Fielder Civil, 26, has admitted on June 20, 2006, he did indeed assault James King.

Obviously, it isn’t the James King who does those movie reviews for Radio 1 that we’re referring to as, in the eyes of any judge, assaulting him would be no crime at all.

The James King we speak of is the landlord of Macbeth’s pub in London, and Fielder-Civil has also pleaded guilty to conspiring to pervert the cause of justice by offering James King money in return for him dropping the allegations as well as leaving the country.

This will no doubt be great news for Amy Winehouse who, it is has been alleged, wants her husband – who she promised to stand by till death does ‘em part – to remain in jail for as long as he can.

Fielder-Civil will be sentenced next month, after the trial of his co-defendants is expected to finish.

According to UK sentencing guidelines, Blake can expect to spend about three years in jail for the GBH offence, as well as fined and/or more time in jail for the justice perverting. He was arrested seven months ago to the day, back in 9th November 2007, but was denied bail and remains on remand. Any sentencing will take this in to consideration.

Amy Winehouse didn’t bother turning up to Snaresbrook Crown Court to see Blake plead guilty. A ‘family friend’ told People:

She is obsessional about him. She does the same thing about visiting him in prison. She means to go and then she has a bad night and turns up late and they don’t let her in. They don’t mess around there [at London's Pentonville Prison].

Quite often when you are told the quote is from a ‘source’ or ‘family friend’ you’d do well to be quite cynical regarding the truthfulness of it, but the use of the word ‘obsessional’ here confirms beyond any doubt that this is a friend of Amy Winehouse.

The friend went on to explain how Amy is handling the news:

This isn’t Amy’s biggest problem. She’s a smart girl and she’s such a great talent and she’s strong. Nobody can help her at this point until she decides to help herself.

And, once again, no friend of Blake has spoken up to defend him. But all that matters is that Amy is definitely alright.

Phew.

According to the scientists, who have conducted ‘research’, Jessica Alba had sex with her husband, Cash Warren, approximately nine months ago and, as far as hecklerspray can deduce, this is somehow linked to the emergence of the little girl.

They have decided to name the little girl Honor Marie Warren. Giving the girl a tag such as this will help to identify her when there are two or more little girls in the same room and in later life people can call out this name in order to get the girl’s attention. Pretty smart when you think about it. Saves a lot of faffing.

Honor Marie Warren was probably called Honor because Jessica Alba and Cash Warren felt honored by having her, just as Cash Warren was named by his parents who felt a tight financial burden by having him. His parents were more accurate.

When Honor grows up, every time a boy kisses her they will no doubt follow it up by saying “what an honor”.

It won’t be confined to just boys either. Throughout her life, whenever she does a favor for anyone, or when anyone does a favor for her, someone will say “it’s been an honor” and then laugh.

At the age of about six, Honor will be asking God why her parents gave her such a rubbish name.

This will evolve into a deep psychological problem by the time she reaches adolescence and, if she isn’t fortunate enough to have inherited her mother’s gluteal genes as compensation, she will probably be reaching for the medicine cabinet before she makes her 20s.

It all happened on Saturday, June 7 in Los Angeles. Her representative, Brad Cafarelli, confirmed so to People magazine.

Jessica Alba was recently interviewed by Fit Pregnancy. When asked what kind of a mother she’d like to be, she said:

I don’t want to be my child’s best friend. I want to be a mom, But I do want my child to come to me when they have problems and need to talk, so it’s going to be about treading that line.

Dawn French, Lee Mack, Justin Lee Collins, Alan Carr… the list is endless.

Just thinking about them makes us want to round up every TV executive in a small room and hack the testicles off them that they haven’t even got in the first place.

And so the following is a list – in no particular order – of some of the most brilliant, unique, prime-time repellent and, therefore, largely anonymous comedians we’ve had the privilege to have never heard.

Read what we’ve got to say, watch and listen to what they have to say, fall in love and spread the word.

Doug Stanhope

For any of you who have ever thought ‘I wonder what Bill Hicks would say today if his pussy of a pancreas hadn’t of got all cancerous’ then what spews from Doug Stanhope’s gorgeously vitriolic mind is probably as close to an answer as you can get.

Not that he’s plagiarising the great man, not one bit. The topics are similar but the jokes and ideas have evolved and are all his own.

