Chris Brown. What’s he going to be remembered for? Selling a load of lousy records? His pastel coloured blazers? Of course not. He’ll forever be remembered as the man that punched ten-shades out of Rihanna.

As yet, Breezy has failed to say anything approaching ‘sorry’ for the attack and, indeed, preferred to ‘forgive his enemies’ who keep bringing it up, like its our fault he thwacked his bony knuckles against RiRi’s skull repeatedly.

And thanks to him failing to show any kind of remorse, he’s been told that he must remain on probation. That’s not stopped the Grammies from booking him though. We can only hope for another ‘shirt-off, chair through a window’ episode, eh?

A judge in LA said that Brown should continue to report to an official in Virginia. If his actions are no longer criminal, his awful, awful records are worthy of official investigation all the same.

Despite the fact that Brown was sentenced to 180 hours community service and five years probation, which has been extended, he’ll still be appearing at this weekend’s Grammy show in LA… ALONGSIDE RIHANNA!

Hurray!

This has come about after a judge relaxed the restraining order that banned Brown from contacting Rihanna or getting within 10 yards of her. Basically, the judge wanted to ensure that Rihanna was just out of arm’s reach.

Rumours abound that Brown and Rihanna are something of an item again, which with any luck, will be career suicide for the pair of them. Seriously. We’re sick of the sight of either of them to be perfectly frank. However, such is the blind devotion of Team Breezy (that’s the self-appointed collective name for those ditheringly stupid enough to call themselves fans of ol’ Fisty McPunchy), it looks like he’s going to hang around a good while yet.

Also performing at this year’s Grammys are Paul McCartney, Adele, Nicki Minaj, Bruno Mars, Katy Perry, Coldplay, Foo Fighters and Taylor Swift.

Jesus wept.

Awards ceremonies are pointless, unless you win something at one of them. Then they’re the best thing ever for all of around 5 seconds (basically, ’til the free bar is closed). So should we get worked up about them? 

OF COURSE WE SHOULD! These junkets are there to be mocked mercilessly. They are arbiters of taste and all that is deemed good, so everyone should gather round them and poke them with as many pointed sticks as they can get their awful, grubby little hands on.

So you’ll be thrilled to know that a bunch of musicians are going to hold a protest outside Sunday’s Grammy Awards ceremony over a decision to unceremoniously axe 31 ‘ethnic and minority musical categories’ from the bash.

Now, we’re not saying that the Grammies are racist at all. However, this protest seems to be implying that is what’s going on here. Organisers of the protest are hoping that fans and artists around the world of Latin jazz, gospel and blues will join in and attend an alternative concert.

23,000 people have already signed a petition which demands that the Recording Academy reinstate Grammy awards for Native American and Hawaiian music, and reverse cuts in categories for Latin Jazz, Gospel, R&B and Blues that were axed in a seemingly pointless overhaul last year.

And some famous people have signed up too! Paul Simon, Carlos Santana, Bonnie Raitt and Bobby Sanabria are among those that aren’t happy with the cuts.

Spokesman Robert Sax (great name, lad) said that the protest would be held outside the Staples Center in LA before everyone tootles off for the Not Those Awards All-Star Latin Jazz Jam at a Los Angeles nightclub.

Jazz artist, Matos, says:

“We are holding this concert to remind music fans about all the great music that has been eliminated from the Grammys. To paraphrase what Frank Sinatra said at the first Grammy Awards in 1959, ‘Remember, the awards are about excellence, not popularity.’”

And who leads the pack at the Grammies? Well, Kanye West has seven nominations and Bruno Mars has a bunch too. Rihanna will also be performing, which really drives a nail into the coffin of the argument that the Grammies are a bit racist.

Oh well.

At least the cocaine dealers will be having a good time in the run-up to it.

Worrying reports are beginning to reach the hecklerspray news desk of spontaneous combustion among children. 

