My Lovely Holiday.
I know. Bit grim. But hark at me for doing it.
Really bigged-it up on my blog first though. You know, for the hits. I need the gratification. 'Oooh you could have gone to Spain, but oh no, Chernobyl for you! Mr. Ace!'
God it was grim. So grim I couldn't help but write three seperate posts about it on MY blog. Because it's ME you see.
Even if I did go to Spain, there'd probably be at least one post.
Oooh parts were awful. Some parts were actually so-not-awful-at-all and I felt a bit let-down. This cost good money I thought. Don't these people know I do something interesting (to me) in the British media?
But it was alright in the end. I met some people who were so desperatly poor that I was amazed they even had electricity. Or tellys and that. Amazingly thet hadn't heard of me, but they let me take their picture.
I do feel quite fulfilled. Like I've learnt something about myself.
It really puts it into perspective. Everyone should do this. Honestly. And bring your kids as well. Because they will fucking love it.
It is so awful though. I would tell you more, but I've got some shitty pilot for whoever to write and if it ever goes into production (which is unlikely) it will sap you of any will to think about anyone worse-off than yourselves.
I'm off to read the Guardian.