Tales of daily life from a 20-something Student from London.

Sunday, 1 May 2011

"Matthew Perry: My Friends and me"

I don't know why I chose Matthew Perry to feature in the headline of this blog. I mean, obviously this is going to be about autobiography, and yeah, it was a good set up for a Friends pun which is the kind of thing you would see on an autobiography. Take Richard Branson's for example: "Losing my virginity". Ha. I get it. He owns Virgin, and losing ones virginity is the perfect shit that fits in someones vein telling of their own life, so it's a double meaning. (This isn't always the case. I mean, Jordan's autobiography is called 'pushed to the limit', and unless she's talking about her bra, or Peter Andre's patience, or her accountants stress levels...actually, I guess it's pretty perfect. Where was I? Matthew Perry, yeah. To sum that up, he had a show on Bio about his life, which was what gave me the idea to query this: if I had an autobiography, what would it be called? I mean, I've mentioned some already that tend to be puns on the writers life or work. I don't have a reason to write an autobiography, as I haven't done anything special, so really it's natural that no title is jumping out. Earlier on, a friend of mine called Nick joked he would call his 'The meat situation' in regards to the meat situation with our barbecue. So I thought, what if everybody's autobiographies had absolutely nothing to do with them whatsoever in any way. 

Jack Hart: The man in the silk gown

I have never worn a silk gown. I don't plan to. I don't overly know what silk feels or even looks like. But bugger me, what an awesome title. Look at all the mystery it provides. Like a smoother and slicker Michael Parkinson, when he was young and having banter with Ali that time. By the time my book had been snapped up by people searching for drama, romance, action, and raw emotion all in one 20 year chronicle of amazement, thanks alone to it's title, I'd be rich and they'd have one boring book (dependent on how boring they find my relatively boring life, of course). Maybe all autobiographies are like this though. I mean, I know Jordan is pumped full of more silicone than a rubber ball factory, but why does she think we need to know? Why do we need to know about how much better these peoples lives are than our own (wow, now Jordan seems like a bad example...) Maybe, we should stop focusing on other peoples lives, and try and make ours just as good. Then maybe, just maybe, twenty years down the line, we can write our own book. Not that I'd condone it one bit.

Over and out.