I started reading The Sunday Times when I was a teenager, I came across it in a newsagents after an all night party and was impressed by the sheer size of the thing.

That was back in the 1980’s when life was a little different than today. The Sunday Times was a newspaper that was consumed by a certain type or class of person but eventually I guess found a wider audience as time went on.

What kept me buying the paper was the Culture section which featured many interesting artists and writers. Innovative formats such as the cd freebies were unique and very well done and for a long period The Sunday Times was a paper where you could find out about new bands and musicians whilst the established music papers were all shutting up shop.

The Sunday Times helped stimulate interest in art and culture but eventually became victim to modern times and the digital age. Anything good about the paper was gradually erased over time.

It seemed to me that they axed everything that people like me liked, leaving everything I detested. I confess I liked ‘Winners Dinners’, Michael Winner’s weekly piece about his visits to posh restaurants, it was fairly appalling writing but at least it was honest, Michael is no longer with us but uber petrol head and professional anus Jeremy Clarkson is.

Jeremy is perhaps a role model for all those men with small dicks who believe a flash motorcar will provide the necessary ingredient that will enhance their lives and transform them from the insignificant twits they are.
So Clarkson is still sitting pretty writing tripe and getting paid a significant sum for it.

His mate AA Gill is a good writer and certainly worth keeping on the payroll as that is all he seems to do, the rest seem to be the chosen few left to prop up a completely irrelevant publication.

My Sunday ritual is a ride out on my Triumph, on a summers day it is a glorious experience, and when I am done ripping about the country roads I pick up the paper and some sweets for the kids.

This ritual will continue minus The Sunday Times, I think I must have become immune to the toxic diet of high society and celebrity trash.

It was The Geldofs which finally tipped me over the edge, ok Peaches was a chip off the old block of shite, but I certainly do not revel in her death, it was extremely tragic considering her mother also died from a drug overdose.
You would think that the Geldof family would quietly fuck off into the ether, no such luck, Peaches partner who I cannot bother to name releases an album about loss, love etc and the Sunday Times do a multi-page spread on this guy nobody has ever heard of, sometime later the other daughter Pixie releases an album about loss, love etc and Sunday Times do a multi-page spread and I am thinking what the fuck is going on here.

The Sunday Times likes to give rich people a helping hand or a job to earn a bit of pocket money cause you know Jeremy Clarkson is a bit broke since he lost his car program. The Sunday Times will exist as a fairly accurate indicator that our world is slowly turning to shit.


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