Most normal people eat chips, pies, kebabs and crisps as part of their diet.

But we’re beginning to think that former boob model Jordan uses money as a food source. At every given opportunity, she gobbles up as much cash as she can get her hands on. That’s unless she has a fetish for the Queen and just likes to gaze at her on £20 notes all day.

Whatever the case, it looks like Jordan is craving more money – she’s working on her fourth autobiography. Looks like we’ll get to find out what happened between 8am – 11pm on September 19th 2009 in one easy to read, double spaced, 72-font tome.

It doesn’t matter where you go these days, you can’t avoid Jordan. In the early days, she took off her clothes and posed for pictures that will probably not get shown to the kids when they’re grown up. Now, we’ve never been offered topless modelling work, but we can assume that doing so has a limited shelf life. Well, that’s unless you work your way from the tabloids to doing to ‘20-plus’, ‘30-plus’, ‘40-plus’, ‘bored housewives’ and ‘Saggy Wangers’.

So, what’s coming next from Jordan’s very own line of steaming literacy turds? After her three other non-classic autobiographies, a fourth entitled I’m Still Standing is set to be published in the unfortunate future. With a title so epic, you’d imagine the content to be gripping, moving, full of heartache and telling us stories of a woman who’s suffered badly at the feet of a man. Actually, she was married to Peter Andre. That would depress us. Have you ever heard him sing?

Guess what; this book is all about the split from Peter Andre and the quick switch to tranny fighter Alex Reid. Come on, you most certainly never heard about it happening it in the papers. It was a very private affair where the media tit wasn’t sucked on until blood started coming out. So how can this book be summed up? Speaking to Now Magazine, director person Ben Dunn said:

“Her life is the most extraordinary rollercoaster.”

Indeed it is, and we’d never want to ride on it. Part of us still thinks that Jordan is confused about the whole fourth book release and is actually releasing a DVD. After all, isn’t there a camera crew constantly filming her and Peter Andre? Of course, they’re both happy to be filmed doing mundane tasks to further their career. Most of the time, the shows are filled with content where one of them slags the other off. Fascinating stuff.

By the time you read this, we assume a fifth book will have been announced that details the first few days of Jordan’s new marriage. We’ll most certainly be getting all of the editions that’ll probably come out. Audio book, large print, small print, Japanese text and brail.

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Hollywood actress Brittany Murphy died towards the end of last year, which was actually really sad news. She played some decent characters and was, in my esteemed opinion as someone who’s reviewed many a film, a good actress.

To clarify; by ‘many’ I mean more than one. And by ‘reviewed’ I mean ask questions all the way through so I can say at the end that I didn’t get it or that it was a bit boring.

But whatever, we can’t all be Jonathan Ross. Russell Brand’s rectum isn’t big enough for us all to fit in, for a start. Point is, it’s sad, alright?

The recent autopsy report, carried out by the Los Angeles County coroner’s office, revealed that the cause of Brittany’s death was pneumonia, iron deficiency anaemia and “multiple drug intoxication”.

But, as so often seems to be the case with celebs these days, we’re not talking about any ‘fun’ stuff here, kids. Like Michael Jackson and Heath Ledger and Anna Nicole Smith, Brittany’s death wasn’t down to crack or coke, ketamine or ecstasy, just prescription drugs.

Who remembers the good old days when celebs used to get properly fucked up on all sorts of illegal intoxications before popping their clogs? Nowadays all it takes is a sprained toe, a trip to the GP and, hey presto, you’re hooked on prescription painkillers.

Far be it from me to suggest, but perhaps the docs should hold back on writing out prescriptions for legal heroin, or whatever it is they prescribe that celebrities seem to eat like Skittles.

Don’t get me wrong, I can completely sympathise with having an addiction. We’ve all been there: on the sofa, a fishy smell emanating from our fingers, weeping bitter, crumb-filled tears into our THIRD packet of scampi fries, and yet unable to stop ourselves finishing the bag.

But really, what’s wrong with a couple of Anadin and a nice hot water bottle if you’ve got a boo-boo? You can even take some Nurofen too, if you’ve got a really bad poorly. But no aspirin, that’s taking things too far. And no, you can’t have any more paracetamol yet, and… Oi! Doherty! Hands off the Night Nurse! And Winehouse, you can remove that Vicks Inhaler from there RIGHT now!