Reports so far are sketchy but it is thought that the exact demographic affected is girls & boys between the ages of 11 & 17. Parents are being advised to keep their children away from the internet for the foreseeable future to limit the risk of catastrophic explosion.

Experts have warning that if the spread of these fiery paroxysms isn’t stemmed immediately, it could lead to a cataclysmic chain reaction that could- if predictions are accurate- wipe out all human life on the planet, leaving Earth in the paws of Dormice.

Epidemiologists are hard at work trying to establish the root cause of the problem but rumours circulating on the internet suggest this may be the beginning of a phenomenon known as “Biebergeddon“- the destruction of life as we know it, directly proportional to the actions of Canadian pop singer Justin Bieber.

The exact “flash point” of this mysterious outbreak is unknown but our exclusive hecklerspray source has suggested that it relates to a crossover in fandoms between former Ellen Degeneres lookalike Bieber and UK boy band The Wanted. It is thought that Bieber’s acknowledgement of The Wanted on Twitter has sparked this epidemic of spontaneous combustion which is currently spreading across Britain and the United States of America, with many more countries likely to fall within the next two to three hours.

The offending tweet is reproduced below. It has been censored in case any teenagers happen upon it. Should any responsible adults wish to see the full tweet, an unedited version is available by clicking on the image.

Suggestions that the condition was exacerbated by Wanted member Tom Parker‘s response, suggesting that the two acts might actually be “bros” and therefore, in the modern vernacular, “friends”. This is allegedly responsible for up to 25% of the erroneous blow-outs.

Current government advice suggests that all children who fall within the demographic should be wrapped in fireproof blankets to prevent the spread of fire and should be quarantined in an area free of a broadband connection.

Parents are reminded of the potential dangers of so-called “smart” mobile phones which are able to grant access to the internet. A US/UK government task force is currently deploying quarantine units in the centre of all major cities, where laptops, tablets and phones can be deposited for safe-keeping.

So far, the UN has stopped short of declaring a State of Emergency and the British Medical Association & World Health Organisation have both moved to deny the existence of Biebergeddon, suggesting that the heightened state of alert is a result of tabloid scaremongering and that the actual numbers of spontaneous combustions are in the tens rather than the hundreds of thousands, as reported by major news organisations.

To all citizens of the world we say only this: stay safe out there & All Hail Our Dormice Overlords!

Lana Del Rey has had her whole adult life and creative outlets bankrolled by her insanely wealthy father and, at various points nearly gave it all up because she had to actually work a little to get anywhere. However, thickos on the internet came to the rescue and made her an overnight sensation!

Things were all going to (a carefully executed by a PR company) plan as she readied her new album! She was going to become a superstar! The golden goose had actually delivered!

The key cog would be a performance on Saturday Night Live! Lana would sing, everyone would swoon and rush out to buy her album, learn all the hackneyed lyrics and eagerly await the tour announcement. She opened her mouth to her largest audience yet and… oh dear… she ended up sounding like a cow in labour. The plan was ruined.

And so, the tour which Del Rey was supposed to do has been postponed, thanks to everyone finding out she can’t sing at all.

Her dreadful, near lifeless performance on SNL is squarely being blamed.

Next month, the Video Games singer was supposed to kick off a 30-date tour across America, but alas, thanks to revealing to all that she croons like a whale with it’s dick in a vice, she’s thought it best to call the whole thing off and book some singing lessons, stat.

A source tells the New York Post gossip column Page Six:

“(Lana) and her manager decided to cancel (the tour) after SNL. She was very upset. They figure it allows time for her to clear her head, then go back to selling tickets. More importantly, they figure the extra time gives them more distance from SNL.”

Of course, THAT SNL PERFORMANCE has already been sent-up by Kristen Wiig (see it here) which, well, almost sticks-up for the tuneless, preening Del Rey, but either way, what happens now is that the singer will now go away, work on her vocals and come-to-bed-eyes while her management rethinks the live shows and the entire trajectory of her impossibly orchestrated career.

God, this’ll be tedious.