There are lots of people who will tell you that they don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of them and they’re almost always talking bollocks, but with Doug you get the impression he means it and it’s this unparalleled lack of shame that separates him far, far away from the rest.

Any of you who have Mary Whitehouse posters blutacked all over your walls then this video is definitely the one for you:

Daniel Kitson

Basically, to be fair, at the end of the day, when all is said and done, etc, and so on, et al, blah blah; what we all want from our entertainers – be they comedians, musicians, novelists or people who do drawings with their own blood and poo – is for them to make us feel less lonely in this bloody horrible world; nothing beats a warm cockle in the heart, and no comedian can warm a heart-cockle like Daniel Kitson.

Take a man like Russell Brand; as undeniably talented as he is, it’s hard to fully empathise with a man whose sole motivation behind every gag is ‘how can I continue to successfully seduce/manipulate this myriad of celebrity-worshipping girls into having sex with me?’

He’ll say anything, so long as it doesn’t disrupt this masterplan, and we’re sure he couldn’t care less (it’s hard to care too much about anything when you’ve got four bent over bottoms baying for your boy – so Stuart Heritage informs us) but it does go some way to stifling your comic potential.

Luckily for us though, Daniel Kitson is unfettered by such distractions, perhaps due to being a bifocalled-ginger with a stutter, and we love him all the more for it – no doubt you will too.

You may know him as Spencer off Phoenix Nights, but what you should know him for is being one of the best stand-up comedians in the world:

Tony Law

Tony Law is a man from Canada. As if that wasn’t funny enough, he also tells jokes. Never before has an accent and an occupation been so perfectly matched, apart from maybe Adolf Hitler.

Until now, absolutely nobody has heard of Tony Law apart from his mum and it’s about time that changed, because the man is a fucking colossus.

A safe word to describe his act would be surreal, although we’re sure there is a better one out there, we’re just buggered if we know what it is, the illiterate frauds that we are.

We’ll just let him speak for himself. Enjoy:

John Hegley

Poetry, as we all know, is for limp wristed, mum-bumming toffs who actually enjoyed reading Shakespeare at secondary school.

But we are all wrong! A few centuries after Shakespeare butchered the art-form, along came a man from Luton called John Hegley, who taught anybody who was bothered enough to listen that poetry can actually be brilliant.

Unfortunately there isn’t much in the way of John Hegley videos around this here internet place, so this grainy, out of sync offering’ll have to do. Otherwise you can click here for an old-fashioned read.

Stewart Lee

How dare we group Stewart Lee amongst a list of unknowns? To be honest, we feel quite ashamed of ourselves too, but it’s been over a decade since he and Richard Herring (who is still touring and at the top of his game – click here for the ultimate lesson in how to handle a heckler) lit up our TV screens with the likes of Fist of Fun and This Morning With Richard Not Judy and, aside from some hardcore fans and an equally hardcore group of right-wing Christian lobbies, nobody seems to know who the man is, and so any exposure is worth it – mankind can only benefit from having Stewart Lee’s wisdom up inside it.

A couple of years back he was ranked 41st in a Channel 4 poll of the best stand-up comedians of all time, which is about 40 positions too low as far as we’re concerned.

We’re not saying he’s Jesus, that’s for you to decide. Watch this and judge for yourselves:

Trouble is that this anodyne, office-based existence that we live in doesn’t give us much chance to be a hero. Once upon a time, when mankind roamed the jungles, we could have thrown ourselves into the lion’s path as it attacked our hunting companion from the rear, and our little tribal village would have put on a hell of a feast in our name.

Nowadays the most heroic thing most people do is offer someone a lift home after work. ‘You’re a life-saver!’ they tritely say, as they exit the car door, not even buying you a burger for the effort. And so in these dull, un-heroic times we turn to video games in a desperate attempt to fill the void.

In Negotiator, you play the part of a negotiator, who negotiates with a man (with a life probably quite similar to yours) who is standing on the edge of a roof-top, ready to end it all. Will you say the right thing and save his life, or will you be the final push? To be honest, either outcome is quite satisfying.

Play Negotiator

Sharon recently quit ITV1’s X Factor because of something about money. She wasn’t getting her cut of the phone-in vote or something (just joking Sharon). Whatever, she left them, and it doesn’t look like she’s going back.

But then again she’s no doubt said that to Ozzy a few dozen times over the years. And yet, no matter how big the betrayal, she still remains by his side.

