Friday, October 30, 2009

The Grimes Twins

If I was the Grimes Twins Father, I’d have them both shot. I’d send them to a borstal. I’d pay a Limerick man to spring on them with a bicycle chain. I’d have them help me pour concrete for a new 'patio' in the garden and try to convince my wife that she's gone crazy and that we never even had kids when she wonders where they are. I’d spend 10 years studying orbital-mechanics just to be able to build a rocket in which to blast them into space. I’d get them a pet bear for their room and goad him with insulting text messages until he finally goes berserk. I’d have them boiled. I’d encourage them to bathe, face down, with a rucksack of bricks and toasters on their backs. I’d paste their faces onto tins of dog food and gradually train the pet Doberman to think of them as food. I’d invite disgraced priests for sleep-over's.

Think that’s cruel? Just about to dial the Garda confidential hot-line or are you already on Joe Duffy?? Well, before you say anything, have a think. Which is worse – the above litany of poor parenting, or the one which the two boys are already subjected to?

You see, pushing these boys onto X-Factor is a million million times worse that any of my evil suggestions.

Throw an industrial sized pot of hair gel into the air and you’ll hit someone who truly hates them. Their arrogant swagger. Their atrocious singing. The hair. They are a joke, actually, they are two jokes. But it’s not their fault.

When you’re 17, you’re pretty much the biggest dickhead ever to walk the planet. You’re a grade A knob-end, thinking you know everything. You’re brainless, clueless and need constant monitoring in case you do something very foolish. It’s with the grace of god and some good parenting that you emerge the other side a better person. When your life eventually makes sense, at around the 29 mark, you’ll look back at your younger, slimmer self and laugh. The poor Grimey Twins won’t be able to do that, because after the constant abuse they have been receiving on the show and the fact that they’ll always be defined at ‘those vertical haired Irish fucktards who couldn’t hold a note if it had handles’, they’ll have killed themselves.

Their Father, who appears in the news almost as much as they do, should have pulled them off the show ages ago. It’s one thing seeing your sons prancing around the stage singing ‘Oops I did it again’ in cat-suits and it’s another altogether when you stand by and let them take the abuse.

Disgraceful, says Disgrace.

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