Let’s all buy some shit Conor McNicholas doesn’t want or need
Brand-aware multimedia platform behemoth Conor McNicholas tragically lost his brave three-year battle with Hodgkins’ Lymphoma this morning, and has died aged 36. Either that or he’s finally left his position at the NME to take up the reins at Top Gear magazine, one of the two.
We already schooled you to what this means in a greater context on ILB previously, so we won’t bother with the eugoogooly, although it’s perhaps worth noting that Jimbo McMahon, fresh from taking his blog down after an ILB boying, taking a breather from being one of the many odious lickspittles on Twitter who decided to rush to self-righteous pass-agg bitchy oh-so-2008 cockwhore Lily Allen’s defence after she was zinged by self-righteous pass-agg bitchy oh-so-2008 cockwhore Perez Hilton to say the following:
My outgoing NME editor Conor McNicholas just did his leaving speech. I’m drinking beer. I never drink beer. I don’t know what’s come over me
Remember kids: you show true affection to someone by necking a pint of Wifebeater.
But no, we’re here to tell you that Conor M has decided to auction off some useless shit he, or to be honest nobody ever, could possibly want to raise money for Warchild. Now, Warchild are one of the advertisers on the hoardings around the pitch on Football Manager 2009, so they’re probably spent at least £3,000 directly marketing to me, so I may as well give them some shine. Check here for such wonders as an Oasis DVD boxset, a set of four badges, a photograph of the fucking View in concert, and an old-and-busted DAB radio. I just wanna point out that Conny has to be on at least 100k at Top Gear and probably pushing 120k a year, so why he’s trying to pretend he cares about yr dying Darfurians by auctioning off £20 worth of tat, I have no idea.