Well, knock us down with a feather. It must be that time of the week again. The time when we force our hands into the stinking, wretched filth that comes into the hecklerspray mailbox.

To give you an idea of what our mailbag actually resembles, allow us to paint you a picture. With words. Imagine taking a bowl of delicious, ripe fruit and writing a series of misguided, offended or just plain idiotic messages on each pieces and then leaving it to rot. Then imagine putting the pulped, putrid remains of the fruit into a plastic carrier bag and leaving it in a very humid room for a couple of weeks.

Then imagine having to dip your hand into that to remove and read something which calls you a useless idiot. That’s called user feedback, folks and it fucking sucks.

Still, without any further ado, let us wash the remains of your rotten correspondence from our hands and copy your dribbling rants verbatim.

You can pity us but it won’t do you any good. You did this to us in the first place. So here’s this week’s Readers’ Letters. Benevolent deities help us all.

First up this week is the spawn of Jay-Z’s loins. Naturally, this is one of the biggest celebrity stories of the year because they’re both like totally famous and, like, totally talented and stuff. Of course, people with a fan base inevitably have legions of masturbatory freaks who can’t take a joke. Like “Me” for instance. No, not me. Some moron who still thinks referring to themselves in the singular is funny.

I can tell by your article that you don’t like reporting on beyonce so why do they have you doing it.. I came on her to read about beyonce not about how sarcastic you can be.. I mean really get over yourself or don’t report on her..give someone else this job

Reading comments like this really leads us to a phenomenon known as ‘hulking out’, where we all turn either into Marvel Superheroes or into 80s’ American wrestlers. The whole fucking point is that the article is about how sarcastic we can be. There’s nothing else to it. Until you people stop projecting some kind of journalistic ethical code onto us, we’re going to keep having to repeat this every week. Here it is in simple English.

WE ARE NOT JOURNALISTS. 

At least Sparkletits gets it; even though she (?) was replying to some other moron on some other article:

Whoa there friend, settle down. This site is beloved specifically because it brutalizes celebrities. This is like walking into a boxing match and complaining about the violence. Fuck off to people.com or whatever. LiLo is a trainwreck tire fire and does hilarious shit. The end.

That was in response to someone called Michael Prymula, who has a name like a cheese substitute that comes in a tube. His opinions should therefore be disregarded but given that we used to enjoy the one with chives in it on Ritz Crackers, here’s his “worthwhile contribution”:

Fuck you! you worthless fucking piece of dogshit! You think other people’s hardships are SOOOOOOO hilarious, why don’t you just go fuck yourself and stop writing bullshit that nobody cares about! Lindsay can and WILL make a comeback, and she’s a FAR better person then you are!

This is another one. “No-one cares about your opinion” or “nobody cares about their indiscretions”. Of course they do. By leaving comments angrily decrying those who take the piss out of your smacked-up idol, you’re disproving your own point. Of course Lindsay Lohan is a better person than us because we’re fatuous cunts that use our money (earned from a career making faces like we’re having sticks pulled from our arses) to buy crack and smoke a bowl in someone’s poolhouse.

Wait. Hang on. We’ve got ourselves mixed up with strung-out, failed actor Lindsay Lohan, haven’t we? Silly us.

Still, much as ‘she of the poolside nickname’ has some misguided fans, that’s nothing compared to the fans of 30 Seconds To Mars frontdick Jared Leto. Of course, given that all groups of fans have to collective nouns to distinguish them from your average horde of braying nutsacks, we’ve decided to christen Leto’s lot “The Leotards”. Please pass it on to those forums you frequent.

Sometimes it’s the names of the people posting that really draw you into a comment. Take TheGuyWhoWroteThePostIsAFaggotJelousFatForeverAloneSucker which must be an unmitigated nightmare to sign on a disability cheque. This pillar of the Leotard community was up in arms because we wrote an article about him ALMOST FIVE YEARS AGO.

Who the hell’s the gay guy that wrote the post? I bet he’s a fat friki foreveralone 40-year-old who still wets his bed and jelous of THE PERFECTION OF JARED LETO.

Just another hater modafogga who will burn in hell.

