister, if you are to prevail.
I see you smile, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I feel the earth shake, and I see the champagne flutes fall from the table and shatter into crystal snowflakes on the floor. I see the water in the hot tub slosh from side to side, and I see it boiling. I see Alicia Douvall and Calum Best howl and blister to death in seconds, leaving nothing behind but a series of implants and a scummy red broth.
I see Keith Chegwin grab his ears and collapse to the ground. I see his head explode, showering the mirrored walls with brains and gristle. He didn't even have time to block you on Twitter, did he, Perez Hilton-Lannister?
I see your shadow grow, Perez Hilton-Lannister, as the blood sweats from your pores and covers you in glistening crimson. I see you giggling, turning on the spot, thunder roaring overhead.
I see Katie Hopkins scowl. I see her unfurl her leathery wings, and I see them envelope Cami Li and Michelle Visage. I hear them hissing as they evaporate in howling torrents of green smoke, passing through to their own hateful dimension in order to escape you.
I see Katie Price roll her eyes and sit down. She's used to this reality TV bollocks after all, and nothing bothers her any more.
I see the tentacles burst from the base of your spine, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I see them whip around you, churning the air, tearing chunks out of the walls and ceiling. I see Patsy Kensit ensnared and torn into giblets. I see Kavana scream and turn to flee. I see him thump against the glass doors. I see a tentacle spear him through the throat, and I see the smear of frothy blood he leaves against the glass as he collapses to the ground.
I see the storm pass, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I see your great shadow clawing at the walls as it is sucked back in to you. I see the tentacles recede. I see the blood dripping from your hair. I see you crying. Bloody hell, Perez Hilton-Lannister. You don't half throw a tantrum.
And you have thrown a tantrum, Perez Hilton-Lannister. And a gossip columnist always pays his debts.
I see Nadia Sawalha come in and survey the carnage. I see her tut and shake her head. She'll make a kedgeree, Perez Hilton-Lannister, for you and Katie Price. And then everything will be alright.
I see the producers panicking. This series is a bloody shambles, isn't it? Thank God they've got Jake Quickenden on speed dial.
I see you, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I ****ing see you.
Last edited by EternalFlame : 05-02-2015 at 18:37
Link to credit:
http://www.facebook.com/ISeeYouStories?fref=nf
I see you, Perez Hilton.
I see you talking to yourself, one-two, one-two. I see you strutting, one-two, one-two. I see you narrating your own life, like you're living in a Truman Show of your own creation, one-two, one-two. I see you, my Miami sister. I see you, looking like Peter Dinklage in a funhouse mirror.
I say I see you, Perez Hilton-Lannister. In truth I watched eight minutes of you, and you made Katie Hopkins look human, and I got so confused that I had to push my face in to a hedge and pretend the world was ending until my heart slowed down. I don't know what you are, Perez Hilton. I don't know how you exist. You are a void with skin, feeding on empty air, a noiseless thought farted out of God's cloaca straight in to the pages of a glossy magazine. I see the sum of your life in the tacky pages of an old copy of Heat, picked up in the waiting room of an NHS dentist and thumbed through by a mother of two waiting for her root canal.
I see Nadia Sawalha. I see Kavana. I see Alicia Douvall. I see Not-Luther-Vandross get grumpy and leave. I see Evil Brunette Barbie get evicted and I see The Tattooed Angry One and... and I cry, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I remember when Channel 5 was just softcore porn at 3am. And I wonder how we came to this.
I see Bananagate. I see the old man from Coronation Street be appalling, and I see them kick him out. I see the mentally disturbed man with an alcohol problem who needs help do something slightly more shocking than the shocking thing the producers expected the mentally disturbed man with an alcohol problem to do when they locked him in a room with no help and gave him alcohol, and I see them kick him out too. I sigh, Perez Hilton-Lannister.
I see that power is a trick, Perez Hilton-Lannister, a shadow on the wall. I see that sometimes, the tiniest gossip columnist can cast the greatest shadow. I see that you must cast the greatest shadow of them all, Perez Hilton-Lannister, if you are to prevail.
I see you smile, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I feel the earth shake, and I see the champagne flutes fall from the table and shatter into crystal snowflakes on the floor. I see the water in the hot tub slosh from side to side, and I see it boiling. I see Alicia Douvall and Calum Best howl and blister to death in seconds, leaving nothing behind but a series of implants and a scummy red broth.
I see Keith Chegwin grab his ears and collapse to the ground. I see his head explode, showering the mirrored walls with brains and gristle. He didn't even have time to block you on Twitter, did he, Perez Hilton-Lannister?
I see your shadow grow, Perez Hilton-Lannister, as the blood sweats from your pores and covers you in glistening crimson. I see you giggling, turning on the spot, thunder roaring overhead.
I see Katie Hopkins scowl. I see her unfurl her leathery wings, and I see them envelope Cami Li and Michelle Visage. I hear them hissing as they evaporate in howling torrents of green smoke, passing through to their own hateful dimension in order to escape you.
I see Katie Price roll her eyes and sit down. She's used to this reality TV bollocks after all, and nothing bothers her any more.
I see the tentacles burst from the base of your spine, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I see them whip around you, churning the air, tearing chunks out of the walls and ceiling. I see Patsy Kensit ensnared and torn into giblets. I see Kavana scream and turn to flee. I see him thump against the glass doors. I see a tentacle spear him through the throat, and I see the smear of frothy blood he leaves against the glass as he collapses to the ground.
I see the storm pass, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I see your great shadow clawing at the walls as it is sucked back in to you. I see the tentacles recede. I see the blood dripping from your hair. I see you crying. Bloody hell, Perez Hilton-Lannister. You don't half throw a tantrum.
And you have thrown a tantrum, Perez Hilton-Lannister. And a gossip columnist always pays his debts.
I see Nadia Sawalha come in and survey the carnage. I see her tut and shake her head. She'll make a kedgeree, Perez Hilton-Lannister, for you and Katie Price. And then everything will be alright.
I see the producers panicking. This series is a bloody shambles, isn't it? Thank God they've got Jake Quickenden on speed dial.
I see you, Perez Hilton-Lannister. I ****ing see you.
Last edited by EternalFlame : 05-02-2015 at 18:37
