Sunday 21 February 2010

Groupiedom

Not for the first time, I have been today referred to as a groupie. (Or posing as a groupie, which is a concept too bizarre to contemplate). This is the first time however that such a reference to myself has not been made by myself. Furthermore bizarrement was the indication that being a groupie was in fact harmless and nice.

Self confessed groupieness stems from a tendency to become obsessive about people to the extent that I talk about little else. People to whom I form a groupie-esque attachment become oracles of all truths. Should a God-of-the-moment (very fickle, me) say something is so, then that is Fact. (Charlie Brooker is my current Oracle). The most potent incidence of groupie-age in myself was an obsession with Bernard Butler, but that can be dismissed as I was pregnant at the time and all women (as well as some canny men) know that hormones can be blamed for EVERYTHING.

So. Casual bandyage (possible question as to the existence of the previous word) of the word "groupie" and the context in which I was (immodestly) called a groupie today would seem to be of the same meaning: ardent admirer.

A consultation with Wiki on the subject yields the following definition:

A groupie is a person who seeks emotional and sexual intimacy with a musician or other celebrity. "Groupie" is derived from group in reference to a musical group, but the word is also used in a more general sense, especially in casual conversation.

Yikes!

There is an overwhelming need to point out that I very rarely veer from casual conversation therefore the general sense is the one being referred to.

********

Readers may correctly deduce that I have no ideas of my own. I thus feel it is only fair to throw a subject out there for others to
steal, should they need to. But being unable to think of ideas, I shall ask me old matey Wiki again...

Nope. Can't even offer a stealable idea. Random does appear to be truly random.

BUT!
I did find a glorious reference to Scotland beating England which is ALWAYS fun.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1928_British_Home_Championship

Stop now.








2 comments:

Keir Hardie said...

I said you seemed harmless. Time will tell - maybe one day I will feel something sharp in my back, and the last thing I ever see will be you and Mr. Tickle running away.

verification word - peexcest - wtf?

Keir Hardie said...

Oh, and Bernard Butler has a lovely voice, it's a shame he didn't sing for longer.