Of course, if there’s one thing we’ve learned from the heavily Christian fanbase of 30 Seconds To Galaxy Caramel, it’s that homosexuality is wrong and is punishable by eternity in the firey pits of hell. It is surely not going too far to assume that there must be a fate worse than this for people who like Jared Leto’s fucking awful band.

AJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAA
Motherfoggaaaaa
Crappy band? Yo’ mamaaa
Go to hel ahhahahahahaa This dude has some issues.

Yes, here it is again. Would you like us to pick it out?

This dude has some issues.

This from the person who can’t spell motherfucker (or anything for that matter), thinks homosexuals deserve to burn in hell and, perhaps most heinously of all, thinks 30 Seconds to Peanut M&Ms are or ever were any good. It’s stunning to think that someone like this is out living amongst us and not locked in a darkened basement, hooked up to a car battery.

Still, at least ajay knows what we’re all about:

very very very very sexy

Thanks.

Until next week; be good. If you can’t be good be careful. If you can’t be careful then try not to impale your genitals on anything sharp.

Five teenage boys are standing in a circle, arms locked around each others shoulders but this is no group hug.

They are all urinating into the centre.

They are ten metres away from the toilets.

Welcome to Leeds.

Another teenage boy is enjoying the comforts of a campfire.

A tent sits barely twelve inches away from the pile of burning rubbish.

“You’re brave having that so near your tent” a concerned passer-by ventures.

“It’s not my tent” comes the reply.

Yep. This is definitely Leeds alright.

This is not a festival where common sense prevails, but one where chaos reigns. It also routinely has one of the best line-ups a fan of what was once called ‘alternative rock’ but what could only be referred to now as ‘not metal’ could desire.  There are thousands of indie kids who are individually polite and considerate but as a collective are a drunken malco-ordinated tsunami of excitement. We’re only brave enough to come for one day.

Perhaps being the first band on the NME/Radio 1 stage is a prestigious slot? It’s the only to explain why Pulled Apart By Horses would be so low on the bill with the sound turned down to ‘morning’. Quiet noise-rock? Pity, since they’re one of more exciting homegrown live acts to have appeared in the last few years. We always undervalue British bands when they choose making a noise over striking a pose. We hope that’s not the case here.

Does it Offend You, Yeah? really are the perfect act for Leeds. With their anarchic attitude and childish techno-rock they provide the perfect antidote to The Blackout’s exercise in danger-free genre adherence playing simultaneously on the main stage. The kids get DIOYY in a way that suggests that they’re a critic-proof party band. On this occasion the kids are all right.

Dublin three-piece The Minutes are the first of several bands that we catch on the BBC Introducing stage. They’re another one whose sound requires more volume. Their brand of rock n’ roll would be better suited to a venue that’s wet as a result of perspiration rather than precipitation.

Employees of the hair conditioner industry aren’t the only people grateful for Bring Me the Horizon. The band earn such devotion from their fans, but presumably from their metalcore anthems rather than singer Olly Sykes genital fixation. We’ve not seen this much simulated masturbation since late ’80s Madonna.

After briefly checking out Cerebral Ballzy’s supremely energetic take on ’80s skatepunk, we catch a couple of songs from the dreamy piano-playing piece of girl-bait that is Tim Minchin before the heat of the tent gets too much.

Yes, they sound like no-one else, yes they are the thinking man’s metal band but after years of trying to like them, we’re just going to have to come clean- we find Deftones boring. Dreadfully boring.

The Vaccines remind us of so many bands that we can’t even be bothered to work out whether they’re any good. This may seem like a betrayal of journalistic responsibility but there’s only so much musical analysis we can do. If we think any more about the Vaccines we might miss the next Beatles.

It’s a good time at the moment if you like music with fuzzed-up early 90s guitar on. If you enjoyed the Yuck album, but want something more lo-fi but with a (slight) nod towards Velvets, you could do a lot worse than the Milk Maid album. There’s something pleasing about albums full of great melodies that are knowingly under produced- a reminder of how bringing joy to a few is better inspiration than redundant (and unrealistic) rock star fantasies. Live, they make it look effortless, which is not the same thing as uncaring.