Jeez, you give an inch.

This was a guest blog by the wondrous Leah Kayles from Smellmycheese.

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Starring Eliza as Erica and Mike Vogal – that bloke who chased the dinosaur around in Cloverfield – as Jason, Open Graves has the two of them playing surfers who stumble upon a deadly board game. Kind of like Jumanji, then, but with more blood and less hairy animals – by which we mean Robin Williams.

You can expect plenty of action, suspense, horror and a 99% chance of Eliza walking around in a bikini. To celebrate this wondrous release on DVD and Blu-ray on February 15th, we’ve got three copies of the DVD to you lucky readers. Details after the jump:

To win one of three DVD copies of Open Graves, all you need to do is watch the Open Graves trailer and then answer this incredibly, infuriatingly, easy peasy lemon squeezy question:

What is the name of Eliza Dushku’s character in the hit TV show Dollhouse:

A) Francois

B) Echo

C) Coco Magoo

Send your answers to our lovely inbox at hello[at]hecklerspray.com under the title ‘Gimme Open Graves’. The competition ends on the 17th of February at the stroke of midnight and the winner will be picked at random. The competition is open to UK residents only.

Also, if you don’t win, you could just buy a copy, you cheapskates.

We’ve long been believers of the old saying “nothing says ‘I love you’ like pulling a knife on your wife on Christmas day”.

And we’re not alone. It would appear that Charlie Sheen and Brooke Mueller also live this lesson to the fullest. In fact, we’d even go as far as to say that allegedly pulling a knife on Brooke Mueller and then threatening to have her killed on Christmas day was probably the best thing that Charlie Sheen has ever done. But remember that some of the other things that Charlie Sheen has ever done are Two And A Half Men and getting married to Denise Richards, so that’s not really saying a lot.

But we digress. Charlie Sheen was formally charged with his alleged attack on Brooke Mueller yesterday, and it’s reported that Charlie and Brooke couldn’t stop hugging afterwards. Weirdos.

It takes a certain type of person to want to hug Charlie Sheen. Entering the hug, you’d know that you were about to embrace the man who once taunted his ex-wife about her mother’s cancer, the man whose history includes both drugs and prostitutes, the man who somehow manages to be the worst thing about Two And A Half Men.

You’d only want to hug Charlie Sheen if you were at absolute rock bottom. You’d need to be in a particularly bad place if you weighed up the pros and cons of hugging Charlie Sheen compared to the pros and cons of not hugging Charlie Sheen, and ended up realising that you’d be better off hugging him. To hug Charlie Sheen is to have seen too much. With that in mind, it’s probably fair to say that Brooke Mueller has seen too much.

Of all the things that have happened to Brooke Mueller since Christmas, allegedly being assaulted by Charlie Sheen is probably the least upsetting. Since then, she’s also been admitted to intensive care with pneumonia and checked herself into rehab. Compared to these twin nightmares, having the bloke from Terminal Velocity scream death threats in your face as a Christmas present sounds like a cakewalk.

And that’s why, after Charlie Sheen was formally charged with felony menacing, misdemeanour assault and criminal mischief yesterday following the Christmas day incident, Brooke Mueller couldn’t keep her hands off him. ABC News reports:

Mueller embraced Sheen at the end of Monday’s brief hearing and the pair left together. “They hugged in the courtroom, they hugged downstairs and they are hugging in the car,” Mueller’s lawyer, Yale Galanter, told reporters after the hearing. “It is Brooke’s position that she would like the charges dismissed and this case to be over,” he added.

Oh you two! Get a room, would you? But, you know, make sure it’s a room with plenty of windows, an unobstructed route to the exit and a working telephone line with 911 on speed-dial. And no knives. It doesn’t hurt to be careful, doesn’t it?

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Look at Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Look at them. Have you ever seen a couple more obviously in love?

Think carefully before you answer that. Because, should you suggest that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie aren’t in love, they’ll sue you. They’ll sue you just like they’re suing the News Of The World, which last month reported that Brad and Angelina were on the brink of a split. This means that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are together and happy and that they’ve never been so in love.

