Not Quite Oprah

Strolling home I saw the local crackhead, well, one of them, loitering outside the local drug dealer's house (one of many, unfortunately). I watched him, watching me, sniggering at him, as he paced around all edgy, like crackheads do. As I passed him I thought, "crackheads really piss me off!" Now...I'm not ashamed to admit that I, like most people in the Western world, am privy to a bit of prejudice. People with mono-brows make me anxious, I avoid boarding buses rammed with OAPs, as they often smell a "certain way"; when someone has food particles on their clothes, I think they're a bit dirty, like rats, kind of...OTT?

So, I kind of went on a mental tangent about why I hate crackheads, and everything they stand for (drugs and...getting money for more drugs). Then it dawned on me...I'M TURNING INTO JEREMY KYLE!

I don't know of anyone else who screams at the low lives of the nation with such unwavering passion. He really gets into it, right? Maybe it arouses him. Maybe I'll go on his show and ask him. Maybe I'll scream in his face, make him do a lie detector test, bully him into having "after care sessions" with that Graham dude. At the brink of bursting a brain vessel he yells at his guests' to get anger management help. Ahhh Jeremy, tut tut. I wonder where your efforts come from. A calm and honest place? Do you yearn for moral cleansing? A Great Britain populated by nuclear families, hard-working men, and obedient teens? Possibly. But I don't warm to you. I don't believe your passion. You're not quite Oprah enough.

I don't want to become like Jeremy Kyle. So, to avoid such a fate, I will learn to be more of a listener, than a talker; I will consider the wider context, and not merely regard a crackhead as just a crackhead; I will board a bus full of old people, and not assume that I will die from the stench. I WILL strive to be anything but...Jeremy Kyle.

His guests have such broad vocabularies: