Some of these celebrities would swap lives with you so fucking fast they'd leave their Gucci slippers behind. And there you are, sitting in your Primark dressing gown wishing you had their life. You absolute donut. You see the mansions, private jets, expensive cars and think they've completed life. You've got no fucking clue what goes on behind closed doors, what some of them sacrificed to get there, or what their families have had to put up with. Some would happily hand over every last penny just to be a nobody again. But there's one tiny fucking problem. They can't go back. Once you've crossed certain lines, you can't just ring customer services and ask for a refund on your soul. And you think that smiling face on television means they're living the dream? Fucking hell, even a toothpaste advert has happier people in it. There's shit behind those curtains you wouldn't believe if it came with subtitles. Meanwhile, you're sat at home eating beans on toast, free to go wherever you want, answer to nobody and sleep at night without wondering what the fuck you've got yourself into. And you're jealous of them? You lucky bastard. You don't even know it.