Jared Leto really is a preposterous individual. I’ve never seen someone get so into rock star posturing that they can’t find the time to play any actual music, but that seems to be what passes for a performance from 30 Seconds to Mars. He invites fans on stage (a drawn-out, logistically challenging patience tester), makes long speeches about how awesome we all are, and thanks us for helping sell out their recent tour (complete with list of venues). It’s the most expensive award ceremony speech we’ve ever seen! We should point out that silly as this all is, it’s rather endearing.

My Chemical Romance are one hell of a pop band. We don’t mean that as an insult- they’ve amassed an arsenal of catchy 4 minute sing-a-long songs, and play them like a balls-out rock band. We don’t know whether we’d ever buy an album but they’re certainly welcome in a world with plenty of big-selling artists but not many worthy headliners.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or else we’ll kill you in your sleep or join our Facebook group if anyone is still daft enough to use it or BUY ONE OF OUR STUPID T-SHIRTS OR WE’LL KILL EVERYONE YOU’VE EVER LOVED!

MTV EMAs – if ever there was a show like the MTV VMAs but worse because it’s held somewhere cold and drizzly, it’s you.

The MTV Europe Music Awards took place last night in Liverpool, and it was the perfect opportunity for the city to show off that famous sense of humour it’s always blathering on about. How did it do this? By naming Rick Astley as the Best Act Ever? No – it did it by giving 30 Seconds To Mars multiple awards even though they’re the worst band in the history of recorded music. Oh, you crazy Liverpudlians with your funny pranks.

Also Paul McCartney got given something called an Ultimate Legend award at the MTV EMAs, which isn’t surprising because he’s hands-down the thing that Liverpool is most famous for. Well, the most tangible one, anyway – it’s not like you can give an award to a chippy sense of wounded resentment, is it?

For all its sins – like the way it commoditised the music industy and its perverse insistence on keeping Kerry Katona in gainful employment – MTV is making the world a better place. No, really, it is.

And it’s all down to MTV’s foreign exchange awards host scheme. At the MTV VMAs earlier this year, Europe sent Russell Brand over to America as a host and then sat back as he offended everyone in sight. And so America retaliated by letting Katy Perry host last night’s MTV EMAs in Liverpool, even though everyone hates her because she held a knife once.

But anyway, the awards. Rather than do what others are doing and grumble that hardly anyone British won any MTV EMAs even though Britain had graciously allowed MTV to hold its awards show here, we’ll just try and concentrate on the facts. And those facts are:

* Pink won Most Addictive Track for a song we heard once and can’t remember.

* Kanye West won Ultimate Urban, depriving everyone of the only reason to watch music awards shows – the embittered Kanye West spaz-out.

* As with the MTV VMAs, Britney Spears won several awards, including Album Of The Year, Act Of 2008 and the We Promise To Give You All Sorts Of Awards You Don’t Deserve If You Let Us Do A Documentary About You bumlick award.

* 30 Seconds To Mars won the Rock Out and Video Star awards, which we’re taking as either a) an elaborate joke that we haven’t got yet, b) a shameful recognition that Jared Twatting Leto was the most famous person from an American rock band to bother showing up, or c) that God hates us all.

And then there was Paul McCartney. As the sort of guest of honour at the MTV EMAs, it was only right that Paul McCartney was given the biggest award of the night – the Ultimate Legend award or, as it’s informally known, the It’s Safe To Assume That All Paul McCartney Albums In The Future Will Be Rubbish award.

As Liverpool’s most famous son, not only did Paul McCartney turn up to the MTV EMAs but he was also deeply gracious in victory, as Reuters reports:

“Many years ago four little boys were born here in Liverpool and we went on to do quite well,” McCartney said of his former band the Beatles, the most successful pop act of all time. “So thanks to all my family, to all of you for coming along, to all of you in Liverpool, to everyone in Britain, to everyone in America for voting for Mr. Obama.”

So congratulations to Paul McCartney for winning his MTV EMA, and commiserations to Ringo Starr. Apparently he was the first choice to win the Ultimate Legend award, but he must have thrown his invitation in the bin or something.

