• Have the Globes to award horror!

    I’m thinking on the lighter things of life today - and you can't get much lighter than the movie and entertainment world. I was glad to see the Brits did very well in the recent Golden Globe awards in the USA.

    A big well done to Stephen Hawking for his performance in that movie about his younger, romantic days.

    I'm sure he'll do very well when the Oscar time comes around. Sorry, not Stephen Hawking. The actor that played the role of Steven... what was his name again?

    Anyway, its award season in the movie and TV world once again and I bet you every penny I have that there still won't be any big horror films winning anything. I'll go further than that, I promise to bare my naked arse in the shop window of Harrods if I get the lifetime achievement Oscar that I so richly deserve.

    Not that I am better than others in any way or form, but what about the great horror directors, actors and writers that are out there each and every year? Awards come around and they are ignored time and time again. That makes me feel sick. For a genre that brings millions to the film industry as a whole, we are treating them like inbred second cousins twice-removed that Hollywood and the upper-crust movie snobs refuse to talk about.

    So, I'm expressing my freedom of speech and sending out a plea to my learned colleges in the Academy - Give horror a chance.

    Maybe they think real life is scary enough in itself. Then why not nominate a comedy film for a bit of bloody escapism?

    Maybe I'll turn up at the Oscars this year as the prophet Muhammad Ali to add a bit of horror and humour to the event.

    Watch this space...

    Kensington Gore

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  • Freedom of speach.

    A sort of web blog.

    In this blog/book I hope to put the world to rights with my opinions of modern day life in general.

    I plan to talk about things that other, more prominent men then I, talk about. Tough, hard-hitting subjects - things that people should know about but that some are afraid to speak of.

    I'm a big believer in freedom of speech. That's when my wife allows me to talk, that is.

    The terrible atrocities of the terrorist attack on Charlie Hebdo in Paris have been reported on a lot recently.

    In my opinion, free speech is a right that people should be allowed, come what may.

    People of any race, colour, creed or religion should be able to say and do whatever they want.

    Nobody should take another person's life just because they don't like their views or because of something they have said or done. That’s regardless of how much offence it has caused them.

    Naturally, those offended also have a right to express their opinion and say that they're not happy about it. That is the whole point of freedom of speech. And they should be allowed to say what they wish as a counterargument.

    However, nobody should pick up arms and threaten people verbally or physically. We have evolved. We need to better ourselves and stand up to bullies at each and every opportunity.

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  • Fighting "The Big D"!

    Depression is a sickness, one of the very worst kind. You can't see it to look at someone, it doesn't show up on X-Rays but it's there and it's real and in worst cases can be life destroying.

    Depression is crippling and painful, not just for the sufferer but the loved ones and family around the person that is depressed.

    If you feel you are depressed then please go and seek medical advice. In this country depression is a bit of a taboo subject to talk about. Going to get "professional help" in America say, is looked as an everyday occurrence, like going to the dentists or hair dressers; openly saying "my shrink is marvellous and has turned my life around."

    They openly ask and talk what medications each other are on. In this country we live in denial and would rather cut their own tongues out with a rusty knife before we say we are taking any kind of antidepressant.

    I am on medication at the moment, happy to say a small doze but been on them some time now and feel no quick end is in sight.

    The one thing you can't hide is when you are not happy inside. Depression leaks through any false sunny disposition and brings you and those around you down.

    I myself swing from, "I'm on top of the world, I can do anything." To "I am worthless, my life sucks, I want to disappear!"

    The meds just give me a more balanced equilibrium look to my life. But they aren't me. A lot of creative types are said to suffer from these wild mood swings but I can't let it destroy my life.

    I've lost friends, lovers and even my first wife who don't understand my "sickness."

    It's hard to try and tell someone, no matter how close, exactly how low or desperate you feel inside.

    Every day we ask and are asked "how are you doing today?" We all lie by saying "fine thanks." and the odd times I've tried to tell the truth by saying "depressed and sick of life" you receive no answer or the odd bit of false sympathy where they make a mental note not to bother asking you a question where they can't cope with a truthful answer.

    Lots of people can't see it and just presume that is your normal grumpy disposition, or selfish cry for help.

    Depression is a hidden monster or cancer. It's no visible outward sign. It's not like being blind or having a broken leg, where one has a cane, dark glasses or in the case of a broken leg a big plaster cast where friends and family have wrote on words of love and encouragement.

    At least with a broken leg you want to get out of bed. That horrible numb feeling. A feeling of dread and then despair stops depressed people wanting to move.

    Maybe people that suffer from depression should carry around something saying so or a plaster body cast that friends can write on it "get well soon!" Or "keep taking the tablets!"

    There are different types of depression and levels of course.

    And to compare one to another just wouldn't be right in any way what so ever.

    No one has the monopoly on depression or if they think theirs is worse and in some warped way "better or more important" than others have is almost a worse problem than depression.

    Lots of things cause depression and it is a chemical imbalance. But it can be controlled and understood.

    So, in conclusion people reading this who think they have depression and aren't doing anything about please do and seek help.

