The Blogger May 11, 2016 09:30
For the first time in over five months, I'm feeling stuck for something to say on here. I'm feeling quite low about it, to be honest, ladies and gentlemen.
When are you supposed to grow up? I'm 35 now. Thirty fucking five. I'm a 35 year old grown man with a house and I'm still writing about dance music in a fucking immature voice and peppering my work with loads of swear words. Know what I mean? When do you grow up? I used to be fresh and controversial, with interesting things to say. I used to rail against stuff in dance music that I didn't really care about, but I wrote in such a way that people believed me.
Now? I'm up the arse of so many names in the dance music industry that I'm unable to tell the truth about half of the people and the music and the clubs because I'm up to my nuts in free records, free entry and, lately, opportunities to perform at festivals and pool parties in Ibiza. Yes, you heard me, I'm doing a festival and, if I can convince Mrs. Tonka to come with me, I'm definitely doing a gig in Ibiza too. LOLoutLOUD. I knew there was a reason for me to carry on writing about dance music. I'm fucking good at it, I'm fucking original and I'm fucking good at it.
A festival and Ibiza. Not bad for a cunt who used to troll the RA message boards. Eat that, everyone who ever doubted me and all of the funny-sounding shit-munchers who went to St. Francis of Assisi Roman Catholic Secondary School in Walsall between the years 1992 and 1997. I will not lose ever. I will never stop writing about dance music and being better at it than everyone else. Especially CONTENT REMOVED BY HOTFLUSH LAWYERS.