That said, we do have our suspicions. Does Angelina Jolie really love Brad Pitt? After all, he has got a beard that makes him look like he rubbed glue onto his face and then performed cunnilingus on a succession of hairy Mongolian pensioners. We’d find it difficult to love someone with a beard like that. That’s all we’re saying.

A lot of people are bound to be disappointed that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie aren’t splitting up. For example, it means that Madonna will no longer be able to sneak in and buy up all of their children for a knock-down rate. And Jennifer Aniston won’t get to bob up and down in Brad Pitt’s eyeline, constantly winking and pouting at him like a faulty Jim Henson puppet in an attempt to win him back. And Brad Pitt himself won’t shave off his beard to increase the chances of him landing a new girlfriend, which will be a disappointment to everyone who owns a working set of eyes.

But there’s nothing we can do about that, because Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie definitely aren’t splitting up. And, what’s more, they’ll sue anyone who says they are. A couple of week ago, the News Of The World claimed that Brad and Angelina were splitting up, and had consulted a divorce lawyer even though they’re not actually married.

Because of this, the rumour mill then went into overdrive – claiming that Angelina was depressed and that Brad had cheated and that Brad had bought a batcave for himself and that Angelina was going to rebound by purchasing a new baby from Uzbekistan and naming it Xanax Bibble. We may have made one of those up. But, anyway, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were so outraged by the report that they’ve decided to sure the News Of The World. The LA Times reports:

“The News of the World has failed to meet our clients’ reasonable demands for a retraction of and apology for these false and intrusive allegations which have now been widely republished by mainstream news outlets,” a lawyer working for the couple in London said in a statement. “We have advised them to bring proceedings, which they have now done.”

And, just to prove that the report was nothing but lies, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie turned up to the Super Bowl together on Sunday and conspicuously smooched all the way through it. Some are claiming that this was just a PR stunt on their part to divert everyone’s attention from the gaping cracks in their relationship, but we’re not so sure. They seemed fairly convincing and, having seen several films starring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie in our time, we know that ‘convincing’ isn’t something either of them achieve very often.

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If you like balls, and you like boxes, and you also like being REALLY SCARED, then we think we’ve found the game for you. So long as you have quite low expectations about the being really scared thing.

It’s Werebox – a game about boxes that turn into balls! Spooky! That nonsense premise aside, Werebox is actually a fun little puzzler – you have to transform boxes into balls and back again in order to rid each level of certain-coloured boxes. Which is a terrible description, obviously, but it’ll all become clear once you start playing it. Or maybe you’re too scared… of BOXES!

Play Werebox now

You know what the best thing about Dr Conrad Murray’s manslaughter charge is? Nobody is happy about it.?

The Jackson family? Not happy. They wanted Murray to faces charges of murder following Michael Jackson’s death, and think that manslaughter is just a slap on the wrist. Murray? Not happy. He says that he procured the heavy duty anaesthetic that killed Michael Jackson legally, and that he was doing everything he could to wean Michael off it.

Us? Also not happy. Because now it means we’re going to have more Michael Jackson nonsense shoved down our throat until the end of poxy time. Yeah, thanks a lot for dying Michael Jackson, you big sod.

It’s fair to say that things aren’t exactly going in favour of the Jacksons at the moment. What they wanted seems pretty clear – following Michael Jackson’s death, they wanted to haul Dr Conrad Murray across the coals for murder. After all, it was Murray who administered the Propofol that killed Michael Jackson. If he went down for murder, then he’d take all the blame for Jackson’s death and it’d be easier for them to Disneyfy Michael Jackson into a family-friendly brand that could appear on stamps and lunchboxes and money and whatnot.

That’s not going to happen. Dr Conrad Murray hasn’t been charged with murder, he’s been charged with manslaughter. Yesterday in Los Angeles, prosecutors claimed that Murray “did unlawfully, and without malice, kill Michael Joseph Jackson”. Maximum punishment? Four years in jail. It’s quite a long time for a man in his late fifties like Conrad Murray, but nothing compared to what he would have faced with a murder charge.