Okay. Credit where credit is due: Madonna’s halftime show at the Super Bowl was pretty brilliant. That’s even taking into account that LMFAO showed up and the always disappointing MIA flipped the bird in an attempt to show her terrible hipster fans that she hadn’t ‘sold out’.

And so, if the Super Bowl show was anything to go by, Madge’s announcement that she will be going on a tour of the world should be met with some excitement.

Provided of course, her new LP (dubbed ‘MDNA’) isn’t a gigantic brown trout of a release.

Madge will go on tour from May, starting in Israel (can’t see her causing loads of trouble there) before moving on to Europe, with legs in South America and Australia, where she has not performed for 20 years.

The 2012 World Tour will be the first jaunt for someone we’re legally obliged to call ‘Material Girl’ at least once in this article since her “Sticky & Sweet Tour” in 2008/9. She’ll be stopping off in cities including London, Edinburgh, Paris, Milan, Abu Dhabi and Berlin.

The tour starts on May 29th in Tel Aviv, then buggers off to Abu Dhabi and Istanbul in early June. Then, she’ll take her circus to Europe, which concludes on August 21st in Nice, France.

The North American, South American and Australian legs don’t have dates yet, so stop stomping your feet and whinging about it. She just likes the Middle East and Europe best, okay?

Either way, if her new album turns out to be a howler, at least she’s got a very impressive back-catalogue to lean on.

Failing that, she can just hire a young popstar to come on-stage with her and make a vaguely rude hand gesture or, better yet, she can try and outdo her Britney-kiss and have full-on, fisting sex with Adele or something.

And who wouldn’t want to see that?

Spice Girls fans! Rejoice in your wasted lives because it seems like the Spice Girls are coming back! …Again.

Former Spicer Geri Halliwell, famous for such solo hits as ‘Mi Perro Latino’, about a latin dog and the one where she was dead in the video, has claimed that the Spice Girls could be due for another money-spinning reunion.

Actually, that’s totally unfair. While most groups end up reuniting out of a love of crack cocaine and cold hard cash, the Spice Girls appear to be coming out of retirement to celebrate the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.

Anyone who is sitting there doubting the girls’ credentials as the biggest royalists of the last 20 years need only cast their minds back to Ginger Spice’s Union Jack dress which showcased not only her strong feelings for the royal family but also her love of crotchless underwear.

Not to mention the fact that Mel B had sex with Prince Andrew. Not to mention it- of course- because it never happened. However, Mel B did manage to let the cat out of the bag about their plans for the Jubilee. The Jenny Craig spokeswoman and Eddie Murphy career ender told the press:

“Well, we do have the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee coming up. Did I really say that?”

Yes, you did. You know you did, you publicity hungry person, you.

Still, this prompted a flurry of excitable activity in the tabloids who began circling around Spice Girls like sharks or Simon Fuller. Ex-Ginger Geri told the Sunday Mirror’s phone hacking department:

“We did get the offer and it is exciting. Obviously we are a band and it’s a collective decision that has to be made as a band. We need to all be in the same place with it and we have to take into account all of our lives. We wouldn’t do it without all five of us. I do feel it’s an incredible honour and privilege. Performing at Buckingham Palace for the Queen – it doesn’t get bigger than that.”

So far, the plans for the Jubilee have not been revealed but it thought that the Queen is looking forward to five former pop stars strutting around, shoving their pelvises in her face. It’ll be like the time she met the Rolling Stones and had it off with Mick Jagger.

Nicki Minaj is a woman on a mission. Her mission is to become the most gifted, yet irritatingly wasteful popstar who ever lived. Her guest-raps have been a thing of wonderful, but when it comes to her own back-catalogue, she’s determined to make the most annoying pop music ever made.

Seriously. She’s taken Daphne & Celeste’s blueprint and cracked it to 11 and added some push-up bras and kooky wigs.

