He's pulled the same tired shit of using an awards show to "get even" with somebody who broke his big fat heart. And we're ALL supposed to be happy for him.
"“I want to thank the man who this record is about, who I fell in love with last year. Thank you so much for breaking my heart, ’cause you got me four Grammys.”
Bitchy, bitchy.
But art follows fart. After Sam farted this guy's semen out of his ass, he crawled into a recording studio, stole the title of another hit song, had TOM PETTY's music humming in his head, and the rest is history.
Where was Kanye West to pull a Grammy out of Sam's pudgy fingers and say it belonged to TOM PETTY?
You tweet it, TIM, and others:
Nice that Twitter had some realists the other night.
They were asking why Sam didn't offer an apologetic, "And thanks to Tom Petty for his inspiration...and his kind understanding that I did not borrow from him intentionally." No, on and on Sam went, thanking this person and that person, and giving his smug little middle-finger to some bar pick-up that didn't end with him in a wedding dress.
In picking up four fucking awards, this tedious pudding couldn't mention Tom Petty. Of course not. Why remind everyone of somebody with a lot more talent as a songwriter. (Hey, I'm not going so far as to say that Tom has a better voice! More expressive maybe, but jeez, Tom, blow your nose once in a while.)
Ultimately award shows are vicarious thrills and everyone was supposed to feel good that the poor, unhappy FAT KID got ALL THE TOYS.
Look at that sappy expression on his face. NO sincerity at all. Smugness at best. What a creep.
Now that he's got awards, he's ready to move on and fall in love another dozen or two times with drunks in bars and anyone waving his pissy dick at a urinal. Homosexuals are notoriously UN-romantic and most of them are grotesquely promiscuous. That's how AIDS reached such an epidemic level. That's why George Michael has been seen in more mens rooms than a janitor. What a farce that this clod would think that some guy, widening Sam's pudgy ass a few times, would want to spend the rest of his life with such an overbaked fish cake.
Fine. Now Sam Smith can join Adele as a fatty who is now worth a fortune, and so might have better luck attracting a parasite who'll hang around a while. Congrats, fat cat, you'll now find someone who'll put up with the mewling, and self-indulgence, and the fifty extra pounds of unsightly FLAB you have. Not to mention a nether fuck orifice that probably yawns like a hippo after a mud bath.
It didn't take long for this detestable prima donna to start his diva act going. Like Viley Virus, this Sam Smith cretin has the ego to post any repulsive photo of himself, as if we ALL want to see it. Ooooh, he's got a hangover from partying with his trophies. Let's all see HIM with his fucking tongue hanging out.
Note, he calls his account Sam Smith World. Right, it's HIS world, we just live in it. Oh come let us adore him. He's Viley Virus with a hundred extra pounds only not as masculine. One can only look forward to next MONTH when this overstuffed biscuit has gone as stale as fat cow Adele and crazy lady Susan Boyle.
IF I'M BEING HONEST, none of them have much real talent or personality. Having a BIG voice, or one that can mewl over a ballad, is not much of an achievement. Scratch the surface on all three, and look at the arrogance. They all came off as SO pitiful. Fat wallflowers, every one. Then as soon as they got any attention, they ALL became nasty, dictatorial, egocentric and downright nasty. You might say that the speeches Adele and Sam Smith gave bashing exes was revenge. No, because really talented and humble people aren't that petty. What they said only proves that they're warped, disgusting, selfish, and their relationships probably failed more because of their own faults and delusions than their partners.
At least Susan the Boil can blame it on autism or sour milk or whatever she wants to blame it on. Fat Sam and Fatter Adele are, as the phrase goes, "no better than they should be," and they both should be sitting on their fat arses with their millions, and giving a cease and desist to rending the air with their bellicose ballads. FUCK OFF, the pair of you. You too, Boyle, if anybody still cares. PS, anyone heard from Charlotte Church lately?
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