Worse still, Dr Conrad Murray has pleaded not guilty to the charges. That means that, rather than the open and shut case the Jacksons were expecting, it’s now likely that every harrowing anecdote about Michael Jackson’s drug addiction will be made public. Murray is already planning to use footage of Michael Jackson off his box on drugs as evidence of his innocence, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, as Sky News reports:

Dr Murray has set the stage for a sensational courtroom drama and a face-off with members of the Jackson family. Dr Murray’s legal team will argue that Michael Jackson was a man well used to taking this kind of drug and sedatives. Statements already released by police have said Dr Murray was attempting to wean Jackson off the sedatives but believed he was being supplied by other doctors.

This is going to be great. We’re going to get the full shebang – wailing witness statements by various members of the Jackson family, long medical explanations about what a hopeless drug addict Michael Jackson had become, possibly the unseen footage from This Is It where Michael shuffles around like a confused old lady dressed up as ET, maybe even a few gratuitous pictures of Michael Jackson’s hollowed-out, surgery-mangled face just for the hell of it. It’ll be everything you ever wanted it to be. It’ll be the trial of the century.

Incidentally, if anyone knows the number of the batty old woman who released a dove into the air every time Michael Jackson was cleared of a different child abuse charge in 2005, you might want to call her up. This could be her big encore.

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Usually we have a simple rule when it comes to picking our favourites for the BAFTA Orange Rising Star – go with the prettiest girl.

But this year we’ve decided not to be so superficial. This year we’ve decided that we want Nicholas Hoult to win the award, because we quite like the fluffy sweater he wears in his new film. So make it so, everyone. Vote for Nicholas Hoult’s lovely sweater to win the BAFTA. Do it for us!

Video evidence of the lovely sweater in question, plus voting links, after the jump…

Awesome or Off-Putting

UFOs have been caught on tape an awful lot. A recent survey show’s them to be the third most common thing home-recorded – finishing behind home-videos of John Edwards boinking various non-wives, and home-videos of John Edwards smiling behind a basement-desk calling himself ‘Mr. President’ and signing a whole stack of important looking blank printer paper.

Well UFOs have been filmed again – this time swarming all over Acapulco.

Like we said before – UFOs caught on tape are becoming a fairly regular occurrence. For instance, there was this one where a black triangle was filmed for a grand total of 16 minutes. Also there’s the one where the unidentified objects are soaring over Washington DC, and this one where approximately 100 pub-goers saw (and several filmed) strange lights cruising above Shakespeare’s home town.

And it’s not just drunken civilians catching this stuff on tape either – no it’s not! This one here was recorded by the Mexican air force – a military arm we’re told is quite powerful and definitely exists.

Today’s topic was also filmed in Mexico. The objects involved are flying incredibly high up in the sky, and although they appear only as white dots – there sure are a lot of them. They also appear to be giving off  light. There seems to be a faint luminescent aura around them. Really, they don’t look that different from the DC UFOs or the previous Mexican flying objects for that matter. Does that lend them credibility?

Keep in mind ‘UFO’ doesn’t necessarily mean spaceship – but what are they? If they are craft from space – perhaps one will have to crash for us all to know for sure. Oh wait a second – that’s already allegedly happened- and that was in Mexico too! We’re starting to suspect they’ve been hiding all this ‘alien activity’ underneath their sombreros.

But if memory serves correctly - that instance really didn’t turn out so well, did it?

Anyhow – here’s the most recent video, filmed on January 31, 2010:

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First, a clarification – Rip Torn has the best celebrity arrest of all time. The man’s a genius. He’s untouchable.

He’s 78 years old and he broke into a bank, holding a loaded gun, because he was so drunk that he thought it was his own house. Nobody on the face on the planet has ever done anything that brilliant. Rip Torn, we want you to be our grandpa.

But, although he has the best celebrity arrest in history, he hasn’t got the only celebrity arrest in history. Celebrities literally can’t stop getting arrested and, since celebrities are on average 15 times stupider than normal people, their arrests are often quite hilarious. Take a look…

10 – Naomi Campbell

There are places where you’re allowed to be a bit angry. Boxing rings, for instance. Or pub car parks. But planes? No. Act out of line on a plane and you could end up being attacked by dogs. Or  getting shot at. Or someone might stick their fingers up your bum. Not that Naomi Campbell cared about any of that in 2008, when she went berserk over some lost luggage and ended up lashing out at a policeman. She’s a lovely girl really.