The poor fella – as if being a human vibrator wasn’t enough to live with without that over-opinionated ear-ache hanging about the place.

Actually, that probably explains why she stays put – they don’t have sex anymore, Sharon just straddles one of Ozzy’s wrists and focuses on a picture of Rhydian until her gushing, squawking, tinitus-inducing climax.

So, yes, Sharon has left ITV and looks set to leave her panel show days behind her.

God, we give you our heartfelt thanks. You really do look after us when it comes down to it.

Next time though, if you wouldn’t mind awfully, would it be OK if, instead of sending her to another broadcaster, you just sent her to somewhere like hell, for example? Just a thought – not that we want to tell you how to do your job or anything! Haha! But seriously, think about it. If you want to haggle with purgatory then, you know, we’re open to that prospect.

Rumour has it that, should Sharon get with the Beeb, she will join the cast of Strictly Come Dancing and – now for the best news of the day – it won’t be as a panelist! Woo hoo! Just a measly contestant.

According to The Sun, a ‘pal’ revealed last night:

It would make one hell of a TV battle, so don’t be surprised to see her hitting the dancefloor. Sharon has not fallen out with Cowell, not in the slightest. It all comes down to two things — money and Dannii. At the moment, she’s filming America’s Got Talent for Cowell and she’s concentrating on her US TV projects. Early last year, Sharon was meant to appear in Dancing With The Stars, the US version of Strictly, but she had to pull out to have an operation. She’s always wanted to do it, so what better time to put on her dancing shoes and go up against the X Factor than when the shows start again in September?

Which one are you gonna watch: X-Factor or Strictly Come Dancing? You, like hecklerspray, are now wetting yourselves in anticipation. Has life ever been so exciting?

We just can’t decide and so, instead of watching either of them, we’re just gonna throw our TVs out the window and literally do something else more interesting.

This is weird. I’m not sure I’m very comfortable with writing in a first-person narrative anymore. You see, writing for hecklerspray this past six or seven months has made me lose all sense of individuality. The concept of ‘I’ is totally alien to me now.

I can barely remember the man I used to be. Once I had passed the strict audition process I was led into a dark room by one of Lord Heritage’s henchman who sat me down and cuffed me to a chair. Then, after pinning my eyelids back, he turned a projector on.

I’m told that before I joined hecklerspray I was an avid fan of Paris Hilton and that I used to wax lyrical about the genius musicianship of Ricky Wilson. Lord Heritage wasn’t happy about this, understandably, but he had spotted promise in my writing and had faith in me, and so it was that I was forced to sit through a week long video montage of Paris Hilton’s face, cut up to the tune of ‘Ruby’.

Suffice to say, come the end of the week, I was enlightened. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Lord Heritage appeared. The way he smiled at me…I have no words. You had to be there. He released me from the chair and put some drops in my frazzled eyes, then kissed me on the cheek before saying “I am your friend. I am your friend”.

He congratulated me on my progress before getting me to sign some legally-binding contracts that divorced me from my family and married me to hecklerspray. I was told I could never see my mum or dad again.

Mum, Dad… if you’re reading this, I’d like to let you know that I’m fine. He feeds me every day. I’m not allowed to see the sun anymore, but he describes it to me in great detail. Do not weep for me; I am in better hands now.

And so, here we are, six or seven months later, and I have reached level five of the induction process, which basically means I am now allowed fiber in my diet but, more importantly, that Stuart can afford to go on a well-deserved two week holiday safe in the knowledge that his website is in trustworthy hands.

And, after all that, I’m only here for today, before passing the reigns to the equally well-groomed Shawn Lindseth (seventh in line to the throne of the Swazi Royal Family, don’t you know?) and the always gorgeous Ian Dransfield, both of whom will be carrying you through this Heritageless fortnight.

It’ll be fine!

Oh, who am I kidding? I miss him already. Come back Stu! What have you done? I’m not ready for this responsiblity yet! What the fuck do all these buttons do? I can’t remember a thing you’ve taught me.

Mum, Dad…your baby’s coming home!

Spike was upset that the African-American contingent didn’t seem to get any acknowledgement whatsoever from Clint, and he spoke up at the Cannes Film Festival in May.