And now, her latest offering – ‘Stupid Hoe’ – is getting banned by everyone because it is so very, very grating. Fancy a listen? Click over…

The video for ‘Stupid Hoe’ (or ‘Stupid Stupid’ if you’re listening to the edited, radio-friendly version) is the usual bubblegum Grace Jones schtick, with Minaj batting her eyelashes like a prom queen, as well as the typical post-GaGa ‘unusual make-up’ thing.

So far, so Minaj-by-numbers.

However, the song itself lacks the synth-wizz that adorns 99% of pop-tracks currently. Instead, she’s gone for a sparse drum-machine, basskick number, complete with a ‘woopwoop’ noise that is more irritating that a thousand toddlers vying for your attention.

Essentially, listening to a Nicki Minaj record allows you to feel the unswerving anguish of being a teacher at a kindergarten.

And so, forget all that obvious talent she’s got and get your ears round this. You may titter at some of her lyrics (especially those concerning Roman Polanski and Michael Jackson), but alas, you may never even get to them as you hack at your ears with a stapler in a bid to make it all end.

LUCKY YOU! ENJOY! ETC!

You’re familiar with Drake already, aren’t you? Of course you are. You’re totally down with the kids. Well, he’s spent the weekend proving that even people with watch collections have hopes and dreams.

Not content with selling loads of records to over-protective hip-hop fans, Drake is apparently itching to play US President Barack Obama in a movie. It’s the next logical step for a star whose previous acting experience includes, “Guy In Bathroom Mirror” and “Crymaxing On A Webcam”.

The noted Thespian – who collaborated with Rihanna on ‘What’s My Name’, in case you’re still not sure who he is – has revealed that he studies Obama’s mannerisms in case a role comes his way. Which it never will. Ever.

Of course, Drake isn’t the first singer to say that they want to play a famous person in a film. In 2005 Michael Bublé told The Sun that he was in talks to play a member of the Rat Pack in “Frank Sinatra: The Primark Years” while more recently, Lady Gaga told assembled journalists that it was her life’s ambition to play Madonna in a movie of her life.

Speaking to VH1, Drake said:

“I hope somebody makes a movie about Obama’s life soon because I could play him. That’s the goal. I watch all the addresses. Any time I seen him on TV, I don’t change the channel. I definitely pay attention and listen to the inflections of his voice.”

Let’s get the inflections right before we look at anything else. The rapper, known for tracks such as Take Care and Over, is so dedicated to becoming an Obama impersonator that he’s willing to take the advice of professionals.

“If you ask anyone who knows me, I’m pretty good at impressions.”

There’s your first mistake, Drake. Any idiot knows that you don’t ask people who know you if you’re good at something. How do you think we all ended up as writers, living in a hovel and eating our own shoes for sustenance? Exactly.

When you’re in a position of note, it’s easy to get carried away and become an egotistical crack-shack. One need only look at Sting’s self-satisfied fizzog to see exactly what we mean.

Not everybody has it so easy once they’ve been elevated to a “status” – especially one they might not want. Who are we talking about? Why it’s none other than ol’ safe hands himself, ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray. The man that, in the eyes of Michael Jackson fans, makes Harold Shipman look like a competent medical professional.

There’s a very good reason that whilst you’re reading this, Dr. Conrad Murray is being held in a prison somewhere. He was tried and convicted of manslaughter. Tsk tsk. Still, he’s looking forward to some time away from a depressing concrete cell. If he gets his way, you might be able to see him sooner rather than later!

Any medical textbook will tell you that if you give someone a bucket-load of industrial strength medication, it probably won’t make you feel overly chirpy in the morning. Then again, perhaps the people around him should have whispered “Michael, stop injecting yourself with that stuff and talking to your stuffed animals, they’re not real. Bubbles is gone.”

Even if Dr. Conrad Murray had been found innocent, the Jackson estate would have appealed the conviction, due to them worrying about where the next pay cheque was coming from. After all, it isn’t like Janet Jackson has stepped up and become the breadwinner has she? In the first of a million more trials, Dr. Conrad Murray is going to argue the original decision. He’ll be using the following utterly incomprehensible defense:

“Improper exclusion of defence evidence and witnesses that resulted in violating the defendant’s State and constitutional rights to due process, to present a defence and to the effective assistance of counsel.”