9 – The Game

You don’t hear much from The Game these days, do you? That’s either because a) the only way he could have picked a less Google-friendly nameis if he called himself The, or b) because he’s not very good. Still, at least he’ll always go down in history as being the rapper with the stupidest arrest story of all. Drugs? No. Guns? No. Putting on a Halloween mask in a shopping centre and swearing so loudly that he ended up getting pepper-sprayed? Um, yes. The Game, you are a genius.

8 – Hugh Grant

Getting a blowjob from a prostitute? Forgiveable. Getting a blowjob from a prostitute when you’ve already got a girlfriend? Less forgiveable. Getting a blowjob from a prostitute in a car in front of a policeman? Stupid. Getting a blowjob from a prostitute in a car in front of a policeman when your girlfriend is Liz Hurley? Hugh Grant, you really can be an awful wazzock.

7 – Lindsay Lohan

Anyone can get arrested. Some people can even get arrested for getting drunk and driving a car full of terrified passengers around. A choice handful might even have cocaine in their pockets as they do it. But only Lindsay Lohan, only dear sweet Lindsay Lohan, would preface all of this by screaming “I’m a celebrity, I can do whatever the fuck I want” just to make it perfectly clear that she isn’t very likeable, as she did in 2007. For that, Lindsay, we thank you. Sort of.

6 – Paul Reubens

When you watch Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, you don’t ever get the impression that Pee-Wee is the sort of person who’d be arrested for wanking in a cinema, do you? Well apparently he is. Ick.

5 – George Michael

When you watch a George Michael video, you don’t ever get the impression that George is the sort of person who’d be arrested for wanking in a public toilet, would… oh, yes. Yes you would. Sorry.

4 – Foxy Brown

It takes a very special woman to make Naomi Campbell look approachable and meek, but then again Foxy Brown is a very special woman. Arrested once for fighting the staff of a nail salon over some change, arrested again for trashing a shop because she was trying to fix her hair while it was closing, and arrested yet again for smashing her neighbour’s face in with a BlackBerry, Foxy Brown doesn’t do anything by halves. Apart from rapping, obviously. She isn’t particularly good at that if we remember correctly.

3 – Gary Coleman

As with Foxy Brown, Gary Coleman is a tiny, past-his-prime human with a penchant for ridiculous arrests. But the most ridiculous, even more ridiculous than the time he was arrested for punching the inside of his own car, came during an evening out at a bowling alley. A man asked to take a picture of Gary Coleman, and Coleman refused on the basis that photos of him cost $20. The man tried to take one anyway and, in the ensuing scuffle, Gary Coleman knocked him over with a truck. Not a toy truck, either – a real, full-sized truck. And that’s how we fell in love with Gary Coleman again.

2 – Mel Gibson

You all know the story, so we’ll just cut to the chase and give you the wonderful quote instead: “My life is fucked. I’m not going to get in your car… You motherfucker. I’m going to fuck you… Fucking Jews… The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world. Are you a Jew?… What do you think you’re looking at, Sugartits?” Perfection.

1 – James Brown

September 1988. We’ll quote this one from The Guardian:

James Brown, toting pistol and shotgun, marched into an insurance seminar next door to his offices in Augusta, pissed off that someone had used his toilet without permission. Cops were called and a chase ensued over the state line into South Carolina. After 23 bullets were emptied into his tyres, Brown finally emerged from his vehicle – allegedly singing ‘Georgia on My Mind’.

Oh James Brown, why can’t your ghost come and haunt us, you mental old sod.

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You know, many people were expecting Avatar to be top of the weekend box office until the end of time.

After all, it had everything. Guns, explosions, robots, sexy lady aliens with boobs, you name it. However, here’s where the people got it wrong – it’s only boys who like that stuff. Girls like different things. Girls like sensitive boys and crying and scenes of sensitive boys kissing crying girls on construction sites in rainstorms. And where was all that in Avatar? Nowhere, that’s where.

And that’s why the new weekend box office number one is Dear John, which is either the greatest movie ever made or an awful piece of crap, depending on how many fallopian tubes you own.