He said:

Clint Eastwood made two films about Iwo Jima that ran for more than four hours total, and there was not one Negro actor on the screen. If you reporters had any balls you’d ask him why. But I know it was pointed out to him and that he could have changed it. It’s not like he didn’t know…

To which Clint Eastwood replied:

A guy like that should shut his face.

A guy like what exactly? Like a black man? Or like a scrawny-faced owl man? We just don’t know. What we do know is that this town aint big enough for the both of ‘em. Yee-haw!

As far as hecklerspray is concerned, the bigger crime here is on the white soldiers who were included in the films, as Clint managed to make their own stories about as emotionally stimulating as sitting through a Paris Hilton album from start to finish.

But anyway, Spike Lee has responded to Clint’s comment. He told ABC News:

First of all, the man is not my father and we’re not on a plantation. The thing about it though, I didn’t personally attack him. And a comment like ‘a guy like that should shut his face’ – come on Clint, come on. He sounds like an angry, old man right there. It’s just that there’s not one black in either film. And because I know my history, that’s why I made that observation.

Lee is currently in the midst of post-production on his own WWII epic, Miracle as St. Anna, which, according to IMDB.com, ‘chronicles the story of four black American soldiers who are members of the US Army as part of the all-black 92nd Buffalo Soldier Division stationed in Tuscany, Italy, during World War II’.

Did we read that correctly; the ‘all-black’ division? Not even a token white boy to occasionally nerd up proceedings with his embarrassing dancing? Outrageous.

Spike furthered:

Many veterans, African-Americans, who survived that war are upset at Clint Eastwood. In his vision of Iwo Jima, Negro soldiers did not exist. Simple as that. I have a different version.

Clint was initially reluctant to respond to Spike’s remarks, but eventually told the Guardian:

The story is ‘Flags of Our Fathers,’ the famous flag-raising picture. If I go ahead and put an African-American actor in there, people’d go, ‘This guy’s lost his mind.’ I mean, it’s not accurate.

Anybody know any war historians to clear this up?

As it currently stands, Spike has had the last word, and here it is:

Even though he’s trying to have a Dirty Harry flashback, I’m going to take the Obama high road and end it right here.

It’s a typical (Bobby Brown-like) boy meets (Lindsay Lohan-like) girl story: They meet at a party. They both think ‘ooh, he/she’s fit’. Boy goes to the toilet for a piss. Girl, perhaps aroused by the potential to orgasm while simultaneously inhaling men’s stale urine, follows him in. They have sex. They are now primed to have their first conversation:

Lindsay: Pass us some tissue. Cheers. So, what’s your name and what do you do?

Brandon: My name’s Brandon. My official job title is ’son’. And you?

Lindsay: My name’s Lindsay. I was in a film once and became a celebrity – I played a squeaky clean sweetheart who became an icon for youngsters. Now I do things like toilet sex.

Brandon: We’re both quite dull and expendable in the grand scheme of things.

Lindsay: Yep. I wish I was doing something more worthwhile, like writing about the crap people like me and you get up to for a living.

And so boy realises girl’s personality is like Lindsay Lohan’s. Girl realises boy’s personality is a lot like Bobby Brown’s – relationship ends.

Little is known about Brandon Brown, aside from the fact that he carries half of the ‘Two can play that game’ maestro’s genetics. However, from this we can scientifically deduce that he is at least 50% bell end.

The reported seduction took place in a West Hollywood nightclub two years ago. Brandon Brown told The Sun:

Me and Lindsay got really, really close. She followed me to the bathroom during a private party, and, well, we basically got together. I think she knew who I was when she first saw me. We were just staring at each other and she walked by. I walked into the bathroom and she followed me in.

And who said romance was dead? But, Brandon, how on earth did this Romeo and Juliet story end? He continued:

It didn’t end badly, but it did end weird. I’m actually trying to get back in touch with her – really soon.

Weirdly. It ended weirdly.

Good story.

We are told global warming is going to drown us, terrorists are going to blow us up and Paris Hilton is going to have a baby – it’s all too much.

The human body hasn’t evolved the capacity to deal with such misery, and so it seems that mass suicide is the only reasonable option.

But wait! Put down your nooses, brothers and sisters! Kick off those high heels, rip off those fish nets and spit that orange to the floor, because it would appear that Paris Hilton aint pregnant after all!

Yeah, we’re still gonna drown and be blown up, but really, who cares?