Because none of us are trained lawyers, we assume that Dr. Conrad Murray feels that some of the witnesses used against him were dodgy. Perhaps his argument does have a modicum of logic. Michael Jackson was getting quite deluded in his later life, so perhaps calling on the sworn testimony of Santa Claus wouldn’t be appropriate. After all, Murray’s lawyers have said that he’s living in:

“Maximum security conditions in jail and had exhausted virtually all of his available resources.”

It’s well documented that before accidentally knocking off a pop star, Dr. Conrad Murray had no previous criminal conviction. So is it fair that he’s shackled around all day and spends most of his time inside on his own? What’s the ideal solution for team Murray? Living on a secret island with 2Pac? Oh no, it’s something much more quaint:

“He would live with the mother of his child, Nicole Alvarez, and would seek employment. He also is said to be willing to wear an electronic bracelet so his movements can be monitored.”

Michael Jackson fans could benefit! Imagine the Dr. Conrad Murray GPS tracking system app. The Jackson family could easily tap in and leech off that idea.

When Michael Jackson was alive (he’s very much dead these days), he ended up getting married to Lisa Marie Presley. It was weird. The King Of Pop shacking up with The King Of Rock ‘n’ Roll’s daughter. Mixing pop royalty like that… it’s incestuous and odd.

And guess what is going to happen?

That’s right, with a little bit of history repeating itself, Michael’s daughter – Paris Jackson – is giving the sex-eye to pop midget, Justin Bieber. You can just imagine the people behind both of these veritable toddlers advising them about how good a relationship with each other would be for their careers. Blecch!

It appears that Paris is not able to resist the juggernaut charm of Bieber, after she introduced him at her father’s tribute show in Hollywood.

It is reported that she ‘nearly melted in the process’. Much like her father’s face then? Nice that someone should carry on the noble family tradition.

In her intro, Paris said:

“We are all very big fans of [Justin] and his music” — and then, with a coy smile, she added, “I know I am.”

Then, Justin appeared to thunderous screams (again, much like the screams Michael would be greeted by when he found himself dazed and drugged and wandering around a playground without his special Bad trousers on) and rattled through a version of ‘Rockin’ Robin’, which MJ covered back in ’72.

Sadly, now Bieber has covered the song, it has rendered it unlistenable forever more.

Either way, keep an eye out for a gut-wrenching break-up between Bieber and Selena Gomez as he cruelly tosses her aside for a more famous, more bizarre Jackson sprog.

Good news is, is that this could get very, very ugly indeed. She’s the one with a tea-towel on her head, right?

There’s always been something incredibly sinister about Justin Bieber. Anyone who is paraded around like a prepubescent monkey eunuch should fill any right-minded person with the dread of a thousand bailiffs.

The very fact no-one seems to mind a performing menstrual period is of great concern, especially given that Bieber is clearly using his power for unspeakable evil.

Like what? Well, at the wave of his nailless foetal hand, it appears that the world’s young are donating their organs. Oooh, the horror!

Bieber is getting credit for a recent spike in organ donor registrations. Some dweebs called The Trillium Gift of Life Network have noted that, since JB answered a plea made by Helene Campbell, who’s awaiting for a lung transplant, more than 1,200 people have registered online for donation.

Bieber’s Twitter exchange with Campbell (username @alungstory) started off with the usual annoying charitable plea from a pleb to a sleb, before Justin took the sob story on and shared it with his trillion followers.

He then started tweeting about how people really should donate their organs.

However, no-one is that altruistic and we suspect that Bieber is using the organs for himself, after his young fans presumably donated them while they were still alive, cutting out their kidneys and such with Hello Kitty safety scissors and plopping them through his letter box.

And if our thoughts that Bieber is actually an illuminati goon are true, then we can only assume that he’s using the organs for nefarious purposes.