Gentleman, consider this advance warning. Remember The Notebook? Remember how you were forced to watch The Notebook once, and your girlfriend wouldn’t stop crying all the way through it and it was basically so insufferable that you felt like crawling through the screen and trying to drown Ryan Gosling? Remember how you made a mental promise to yourself never to watch another film like The Notebook again? Well Dear John is almost identical to The Notebook, so make yourself busy until it’s not on in cinemas any more. And then destroy your DVD player.

Unless we’ve told you too late. Dear John has become the first movie for months to take more money than Avatar at the weekend box office, so it’s fairly likely that a number of boys have already been tricked into watching it. We give these men out sympathies. Everyone else, consider this weekend box office top five advance warning…

1 - Dear John (Now we’re not saying that Dear John is the worst kind of painfully emotional female film, or that any man who was involved in its production should be ashamed, but Channing Tatum did try to burn his cock off immediately after making it. Just saying) $32,400,000

2 - Avatar (James Cameron shouldn’t be sad that Avatar is no longer the weekend box office number one. At least it’s made so much money that he can afford a haircut now. Seriously James Cameron, cut your hair. You’re starting to look like Helen Mirren) $23,600,000

3 - From Paris With Love (John Travolta shaves his head and fires a bazooka. Judging by the past, this means that at some point over the next couple of years, The Rock will make a film where he shaves his head and fires a bazooka) $8,120,000

4 - Edge of Darkness (Interesting. Mel Gibson calling someone an asshole on live TV didn’t make anyone flock to see Edge Of Darkness. This doesn’t bode well for the ‘Shitmuncher’ press tour that he’s planning for his next film, does it?) $7,005,000

5 - The Tooth Fairy (Seriously The Rock, that bald-headed bazooka movie can’t come quickly enough) $6,500,000

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If anyone is still playing the ‘which member of the Spears family is most troubled’ game, we have news.

No, it’s not about Britney. She hasn’t gone bald again or lost all of her knickers. She hasn’t got married to a fat dancer or got into a screaming match with a hatstand. She hasn’t started dating a paparazzo or written a blog in Esperanto about how she’s made of moonbeams and unicorn tears. It’s about Jamie Lynn Spears.

Apparently Jamie Lynn Spears has split up with the father of her baby and moved onto a new man who’s ten years older than her. Which, by our calculations, makes him about 13. Because Jamie Lynn Spears is very young, you see. Get it? Anyone? No?

Remember when celebrity news wasn’t relentlessly dull? Remember when it was full of cocky young twits driving around drunk and making sex tapes and generally making arses of themselves? Now what have got? The biggest celebrity story of the last few month was about a slightly horny golfer, for crying out loud. Sure, Rip Torn has done his best to turn it around by staging a drunken armed break-in of a bank that he thought was his house, but he’s farting into a hurricane. Celebrity news has got dreary.

If only Jamie Lynne Spears was still famous. She knew how to do it right – getting pregnant at the age of 16 to a church-buddy is exactly the way that celebrities should behave. Similarly, informing your mother of said pregnancy by letter at the exact moment that she’s about to publish a book about what a brilliant parent she is also deserves praise. Oh, if only Jamie Lynn Spears would come back and do something else moderately dimwitted.

What’s that? Jamie Lynn Spears has left the father of her baby Casey Aldridge and immediately got involved with a man who’s almost 30? Yeah, that’ll do. People reports:

Spears moved out of the Liberty, Miss., house she shared Aldridge and their 19-month-old daughter, Maddie, about six weeks ago and is now living with her mother, Lynne, according to sources. Spears, 18, has recently begun dating James Watson, 28, who owns a multimedia company close to Kentwood, La., according to a Spears family friend, who says, “he seems to be a nice guy.”

What? No, this is all wrong. Jamie Lynn Spears finding love with a successful man who ’seems to be a nice guy’? This isn’t right at all! What happened to the Spears DNA? Shouldn’t Jamie Lynn be moving in with a paunchy backing dancer who’s got one eye on her Zoey 101 residuals? Shouldn’t she be trying to get pregnant by waving her bare vagina around in the air and hoping that some airborne sperm particles somehow get lodged in there? Shouldn’t she be shaving off her hair and attacking inanimate objects in full view of the paparazzi?

You’re a disappointment to your family, Jamie Lynn Spears. Just you wait until your sister hears about this. She’ll have to do something doubly berserk to compensate. Hopefully.