The showbiz world bust a nut recently when it was reported aris Hilton’s belly had expanded to the size of a less malnourished girl’s. There seemed to be two options:

1) She ate something

2) She was pregnant

Naturally, everyone thought she was pregnant. On first hearing the news, one reliable source spoke for us all when he told Hecklerspray:

Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! Fuck. Oh, just fuck it all, I mean, seriously, bollocks to it! Shit, you know? Jesus Christ.

But a source who witnessed Paris Hilton on Friday night, dancing, drinking champagne and smoking cigarettes at Tao nightclub in Las Vegas, where she was filming her MTV reality show, Paris Hilton’s My New BFF, said that it’s clear the she isn’t pregnant at all:

She’s clearly not pregnant.

See?

You’re probably thinking what we’re thinking, and what we’re thinking is this: It is quite easy to envisage Paris Hilton drinking and smoking while pregnant, just as it is quite easy to imagine her saying ‘my mum smoke and drank while she was pregnant with me, and look how I turned out!’

On the other hand, it’s also quite easy to imagine that, if Paris was to ever have an abortion, this is how she would go about celebrating it. And who could blame her? That’s one Paris Hilton party that Hecklerspray would be delighted to join in on.

We’d turn up early, be vomiting over the karaoke machine before the clock struck 7pm, before belting out the best rendition of KC and the Sunshine Band that we could muster. Come on!

But still, rather than throw your nooses away, probably best just store them in the cupboard for a while, you know, to be on the safe side.

Chris, currently touring his ‘No Apologies’ show around South Africa, was the butt of a US reality TV show prank.

You ask: what was said prank? Well, he he, get this! God, we’re laughing just typing it down! Right, this TV show (which no one seems to know the name of) made accusations that Chris Rock has, wait for it… had sex with an underage British girl – when he hasn’t! Ahahahahahaha!

Genius! And yet, for some reason, Chris Rock didn’t find being accused of statuatory rape funny in the slightest. The bloody square.

Back in his 2005 HBO special, ‘Never Scared’, Chris said of R Kelly (in reference to the video at the centre of R Kelly’s current underage watersport trial):

R Kelly’s lost his mind. He gotta lotta balls saying ‘it aint me’. Motherfucker, we know what you look like!…At one point on the tape R Kelly is eating this girls ass out like it’s puppy chow. He’s in her ass like he’s got diabetes and her ass’ got insulin in it.

Oh, he can dish it out, for sure, but can he take it? The answer seems to be ‘no’. Not so funny when the jokes on you, eh, Christopher?

Chris, to be fair, has a strong defence, in as far as the whole thing is fictional, which will no doubt be R Kelly’s next attempt to clear his name:

A cast member of the anonymous show appeared in court on Monday demanding Rock be taken into custody, but the judge refused on the grounds that Rock could not be arrested or detained without a proper warrant.

Honestly, a TV show can’t even accuse an innocent black man of rape anymore!

After hearing the rumours, Chris immediately sought clarification on the charges he so foolishly believed had actually been brought against him.

Tlali Tlali, a National Prosecuting Authority spokesman, told AFP:

It was a hoax, it was for one of the US reality television programmes. They pulled one on him, information got to him that the South African Police Service was going to arrest him. Acting on that information, he quickly approached lawyers who brought an urgent application at the Johannesburg High Court ,where judgement was in his favour. This one went too far, it must have been organised quite carefully.

Now, this makes him a prick for a number of reasons:

1) It’s obviously bull-shit.

2) Who does he mean when he says ‘most music fans’? Have you ever met anyone who isn’t a fan of music? Everyone who ever existed is a fan of music and hecklerspray knows a few of them: not one has ever claimed Kaiser Chiefs are the successors of Oasis. Only Ricky.

3) He’s obviously only doing it in the vain hope that Noel will retaliate, on the off-chance it could turn into a war like the Blur/Oasis feud of old, like he tried to start with the Arctic Monkeys, which of course failed spectacularly, what with Kaiser Chiefs not being fit to lick either of their comparatively Messianic assholes.

What Ricky should try is starting a war with that Johnny Borrell fella. It’d be a far fairer playing field; the prick-to-prick ratio would be much better balanced.

From the deep, dark depths of his own anus, Ricky Wilson spoke to The Sun:

Oasis have disappeared up their own arse. They think they are Led Zeppelin. They’re not.