If indeed, Bieber is an illuminati lookalike, then there’s a chance that the singer is actually in his 40s and is gorging on tween organs in a bid to stay youthful. We have all noticed that he’s looking older than he used to and this fiendish scheme is clearly not working.

Spread the word. There’s a new devil among us.

Though famous for making excellent life choices, Rihanna has made one more – by getting a set of hideous tattoos. Most female celebrity tattoos look like they were purchased with a Groupon voucher and inked by Micheal J Fox post-Parkinson’s. Rihanna’s are no exception.

The never-knowingly-dressed starlet has got the words ‘Thug Life’ inked on her knuckles, and something so wonderfully secret that she’s yet to tweet a photo on her back.

Yes, you read that right. Thug. Life. Life must be really tough in that multi-million dollar ghetto she’s living in. We heard that just the other day the barista accidentally gave her the wrong sort of soya milk in her dickheaduccino. So she had him drive-by’ed (we possibly made this up).

Rihanna tweeted about the new tat saying:

“? All these b****es screaming that 2pac back ? #THUGLIFE.”

AND

“Tat my fuckin name on u girl so I know its real!!! #MINE”

Getting another tattoo was possibly the least shocking thing Rihanna could do. If she really wanted to shock us, she should show us a clean bill of health from an STD clinic, or convert to Mormonism.

Rihanna is clearly showing signs of dementia. Not only does she appear to ask her grandmother what her name is in one of her songs, her tattoos seem to show Memento-like references to her life. The 14 that we can think of are…

1. Musical notes on her right foot. An obvious reference to her career choice.

2. Pisces sign behind her ear. So she knows her month of birth

3. Some misspelled Sanskrit jibberish down her side. To remind her that she’s an unswerving nincompoop.

4. A star in her left ear – to remind her about the ones she got on her back

5. More foreign scrawlings on her ribcage. Allegedly her order at Starbucks

6. Skull on her foot – to remind her not to order a starter AND a desert

7. The word ‘love’ on her finger. It’s on the hand she used to shield her face from the blows

8. Shhh on another finger. Short for Shut The Fuck Up.

9. The date of her best friend’s birthday.

10. Tribal design – to remind her to rip off other people’s culture, as well as their music

11. A gun near her boob – useful during hostage situations and robberies.

12. ‘Rebelle Fleur’ on her neck or something (we lost interest at this point). Because thing sound less dickish in French, right?

13. And the kicker – ‘Never a failure, always a lesson’ WRITTEN IN MIRROR WRITING ON HER SHOULDER.

Rihanna is a douche of the highest proportions. We know we’re not really allowed to say this, but forget Chris Brown – we’re willing to bet that if Ghandi was left in a room with her, he’d be using her meaty thighs to beat her to death with four minutes in.

Tops.

If we were Rihanna, then the only tattoo we’d accept should read: stop humping woman-abusing low lives. Or warning: will go into anaphylactic shock if forced to wear more than two items of clothing.

Mick Jagger, a man with a face like a thousand ballsacks, is no political football! Nosiree! He doesn’t like to be aligned to any party, mainly because he knows that its not in his interests to side with anyone, lest he lose a bunch of fans.

With that, he doesn’t like Prime Minister David Cameron trying to rim him for public favour.

See, Davey Boy Cameron invited Mick Jagger (with all that swagger, whatever that means these days) to an event in Switzerland. The event was about economics. Or, if you prefer, everyone out there was opening bank accounts so they don’t have to pay their taxes. That’s precisely what was going on.

And what was this event called?

No, is wasn’t called ‘Posh Gits Learn How To Hide Penniesfest’. Rather, the Rolling Stones frontman was invited to join Cameron at the Great British Tea Party in Davos.

Yes. Apparently there’s a place called Davos. Isn’t that a Doctor Who baddie or something? Don’t tell us. We honestly couldn’t care less.

Anyway, this event was (apparently) aimed at boosting foreign investment in the country ahead of the 2012 London Olympics, but Jagger decided against going to it when news of his appearance was leaked to the media.