30 Seconds to Mars and their glorious leader Jared Leto had better check the back of their sofas for loose change.

They may have to resort to begging, borrowing or even stealing to get through this one – being sued by Virgin Records for $30 million isn’t the kind of thing you can get by simply by using the cash you carry in your wallet. Maybe they could sell their instruments and equipment – though this would of course mean they can no longer play as a band…

So in other words, it would be win-win.

But why such a huge amount? Well, according to Virgin, Jared Leto and 30 Seconds to Mars were contracted to provide three albums, but didn’t. Apparently this is worth that much money to the company, so they’ve gone and sued that movie star from the band to get what they think is rightfully theirs.

$30 million though? Crikey.

And it seems it isn’t just hecklerspray that thinks the figure is a bit – shall we say – ‘excessive’. In a post on the official 30 Seconds to Mars forum, Jared wrote these words with his fingers, and possibly toes:

“So, as you may have heard we are being sued by our former record company for the ridiculously oversized, totally unrealistic and pretty silly (but slightly clever) sum of $30,000,000. Insane? Yea that’s what we said too.”

But what was the actual story behind it? Well, Messr Leto wasn’t about to leave his legion of 14-year-old female fans in the lurch when it came to the legalese, going on in the post:

“We had been signed to our record contract for nine years. Basically, under California law, where we live and signed our deal, one cannot be bound to a contract for more than seven years. This is widely known by all the record companies and has been for years. In fact, so aware of it are they that they desperately try to make deals outside of California whenever possible. It is a law that protects people from lengthy, unfair, career-spanning contracts. This law also gave us the legal right to explore other possible opportunities.”

And not one to leave it with a short, concise explanation of the matter – nor, seemingly, one to avoid underhanded bitchy comments, that one from Fight Club went on about a feud with more point than his last one:

“Yes we have been sued by EMI. But NOT for failing to deliver music or for ‘quitting.’ We have been sued by the corporation quite simply because roughly 45 days ago we exercised our legal right to terminate our old, out of date contract, which, according to the law is null and void. We terminated for a number of reasons, which we won’t go into here (we’d rather not air any dirty laundry) but basically our representatives could not get EMI to agree to make a fair and reasonable deal.”

To be fair, being sued for $30 million is probably a good enough reason to get at least a bit bitchy, and it’s the kind of thing that will make you feel as depressed as if you’ve been forced to sit and watch Requiem for a Dream 17 times in a row. Yes – that bad. So it is understandable that some complaints would be aired.

Shockingly enough, EMI (the group that owns Virgin Records) countered with some statementage of their own, offering these nuggets up:

“EMI’s relationship with 30STM has been extremely rewarding and successful for both the band and the company. The hard work of EMI’s global team and of the band has resulted in sales of three million albums and singles, multiple awards and a growing, global fan base.”

To be honest, you’d think that if they were suing a band for such an incredible amount of money they’d bother to write the full name out, not abbreviate it like it would take too much of their valuable lawsuit time up. Anyway, it went from amicable and half-written to some of the usual ‘we’re not an evil major label, honestly’ gubbins:

“However, we have been forced to take procedural, legal steps in order to protect EMI’s investment and rights during contract renegotiations initiated by the band and management. We hope to resolve these matters amicably and put them behind us so we can continue working in partnership with the band to take them to even greater levels of success.”

While it isn’t very fair for a band to go back on a contractual obligation, it does feel a bit like EMI are saying ‘either they come back to us and release more albums, thus making us money, or we get $30 million out of them anyway. Not like we’re trying to hold them hostage or anything’. A bit, at least. We mean – he may have missed out an album, but he’s given his blood for this band – is that not worth anything?

Well, no, probably not. But still.

We’re not exactly fans of 30 Seconds to Mars at hecklerspray, nor do we care much about Jared Leto and his face (apart from that bit in Fight Club), but… well… thirty million dollars? Are they shitting well kidding?!

If EMI expected to make that much money from a new album then they either have a severely skewed view of the world or there are far more fools with no taste buying music in this world than we originally thought.