Err…Led Zeppelin? What? Yes, it could be argued that Led Zeppelin have made the voyage up their own rectum from time to time, but they did write Stairway to Heaven, and were also capable of writing a song that wasn’t verse, chorus, verse, bridge, chorus, end.

They are therefore entitled to the occasional holiday up their arses.

Oasis too, it’s true, have on occasion made trips up their own jacksies, as all who can remember All Around The World will testify. But, dear Ricky, they did write Live Forever and, although living forever is a horrifying prospect, especially with the prospect of you clogging up the airwaves of eternity, it does qualify them for a visit.

You, however, wrote Ruby, and the only asshole you would do well to visit is hecklerspray’s, as our shit will rub sense into anyone.

Anyway, that’s enough arsehole talk for one post. Ricky Wilson added (brackets added by us, obviously):

Our new album is shaping up. I reckon it’s our best stuff yet (no huge achievement). I played it to our manager the other day, who has known us for over ten years (ten years! Wow! So what?), and a smile just spread across his face as soon as he heard it (the morons will lap up this, cha-ching!). He reckons that it’s the best material we have come up with. It isn’t finished but, in my mind, I know exactly where the vocals are going now and how it will sound (not hard to predict). Mark Ronson is producing the album (Mark Ronson! Fuckadoodledoo! Can Kaiser Chiefs be saved by the inclusion of a trumpet? No). He turned down a lot of people to work with us — a lot of big names, who I won’t mention (so modest of you Ricky). When he does that to work with us, we must be doing something well.

Yes, despite everything you do seem to sell a lot of records. The world, we are afraid, is designed for crashing bores.

Basically the point we’re trying to make is that this guy is twat.

Thanks for reading.

Read More – Kaiser Chiefs Ricky Wilson: ‘Oasis have disappeared up their own arse’ – NME

True, this is perhaps the 27th time he personally has sparked the rumours of Blur reuniting.

And, true, it’ll almost certainly be as fruitless as the rest of them. But still, anything to make people realise the Kaiser Chiefs are nothing but an insulting pretender to their throne is worth commenting on.

It’s been five years since they released Think Tank; a kind of ‘half-good, half-wanky’ take on modern culture (a feeling encapsulated perfectly by the usage of a Banksy painting on the front cover – the King of ‘half-good, half-wanky’). Since then the Blur boys have all taken their own unique paths.

Lead guitarist Graham Coxon – one of the greatest guitar players in the world (how will the hecklerspray massive react to that statement we wonder?) was the first to leave the band. He featured on just one track of Think Tank before realising that the studio walls weren’t big enough to hold his talent and Damon’s ego.

And we can only thank baby Jesus for that, for he has since gone on to become the finest solo-artist in the country (think differently do ya? Well bring it on. And if any of you so much as think of challenging that with Paolo Nutini, then prepare for the wrath of hecklerspray).

Damon Albarn, the self-confessed overlord of creativity, has, among other things, made an album in Mali with a bunch of Malinese musicians, which was lovely.

He has furthered his work with Gorillaz and announced himself to be a communist – something that finally explains the collaboration with Ken Livingstone in The Great Escape on the track Old Arnold Same.

No wonder Oasis won.

Damon’s latest project was to make a Chinese opera with the Gorillaz, which he composed via some interesting yet half-wanky thinking. He said:

I created a mathematical system that guaranteed I wouldn’t be able to use any of my western melodic ideas. I came up with this system based on a series of numbers that relate to the five pointed star of the Communist party. Then there is a fight scene based on a 15 point star system. You rotate the numbers on the star and put in different keys

A genius, or a wanker? You decide.

Dave Rowntree, the drummer, was famous for having literally no personality. He has since gone on to become a Labour MP.

And Alex James has become a farmer who, as previously stated, makes his own cheese, writes about life in the countryside endlessly, telling stories about hanging out with flocks of sheep and Jeremy Clarkson.

Little wonder then that his voice is the most often heard in regards to a reunion.

Damon recently dismissed the idea of a Blur reunion, because none of them need the money, but Alex aint so sure. According to the Evening Echo, he said:

We’re all pretty busy, but I’d be surprised if it never happens, but I would be terrified if it was happening on Monday.

