Are you kidding me?

"Are you fucken kidding me? Seriously? You're a writer? Really?

I thought you were maybe a crack dealer or a heroin addict or something like that. I would never have guessed you were a writer."

I'm not joking when I say that people have actually said that to me. Am I really a writer? Are you a writer before you get published? I think so because, well, you write.

For me at least it is all about the act rather than the title. People are so caught up in titles; as far as I've seen they always have been.

So I'm going to jump on the bandwagon.

I was at a club once and at the bar awaiting the barman who was obviously serving anything with breasts first; I considered taking off my shirt because at this wanky club I probably had bigger tits than most of the women there. I spoke to a woman next to me, a mistake I realised about thirty seconds too late; I said "Hey, how you doin?" She said, and I'm not paraphrasing when I say she said, "What car do you drive?" Mentally I went, what the fuck did you just say? Verbally I said "A Mercedes. It's parked outside in the bus garage." Bear in mind that at that time in London, Mercedes made the London buses.

How shallow do you have to be for that to be the first question out of your mouth when you first talk to someone? Do I look stupid? Do I look like a professional football player? Really? Bitch.

That's not to say that all footballers are stupid but there's another label for you.

It's this kind of bullshit labelling that really gets me wound up.

If you know anything about me you know that I've been professionally cooking longer than Gary Glitter has been a fucken pervert. That's a really long time. That's a label that sticks. Oh you're a chef? Apparently that has to mean that you're a deadbeat, alcoholic, drug addict piece of shit. Well I'm not denying any of the above but I dare to dream. So sue me.

Then comes the next question. I can hear it forming in their brain before they even know what's coming next; I've had this conversation a few times, you may have guessed.

"Where do you work?" Another fucken label. Damn it. It's inescapable. Do you work somewhere they know? Or have you worked with someone famous? Shit.

That's the beast that this industry has become, name dropping.

Yeah I fingered Gordon Ramsey in the dry store at blah de blah or I did coke through dry penne pasta with Anthony Bordain at such and such. What a pile of shit.

Can I cook? Yeah, I do ok but any Muppet can cook. I've taught chimps to cook. Complete tools that could literally burn water to be able to serve a busy Saturday night shift in a two hundred seat restaurant; and do it well.

Not everyone can write. Very few can write and even fewer get published.

Which leads me to marketing geniuses like Katie Price or Jordan or whatever the hell she calls herself? I don't mean to single her out but I'm using her as a representative of completely talentless fucken idiots that get publishing deals for no other reason than she is famous. There are seriously talented writers who can't get publishing contracts; I'm not counting myself in this group by the way. I don't even understand how to speak the English language let alone be able to know how to punctuate it. Colon? Semi colon? Isn't that somewhere in my digestive tract?

Don't get me wrong here, it's not that I'm bitter and twisted; I know that publishing is a business and business needs to make money, but really?

I suppose I'll be called a hypocrite at this point. What kind of self-important wanker tweets, Facebook's, and writes a blog, calls proven, selling, published author’s frauds? I do.

I'm in a really fortunate position in that I don't give a shit what people think of me. Never have. Sorry.

Just because you're famous for one thing, in Jordan's case, getting your tits out, doesn't mean you have talent elsewhere.

I don't blame people like her that milk it for every penny that they can get, after all plastic surgery isn't cheap but in the end it comes down to sales I suppose.

Who the hell reads her books? Have they got pictures of her with her top off? If so I'd say guys with a boob fetish would snap all the copies up off the shelves so they have some pages to stick together on those cold, lonely nights stuck at home watching "take me out" hoping that they could just get some girl to look at them naked without laughing or throwing up in their own mouth and swallowing it back down again.

No, it's women who buy those kinds of books. I once watched a TV show starring Katie Price as she went to a book signing and they interviewed people in the majority female queue and asked why they were there. The standard answer was that they saw her as inspirational. Really? People are inspired by a woman who takes her fake breasts out to be photographed, inspirational? Amazing. So. Um. I'm really confused right now.

So let me see if I can get this straight.

Fake boob’s equals good writer?

That settles it I'm getting a boob job.

As I said she's not alone. She has a brilliant marketing mind. She's not stupid.

Look at someone else let's say, Sharon Osborne. Smart lady. I think we can all agree but talent?

She obviously has some; she married a rock star.

Writer? Who knows? Not me. I've never been that desperate for something to read; and I've read tea leaves before.

And another question, do they actually write their books?

Anyone who has written knows that writing can be a long, laborious, thanks less and at times tedious job which begs the question, why would someone with a heap of money in the bank commit themselves to it? Passion? Commitment to their art? I think not.

Then there's the next set of complete assholes, the pop stars and reality TV stars. What a complete fucken joke.

Half of them are in their 20's and get a book deal to write an autobiography. What? What have they got to say? They haven't even lived yet. I could even give you a synopsis without ever having read one. Shall I? Ok.

I was born to a couple of complete retard parents who mistakenly had sex in a nightclub toilet stall and my mother got banged up. They were so busy with their own lives that us kids, all ten of us had to fend for ourselves in our caravan parked next to a rubbish dump. It made me determined to be someone special, so I went and got locked in a house with a bunch of completely talentless fucken idiots and you morons watched that shit and made me famous. I got PAID! And a book deal. I'm twenty now. What does the future hold?

Who the hell would read that shit?

Boo hoo so you had a tough time when you were a kid. Join the club and get over it. What does the future hold? Probably a massive drug habit that will rob you of whatever looks you have and all your ill-gotten gains. Hello Kerry Katona.

The blame rests with us. You and me. We are the buying public. It's our money that decides who gets a book deal. Don't settle for the shit that these people try and peddle.

As far as I'm concerned those kinds of people should just be locked in a house, no cameras, just locked in. Done and done.

So if you have to pigeonhole me which pigeonhole do I fit into?

Well I'd have to say an angry young man. One who cooks and writes and generally likes to have a good time.

But who am I to say? Or should I say who will know?  I don't have a book contract.