In a statement, Jagger admitted that he was looking forward to attending the economics summit, but refuses to be used as a puppet for the Conservative Party.

He ranted:

“I came to Davos as a guest, as I thought it would be stimulating… I have always been interested in economics and world events (but) I now find myself being used as a political football and there has been a lot of comment about my political allegiances which are inaccurate. I think it’s best I decline the invitation to the key event and curtail my visit.”

Basically, he doesn’t want everyone finding out that, despite being liberal of mind, he’s probably a bit right-wing because the Tories look after his money better.

Right?

Why do people care about The Oscars? The winners get a lousy statue that resembles a gold-plated bottle of bubble bath with a screw top head. Hollywood has run out of ideas and has realised that the game is up, badly remaking Japanese films and adapting stupid books.

But Generation Yoof won’t care about classic cinema being revisited will they? They’ve got Skins back on their worthless TVs.

And, worse still, sixth form politicians and literature geeks will all be going weak at the knees as skag wuss and all-round pus-factory Pete Doherty looks to cash in with a documentary based on run of the mill indie act, The Libertines. We expect no highs, just lows.

For some reason, The Libertines made it big despite sounding like every other band that was hanging around on the circuit. Perhaps excitable teenagers liked the spaced-out, brown-tooth look that Pete Doherty gave off as he constantly wandered around on a concoction of bad drugs and worse booze.

The Libertines essentially proved themselves to be a band version of Eastenders as Doherty decided to break into band mate Carl Barat’s flat to steal from him. Eventually he spent some time inside a nasty prison, which we all had a laugh over.

As we’ve said before, he’s not the sharpest spoon in the drawer.

Frankly, we have no idea what this documentary is going to be about. After all, it does seem to be the worst trailer we’ve ever seen for anything. Waste a minute of your life below as the camera continues to zoom out until the very end. Go GCSE media skills!

If anyone ever sits down to watch “There Are No Innocent Bystanders,” is it just going to be nothing but a scrap book of images featuring some muffled words by the band? Is anyone going to be able to tell what plastic cockney Pete Doherty is saying throughout?

Or will it just be one giant mockery of their career when we see how all of the members squandered away the money they received to reunite for hipster central festival, Leeds & Reading?

“There Are No Innocent Bystanders” will only be available in all bad cinemas, DVD shops and torrent sites still. Don’t bother asking us when it’s out.

Whitney Houston has had a GIGANTIC amount of MONSTROUSLY LARGE hits. That one off the Bodyguard where she looks like she’s defecating in a forest for the key-change in the video. That one where she had a blonde perm. It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay.

Of course, there’s that one where she said that she believed that children were our future and that, should we teach them well, we could probably let them lead the way.

Well, it seems Whitney has been getting financial advice from a 6-year-old as her squillions of dollars have all but vanished from her purse, leaving her hilariously begging people for money. Crack eh? Easy punchline, but more pertinently, a Whitney Houston ruiner.

When Whitters is not getting thrown out of gigs by Prince, she seems to have been ingesting so much crack that she’s managed to make herself poor.

Properly poor. Poorer than Toni Braxton’s three-hundred-or-so bankruptcy claims.

Radar Online report that a source close to the singer has lost her fortune. They revealed, presumably for money which they ultimately won’t give to the struggling Houston:

“Whitney’s fortune is gone.”

“Music industry heavy hitters are supporting her and her label is fronting her cash against her next album, but no one knows when that will be released.”

It’s like Brewster’s Millions isn’t it? Seriously. If you need to spend $300m in 30 days, simply lend it all to Whitney Houston and it’ll be gone in half-an-hour.

The source added:

“She might be homeless if not for people saving her. She is broke as a joke. She called someone to ask for $100.”

Gah. Imagine. Ponytailed music execs all circling round Whitney with subs to lend, brandishing their members at her while the greatest love of all turns into a potential puke-kkake fest.