Sunday, Sunday, here again, a walk in the farm, you speak to Jeremy Clarkson and you make some cheese, you dream of Blur reuniting, cos the life you’ve made is depressing, to gather the band around the table, and have another go, fuck those Sunday sheeeeep.

Yeah, it may turn out they’re half as good as before, but half as good as old Blur is twice as good as new Kaiser Chiefs and as far as the youth of today are concerned all we used to listen to was the Spice Girls and Take That.

Come back and show them there was more.

Read More – James Hints at Blur reunion – Evening Echo

It seems she is now target number one for the lenses of the world’s paparazzi – a section of humanity that, had they been sent to Auschwitz instead of the Jews, would have met no resistance from the rest of the world and we may well have let the Nazi’s keep Poland as a gift.

The LA Times has reported that a photo of Miley Cyrus’ first kiss could be worth anything from $30,000 to $150,000.

Hecklerspray hasn’t quite got the same budget as the LA Times, but if you happen to get a pic of Miley’s first kiss then in return we’ll give you a tenner and an evening with Matthew Laidlow. He’ll even have a wash and take you to the nearest kebab shop he can find.

Frank Griffin of the Bauer-Griffin paparazzi agency has said this:

She’s much more attractive than Britney Spears, it’s much more of a success story. [Consumers] want to see success. They don’t want to see failure. If someone famous falls on their face, you have to report it . . . but Miley is going to steal all of Britney’s thunder. Kids want to see her. They don’t want to see ripped fishnets and fear and mascara-streaked cheeks.

Kids are lame, aren’t they? If anyone does manage to get a pic of Miley in ripped fishnets and fear though (don’t bother taking it to Frank ‘King of the stalkers’ Griffin, as he clearly doesn’t want it) we’ll up the anti to twenty quid and Laidlow will bring along his ‘toolkit’ – as he refers to it.

More news people have commented too, like CEO of Splash News, Gary Morgan:

I think one of the reasons she’s so popular is after all the train wreck girls, the Britneys, there’s a move toward all-American clean living. Everyone is looking for a moral teenager, someone they can look up to.

A moral teenager? Have we not forgotten the whole back incident? Or the outrageous slut-fest she gave at the Disney Games? And anyway, Miley looks up to the Britneys and Lohans of this world, so anyone looking up to Miley is still, by effect, looking up to them. Has this man never seen Girls Gone Wild? Surely that is the most up-to-date and accurate portrayal of how American girls want to be? Cheap sex is what it’s all about now, Gazza, what are you, over 30 or something?

François Navarre, proprietor of the X17 photo agency, say this:

She’s started to sell more. Now the pictures are going for a higher price. It used to be $300 for a shot, and now it’s $2,000 for a picture. It has to be a nice picture. I have a couple of guys working on her. It’s not like Britney, where we have 24/7 coverage, but we are watching her. If she goes out of town, we try to follow her.

Reading a statement like that is a lot like watching an episode of Sex in the City, in as much as you’re left with the warming feeling of ‘at least I’m not as shallow as that’ – François makes hecklerspray feel moral, and that is nothing to be proud of.

Seriously, shouldn’t this be illegal?

We are watching her.

We try to follow her.

If a regular guy did and said such things they’d be imprisoned for years and fined accordingly, but put a camera in his hand and call it a profession and suddenly you’ve $150,000 dollars in your back pocket, enough to bail you out of a lifetimes worth of intrusive behaviour.

Still, that’s the American dream these days. 40 acres and a mule became extinct a long, long time ago and Frank, Gary and François are no doubt exceedingly grateful for that.

Seriously though, twenty quid for those ripped fish-net shots.

Read More – Photo Of Miley Cyrus First Kiss Worth $150,000? – Fn’ Famous

The only decent look inside her that we have had so far taught us little more than the fact that a vagina should really only be viewed in the cordial context of the bedroom, otherwise they can look quite menacing and no matter how hard you look at it, this particular insight was not quite wide enough to see through to her inner-soul.

But those days of mystery are now behind us, because Christa D’Souza of The Sunday Times has given Lindsay the interview of her life. We double dare you to not read on.

So then guys, is Lindsay Lohan engaged to DJ Samantha Ronson? Is Lindsay Lohan a lesbian? Will she ever finally disappear? Christa D’Souza doesn’t find out any of this, which begs the question: What is the point of Christa D’Souza?

Instead, Christa D’Souza asks things like: what address-book cover do you have? to which Lindsay replies: Smythson. I love Smythson.

