When I was 16yrs old I was into Westlife and like a true fan I brought into
their endless memorabilia from the overpriced T-shirts to posters that looked
so bad my mother was "forced" to tear them down. Sadly for me and
happily for my poor mother that obsession ended the year I decided to buy one
of their "memoirs". It was unquestioningly one of the worst book I've
ever had the misfortune of buying. For a 12 year old to loose respect for you,
that says a lot about your writing ability. That book was half filled with
picture I could find online, their story was half arsed, rushed and completely
not worth the £10 I saved up all week. I could have brought wine gums with that
well earned money.
Since then my hate for memoirs has deepened and feasted into an unnatural being.
Every year I watch in horror as celebrities flog their dreaded, half arsed
nonsense on talk shows. Sure I will hate you more now I've read about your
impending divorce. With the exception of Miranda Hart, I will not be buying any memoirs this year. My poor bank balance is doing the rumba as we speak.
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