Oh just shut up Marcus Sweeney, who ever you are.

Honestly, I was going to write a piece about plastic surgery this morning, but an interview with that tangerine nobody Marcus Sweeny caught my eye.
Seriously, I understand a goodly amount of people reading this will go Marcus who? And quite right. But here, let me fill you in.
Marcus Sweeney is the ex-boyfriend of Katy French -the irish model who died from a drug over dose in December, sparking a slew of naval gazing in this country about drug use and the Dianafication of a model who was anything but saintly or devilish, or even that interesting.
Sweeney and French broke up a LONG time ago when he found her-SHOCK HORROR- writhing about on a table -SHOCK HORROR-in her knickers for a photo-shoot-SHOCK HORROR- which happened to be -SHOCK HORROR- in his restaurant. This -SHOCKING HORRORING- discovery sparked a very public 'row', one that catapulted Katy into the role of tabloid darling and Marcus into, well I"m not sure actually. Whatever he was aiming for- probably publicity for his restaurant- backfired as he came across boorish and a bit of a wally.
But at least their spat was mildly entertaining for a while, and Katy milked it for every drop she could get from, playing the hurt victim to a T. (I've got to admit her dogged determination to constantly be in the press was at times amusing and her spats with fellow meedja folk was occasionally diverting over coffee)
But now of course Katy is dead and tox reports reveal what most of us who didn't 'tink kathy ur an angel coz ur 2 brite to live' had already figured out. 24 year old models generally don't drop into a coma and die for no good reason.

That should more or less be the end to the whole sordid affair, but OH NO, not while there's even an ounce of sweet sweet Sweeney sweat to be wrung from the cloth of Katy.
Which brings neatly us to mr tangerine.

Observe,

' Marcus Sweeney has a question for you. For you, and for every one of the readers of this paper. For me, the journalist sitting across from him, for the media industry in general, and ultimately, for the Irish public as a whole. For the past year, his life has been served up for public consumption, and, quoting from the film Gladiator, he wants to know: Are you not entertained?

Sweeney understandably approaches the media gingerly, as if entering into negotiations to broker a ceasefire with a bitter enemy. Like a disgraced politician, he gives each sentence he speaks a mindful, wary consideration."

Aw, diddums. Poor exhausted hunted Marcus. Here's a thing Marcus, if you're so terribly wary of the press why bother talking to them at all? I am wary of cabbage, I don't dress up in my most revealing t-shirts and have it for lunch.


Anyway, the whole article is one long boo hoo
and you can read it for yourself if you have the stomach for it. But don't bother, or do, no, don't, no do. DAMMIT, do read it, it's is the longest whinge and poor me whine you are likely to read this year and quite frankly whoever advised this lumpen gobshite to 'break his silence' is either out to get him or a dumb as a hammer.
Everything about this interview hits a false note, the self interest, the poor me, even the way he speaks about his current girlfriend is offensive and self centered, he can't even pay her a compliment without first linking it to his inner wants and pathetic wannabe-ism.

"The girl I'm with is my rock with no flaws. I can't find a flaw in the girl whatsoever. We were good friends previously and I'd like to thank her personally for standing beside me and basically putting up with such a controversial guy that I am. But really, she knows who I am, but it's not easy."

I mean give me a break. Can't find a flaw huh? Glad she meets your exacting standards That's nice, glad you looked though Marcus. I imagine she spends all her time nice and relaxed around you.
Controversial guy? Controversial? Oh how he wishes. And how do I know that? Because he has said so. He wants to be, he wants to be spoken about, considered interesting, noticed. Anything but what he is, an overly tanned ten-a-penny entitlement riddled boor, so utterly vapid and void of any personality you wouldn't notice him unless he was doing a bang up job of drawing attention to himself, and here chumlies, is where Marcus learned from the mistress.
Are we entertained? Not really Marcus. Not really. But I"m pretty sure that won't stop you.