A Dapper Update

ITV2 cancelled Dapper Laughs on the Pull around a week ago, and I know I’m a bit late to the party but I just had to write about it. Because how could I not?

According to Daniel O’Reilly, his now infamous character is DEAD. Did he drown in clunge? He fackin’ wishes!

Yes, Dapper is done. He is no more. Gone – POOF – just like that, leaving behind nothing but a long coil of condoms and the distant sting of Pacco Rabanne in the nostrils. And who should rise from the ashes but a wistful, self-pitying O’Reilly, obviously in mourning if the weird black ensemble he put together for his interview on Newsnight is anything to go by:

Dressed like an Beatnik, O’Reilly spoke with Emily Maitlis about how Dapper Laughs is not in fact an extension of himself like we all thought, but totally and completely made up, and we must be stoopid or summink for believing him. He basically says “This here, me, I’m the real Daniel O’Reilly. I’m real. Back then, with Dapper Laughs, that was all acting. Aaaall acting. That casual misogyny and crude humour? Disgusts me. Disgusting. Bleurgh, sexism. But I had you all convinced, didn’t I! Ha!”

Sat there in his turtleneck and looking like he’s about to procure a large Rioja and cheeseboard from underneath his chair, I was very surprised that the old “Social Experiment” excuse didn’t come tumbling out of his mouth. Because who hasn’t used that as a get-out-of jail-free card (literally) recently? But instead he drops the bombshell that he was acting all along. Whuuuut!

dapper hands up

Take notes, Daniel Day-Lewis, because this is how you really, really go method. O’Reilly was acting hard. He acted so hard that no one could tell the difference between him and his character. So very hard, in fact, that for a while he obviously couldn’t tell either.

And my God, he has suffered for his art. Y’see, when he made jokes that reduces women to “fannies” and “tits” what we didn’t see was O’Reilly at home later that evening, staring out of his rainy window into the darkness, deep in the throes of an existential crisis. And when he said that a female audience member was “gagging for a rape” at one of his gigs, the only thing that was proper moist that night was his pillow as he cried himself to sleep.

But let’s take a moment to appreciate the real star of this interview: Emily Maitlis. Because she is both a pro and a goddess. Maitlis schooled O’Reilly good. She made him look like a right plonker! Watching him squirm as she read his own embarrassing words back to him was a beautiful thing to watch. My favourite part was when Dapper – oop, I mean Daniel – said that this whole saga had ruined his life, and she asked: “So you’re feeling like a bit of a victim now, are you?” WITHOUT LAUGHING. Her poker face is so strong and beautiful and majestic. Oh Maitlis, you sassy dream, you.


But hey, acting or not, we’re safe in the knowledge that Dapper Laughs is no more. Women are free to walk the streets once again without having “she knows” shouted in their face for no apparent reason. We have shown that we will not stand for being the punchline of a joke that we alone are excluded from. Thanks guys and girls, I’m proud of us. Dapper’s fifteen minutes of fame is finally over. Probably should’ve just stuck to the six seconds, ey.


Kim Kardashian Broke My Internet


I am unsure why seeing Kim Kardashian in her nuddiepants has caused such a fuss when most internet users and celebrity porn enthusiasts have already seen her naked in her home movie with Ray J. I recognised her just from her nipples, and I’m still unsure where or when I saw the film. I just know that I have – once on purpose, several times reluctantly.

Whilst KK-West’s pictures have caused a couple problems for me – for example, because her bottom so closely resembles a pillow that you wrap around your neck on an early morning flight to Singapore, every time it pops up on my newsfeed at work it I get super sleepy – they have actually given me much more joy that I expected.

Firstly, it appeals to my creative side. I created a new game that I like to call “Catch the Kardashian.” The main gist of it involves an oily Kim running through a large group of people, and whoever manages to catch her wins a packet of Starburst.

Secondly, my internet at home is actually already broken, so Kim’s aim of “breaking the internet” could potentially work out quite well for me. I’m hoping the following email to Virgin will sufficiently sort the problem:

To whom it may concern,

My internet is currently down, and I have a sneaking suspicion as to why. As you may know, Kim Kardashian set out to break the internet this week and I think she has succeeded in her claim. I think this is the real reason I can’t get online, and not because I tripped over my modem running across the living room so I could scare my boyfriend from behind the door. So if you could come and fix it at your earliest convenience, it would be greatly appreciated. You can send the bill to:

Kim Kardashian West,

The Kardashian Residence,

That Expensive Part of Hollywood,


Kind regards,

Pascale (Day)

I am still awaiting a reply.


So basically, as the title would suggest, I am now famous.

I have achieved notoriety on a major scale. I’ve reached dizzying new heights of stardom, and I am never coming back.

And no, it’s not because of my new article on Hello Giggles (which you can read here.) (And yes, I have been waiting for any excuse to get that into a post.)

A little while ago, I was getting a lot of traffic referrals from Smosh. When I finally decided to find out what all the fuss was about, I discovered that a picture of me had been included on this flattering list:


I’m officially classed as an ugly sneezer. So at least that’s one of life’s most important questions answered in one of the most public ways possible.

And if that wasn’t cool enough, in the comments people began discussing if I, “Picture Three”, could be considered attractive. Me! And my stupid hair and stupid face! Many people said no, that I was not. That I was an insignia of superficial and cosmetic conformity in teenage girls of the 21st Century. Just cos I gone done my hair all silly.




I’m in my mid-twenties, IamApie69. I pay bills and watch Panorama. I don’t even do shots on a night out anymore, man. I’m a proper grown up.

Some said I was singing, and this person claimed that I was their next door neighbour in Australia, and that I sneeze all the time:


They are obviously trying to jump on my glitzy, fame-laden, diamonte-encrusted bandwagon, because I can confirm that I neither live in Australia nor sneeze all that much.

You know you’ve made it when people start arguing over whether you’re ugly or not. I only wish I could show all my haters (Haters! ME!) what I looked like a mere hour after that photo was taken,  when my cold really set in:


And the argument would be settled: I am beautiful.