Oestrus Pudenda Creative Genius

It is a dark night indeed when one of Hollywood’s most celebrated talents dons a latex suit and (allegedly) beats the living shit out of his mum and sister or is it? Perhaps the bitch had it coming, I had to slap my gran only last week.

I for one have met my fair share of pushy parents at castings and the pound signs that ping in their eyes when little Tarquinii jumps through hoops are thinly disguised, just as the thunderbolts shot across the room if Tarquinii fails to perform send shivers down my spine.

I remember when I was eight and all I wanted to do was play in the dirt and throw stones at girls. Poor young Christian Bale, through no fault of his own, was being dragged round studios to hawk overpriced crap to Middle America. Just watching American commercials makes my skin itch so being forced to work in them must be close to a living hell.

I’m sure young Christian was a prodigious and ubiquitous talent, he did after all land the starring role in Empire of the Sun aged just twelve. but just as Citizen Kane spent a lifetime trying to find that crappy sledge, is it possible all the attention, pressure and roids finally erupted into a long overdue (alleged) ass kicking for a childhood lost in the lights of one of the most vacuous, intensive and intrusive industries in the world (I know air traffic controllers are under a lot of pressure but they don’t start aged eight).

So, next time Young Tarquinii says he would rather go and play than take instructions from the fat bearded paedo in a baseball cap maybe his parents should listen, as who knows what might be standing at the bottom of the bed ripped and roided to the max, looking for payback on a childhood thrown to the wolves of marketing. If, however, your son is keen to join a dance and theatre group aged eight, by all means take him along and while your there resign yourself to the fact that you won’t be getting any grandkids from that one as he is undoubtedly gay.

OP out.