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Do you like magic? We sure do – to this day we still can’t work out how someone is able to steal our nose and wave it around in front of us.

How do we breathe when it’s been detached from our face? And how come we can still feel something there? Honestly, we’re always asking questions and never getting answers.

In some ways, this makes us feel a little bit closer to Michael Jackson. We have nose-related issues and so did he. Was it possessed after an African tribe cursed it? Or shall we just blame Dr. Conrad Murray? After all, everyone seems to be baying for his blood. Our landlord even believed us when we said our rent was late because of him. Instead of lying down and taking the world’s crap, Dr. Conrad Murray plans to fight back – by getting Michael Jackson to say what a lovely man he is.

When  a healthy 50-year-old man drops down dead, it does seem a little strange. After all, a stingray never went through him like Steve Irwin and he never wanked himself to death like Michael Hutchence. At least Elvis had a comedy death with a burger in one hand and his backside parked firmly on the throne.

Michael Jackson’s death was put down to drugs. But not the sort you see common scum inject in to their arm and snort up their nose. Oh no, because Michael was a fairly popular singer, he got industrial strength painkillers and all sorts of weird-sounding tablets. The kind that would knock out a herd of giraffes.

Now, stupidly powerful drugs can’t be picked up at a local chemist. Therefore you need a trusting doctor who can assess a patient beforehand. Step forward Dr. Conrad Murray.

Michael Jackson’s death is being firmly blamed on Dr. Conrad Murray. He’s been made public enemy number one, with members of the Jackson family holding him responsible and Michael’s death certificate ruling his death as a homicide. So how is he going to defend himself? Simple, he’s going to show us footage of Michael Jackson off his tits on drugs. The News Of The World reports:

“Lawyers for Doctor Conrad Murray want to use old video footage of spaced-out Jacko to demonstrate the depth of his drug habit. Personal physician Murray is set to stand trial on an involuntary manslaughter charge for delivering a fatal drug cocktail overdose to the megastar in June last year. His legal team hope Jackson’s appearance from beyond the grave – which sounds like something straight out of his famous zombie video Thriller – will show Murray can’t be guilty.”

And what would be the point in this? After all, we all know that Michael Jackson wasn’t the sanest individual. Martin Bashir’s documentary showed us his true wacko side, the multiple child molestation accusations never helped and he had a bloody monkey as a pet. NOTW reports further:

“Instead, they will suggest that the King of Pop knew how to self-administer and battled pill addiction for over 17 years.”

Planned footage to be screened is a weak-looking Michael Jackson during the rehearsals of the This Is It tour which would have been held if he hadn’t have died. Hold on a second! Didn’t the Jackson camp release a film showing the exact opposite? They wanted us to believe he could walk without limbs falling off.

Bah, our head is done in. We’ll concentrate on solving that magic trick involving our nose.

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Did you see the Super Bowl yesterday? Oh boy, that sure was some game – the way that one team beat another team?

Amazing. And the Super Bowl half-time show, where half of The Who sang some songs in a fairly nondescript manner? Wowsers, talk about entertainment. And then there were the Super Bowl adverts, like the one for Dockers where nobody wore trousers, and the one where Toyota hilariously apologised for recalling five million cars because they were potentially lethal. Classic Super Bowl.

But the biggest Super Bowl moment probably came with the 15-second commercial for David Letterman’s show. Why? Because it reunited Letterman with his arch-enemy Jay Leno, which is a big deal if you like that kind of thing.

For the most part, yesterday’s Super Bowl was a crushing disappointment. Usually the big news of the day comes from the half-time show, but that wasn’t the case this year. The protests against The Who’s appearance didn’t turn into a full-scale riot, Pete Townshend didn’t make his guitar look like a willy like Prince did a few years ago and Roger Daltrey didn’t even pop one of his nipples out. It was very disappointing.

And the Super Bowl itself wasn’t much better, on the basis that American football is a sport that people only pretend to like. So that just leaves the commercials. And, luckily, David Letterman had something quite special in store for us. Look…

Look! It’s David Letterman and Oprah Winfrey, who David Letterman was once engaged in a long feud with. And there’s Jay Leno, who David Letterman has been engaged in a feud with for almost 20 years. Together! On a sofa! For 15 seconds! Together!