    People that do suffer and are trying to fight it keep up the good fight, you are not alone. Those that don't suffer but know they have people with depression in their life try to be supportive, help where you can but above all understand it's a sickness and together we have to all fight and can only then conquer "the big D".

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  • 2013 A YEAR OF...

    Horse meat eating,

    Armstrong cheating.

    One Pope leaving,

    One arriving.

    Death of Thatcher

    Celebrity diving

    Blurred Lines, naked tunes

    Yewtree, UKIP & other loons.

    Rebecca Brooks and Phone hacking

    Train link White elephants,

    With government backing.

    Plebgate row & mess

    A new Royal highness

    Also lots of Miley Cyrus

    Marriages for same sex fellas

    Breaking Bad,

    RIP to Nelson Mandela.

    by Kensington Gore

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  • Looking up "Old friends" & "The Old Enemy".

    ANOTHER WEEK IN GORE:

    It's been a week of catching up. Have you noticed the older one gets the more one seems to have to do and the less time and energy you bloody have to do it?

    On Monday I saw an old friend Bendy Wendy who is a contortionist by trade but times are getting hard for sixty year old Wendy and she’s struggling to make both ends meet.

    She’s looking for a new position; I just hope she doesn’t get stuck in a compromising position as she told me to look her up. The way she was bent over backwards I couldn’t help but do just that.

    At her age it was quite a sight I can tell you! But it did remind me to take my pet spaniel to the vets on Tuesday to have his ears pinned back!!

    A trip to the vet is always a scary time for me. as I remember the time I took my pet dog Fang... (this is from my Diary - Another Year Closer to Death available at http://amzn.to/16W1YFr

    My dog Fang is misbehaving again. He’s always been somewhat devil-may-care with his desires – basically he’ll hump anything in sight. Today the vicar came around collecting for a worthy cause – something along the lines of single mothers with sex addiction problems. I always like to give them a helping hand when I can. But Fang seems to have a sex addiction problem of his own because all the way through the vicar’s chat he was constantly humping the poor cleric’s leg. The vicar was too polite – or more than bloody likely scared – to say anything until Fang had finished his business. Then the vicar in a shaky nervous voice asked for a cigarette and a damp cloth.

    I said to Marge, “I’m going to have to get him castrated.” The dog I mean, not the vicar. I rang the vet to make an appointment and couldn’t believe the cost; I’d do it myself with a couple of house-bricks, but I don’t want him biting my hand off. I’m not a cruel person, I actually love animals. I sometimes behave like one, in bed I mean. I don’t urinate against lamp-posts. Well, not very often....

    (next day)

    The trip to the vet’s was strange. The vet gave me a shock when he said, “I’m sorry Mr Gore, I’m going to have to put your dog down.”

    “Why?” I gasped.

    “He’s too heavy and he’s hurting my arms.”

    The bloody vet had obviously passed veterinarian school and clown school on the same day.

    Fang, however, hasn’t got much of a sense of humour, and he didn’t take kindly to this twit of a vet sticking a finger up his arsehole to see if his colon was impacted. Just as he was saying, “I should have bought your dog a drink first”, Fang managed to reach under himself and bite the vet’s wrist.

    I quipped to the vet that I hoped he had more luck with the ladies with his full-on foreplay.

    The vet made sure Fang was well sedated before he did anything else. I felt guilty having the old dog castrated, thinking if the roles were reversed would I want to be deprived of my manhood? Marge would quite happily have castrated me many times in our married life ...

    On the way home Fang gave me a sleepy look that seemed to say, “Man, how could you? Just you wait until you are naked and bending down in the bathroom. I’ll get my revenge!“ I felt awful inside since I’ve ruined his sex life.

    Wednesday saw the oldest game in football. where England took on the “old enemy” at Wembley. For a so called 'friendly' it was a bloody good game and very intense. Like true footy internationals used to be. I fell the passion is gone out of the game and with the Premiership kicking off I hope the players show more passion for the game rather than the passion to get huge amounts of cash and not think of themselves. Any professional footballers reading this, or having it read for them in David Beckham's case, help your local community and think of the fans that pay your huge wage.

    Thursday - I met another old friend. Lesley the Lumberjack, I always thought she was a lesbian and the only time she worked with wood and handled a big chopper was when she was chopping down trees. But I guess I was wrong she's only gone and married another lumberjack; a male one. But they are not ok. They're often at logger heads.

    I suggested they have a have child, sure he'd be a chip off the old block.

    Friday - I've decided there is way too much death and misery in the world and granted in my films I might have caused some of it but that is horror for entertainment. Life and the news can be too full of horror and I feel it's kind of swamping some people of late. So I thought how can I help. I always try to be supportive and pay it forward and be constructive. This might only be a small gesture but I thought we need a bloody good laugh so I thought I'd make Kensington Gore's Dead Funny Joke Book

    http://amzn.to/16W33wT

    FREE for this weekend.

    So do get a copy and tell friends to have a laugh. Use the medicine of laughter to improve the world even if it's just a little bit. Because as someone once said and in the end the love you give is equal to the love you make and I love to make a lot of bloody love.

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