See what we mean about insights? One minute you know nothing about a person and the next minute along comes Christa D’Souza and suddenly you learn not only what kind of address book cover the person has, but also that address-book covers exist. The truth shall set you free, so lets have some more:

Christa D’Souza asks: What is your favourite designer label? Lindsay Lohan says: Balenciaga. Hecklerspray wonders: who could possibly give a shit?

Christa D’Souza asks: But what about Dolce and Gabbana? Lindsay Lohan says: Omigod, they’re such good people to be around, And the way their dresses fit. If I get married, I would definitely want them to do the gown. Hecklerspray wonders: Is this why Paul Scholes never does post-match interviews; because he has nothing of any interest to say? A lot of you ask: Who is this Paul Scholes and why do you keep using him in reference to Lindsay Lohan? Hecklerspray says: Fair point.

The interview takes place in the outdoor café of a photo studio off Melrose Avenue in – coolest city in the world – Los Angeles. Lindsay is with a small entourage, which includes a chap named Lorit, who is Lindsay’s ‘personal spray-tanner’.

There are no words.

At one point Christa D’Souza actually says:

Let us not forget one small fact. Lohan can actually act, as anybody who saw her in The Parent Trap, Mean Girls, Freaky Friday or even the widely panned Georgia Rule, would surely have to agree.

We know. We know. The world is fucking weird. To which Lindsay replies, no doubt shocked out of her skull:

Well, thank you, that’s nice, because that’s what I do: I act. That’s what I’ve done since I was seven. People seem to lose sight of that. They skim over it, they’re more interested in seeing a picture of me slipping in the rain, which I did last night, and someone got a picture . . .(at his point Lindsay gets distracted and turns to her friend, Jeni) Are you going to have some cheesecake? Ya are? Okay, gimme some too. But with just a little whipped cream, okay?

Yep, that made it into the interview. If you are interested in more stuff like this than either follow the link below or find the nearest rifle, pretend you are Lindsay Lohan and the barrel is Callum Best’s dirty-fudgestick, apologise to God for being a moron and plaster the walls around you with your useless brain/skull juice.

Read More – Lindsay Lohan talks about her troubled life – The Sunday Times

Three cheers for Woody Allen and his much maligned interest in younger women!

The news should finally shut up all the player-haters out there – you know who you are! The ones of you who thought it ‘weird’ for a man to show a sexual interest in his own adopted daughter.

Well you can now jump off your high horses because, like World War 2 before, the ends always justify the means and the sight of Scarlett and Penelope lezzin’ off is no doubt a joyful scene.

The on-screen lezathon is being credited with reviving the career of the sputtering genius filmmaker, whose film received a ten minute standing ovation, which is a weird amount of time to clap for anything, but well done.

According to OK! Magazine, one critic said of the scene:

It woke up all the dopey critics and practically got a standing ovation.

The film, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, is a romantic comedy wherein Cruz’s character meets Scarlett’s character in Barcelona, things happen, they lezz off, more things happen, and it ends.

The film also stars Penelope Cruz’s real-life boyfriend, Javier Bardem, who plays a character in the film that gets caught up in the plot somehow, doesn’t matter.

The scene was apparently intended by Woody to be his most erotic scene to date, and that’s something, as only Cliff Richard, Bill Cosby, Bruce Forsyth and Dennis Norden have stayed in their respective games longer.

Woody Allen said:

I want people to see the romance, and I wanted some laughs. I wanted to see two young women who go to Barcelona…and gradually things start to disintegrate [lezz off].

‘Disintegrate’ eh? Is that how today’s old people are referring to it, hmm? What happened to a good, old-fashioned lemonfest? They’re a morbid bunch, aren’t they?

Yes, they are. It’s largely because they’ll be dead soon and as we have no idea what that’s like lets pity them and let them have their own slang, lets even incorporate it into our own speech, as a way of saying: Well done old people! Despite the appalling strain you put on society you’re quite like us youngsters in many ways, what with the way you like watching girls kiss and stuff, so with that in mind thanks for everything!

Because we too literally cannot wait to see Scarlett disintegrate all over Penelope Cruz’s face, and it’s OK if you can’t wait too.

Viva la dirty, old bastard!

Read More – Lesbian Kiss Saves Woody, OK! Magazine