The advert was a masterstroke for all kinds of reasons, especially because the recent palaver over Conan O’Brien and The Tonight Show gave Leno and Letterman a new excuse to snipe at each other with unbridled ferocity on their shows. And now it would seem that all the bad blood’s in the past.

The three stars come out of the commercial looking better than ever, too. David Letterman looks like a good sport for arranging it, Jay Leno gets to take another step towards public redemption and Oprah Winfrey looks like a comedy genius just by sitting next to Jay Leno – who is, after all, about as funny as herpes.

And the repercussions of the commercial should be great, too. If it works, all three will see a direct ratings boost as a result. And if it doesn’t work, the worst-case scenario is that the world gets a much-needed reminder of what wonderful actors they all are. People forget that Oprah Winfrey was once nominated for an Oscar, or that Jay Leno was once in a buddy action movie with Mr Miyagi, or that David Letterman was once in one episode of Mork And Mindy 31 years ago. The offers should come flooding in now.

But the David Letterman commercial wasn’t the only good thing about yesterday’s Super Bowl. There was also… oh, who are we kidding? Yes it was.

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Lost season premieres are a mix of feverish anticipation and

Now, penetrating the heart of the island, we’re going to deconstruct the latest double episode, LA X, with the microscopic precision of the best forum-dwelling underling you can find.

To recap: The last season ended on typically unusual grounds – with some of the survivors underground and others inside an ancient Egyptian toe. Still, with Ben getting the grumps with the god-like Jacob, Locke turning out to be an evil doppelganger and Juliet detonating a nuclear bomb, it sent the whole premise in a giant tailspin.

So, keeping a sharp mind, we point out the bits you should have been paying attention to in Friday night’s new episode:

In traditional Lost rug-pulling fashion, we start off back on Oceanic 815, with the bomb detonation resulting in a reset – except things are slightly different. Jack is back on the plane, with a look suggesting he either remembers something about the Island or the person sitting next to him has just guffed. Probably the former, given the mysterious cut on his neck (a pre-bomb battle scar?) and his surroundings.

Differences from the original plane to note: Bernard managing to take a crap in the toilet without falling out the back of the plane, Hobbit Charlie choking on his drugs, Season one’s Boone minus his sister Shannon, the air hostess deciding not to give Jack as much booze as in the original and Hurley being uncursed by the numbers.

Most importantly, Scotsman Desmond was on the plane, instead of sitting in a room pushing buttons every 108 minutes in a life far too depressingly similar to ours. Jack seems to recognise him as well, which, is probably significant.

After we’ve seen Bizzaro Oceanic Flight 815, the show cuts to a circa ‘95 Windows screensaver, plunging the viewer underwater to reveal the Island’s more aquatic location in this alt-verse.

In another interesting turn of events, it appears we are back on the island, with Jack and co also being flung forward to present time (well, 2007), now creating two timelines. Clearly the nuclear device was the most non-effective of all time, as everybody seems to have survived the blast.

In 2007 we are also back with the now evil Locke (Cocke, as the kids are sure to call him) acting all self-important after convincing Ben to do away with his nemesis Jacob. Not an episode for peripheral supporting players, he soon rains down pain by turning into the smoke monster and killing three people. When he turns back into Cocke, he apologises to Ben for seeing him like that, sounding like a guilty teenager after his mum has absently caught him masturbating. He also mentioned being a bit homesick as well, bless him.

As the episode decides to spiral more into lunacy, Hurley takes the gang on a mission to save Sayid at dead Jacob’s behest (he can see dead people). They visit The Temple, the seemingly tribal grounds of The Others (did you spot ex-air hostess Cindy?) and playing home to John Lennon and that bloke from Sunshine. Here, they dunk Sayid underwater to boil for twenty minutes or so until tender, leaving him to cool down for a further ten until resurrected from the dead, serving us a satisfying climax to the episode.

Lost Season six launches by copying Sliding Doors – having two different timelines running parallel – but instead of having to watch John Hannah we get an actual charismatic Scotsman. Time travel, dead people, smoke monsters, underwater islands and John Lennon; Lost is either the most brilliantly audacious and absurd show on television or a complete load of mythological turd. We dunno which either, but we’ll be back for more.

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