Cher Lloyd, you remember her don’t you? She’s that one what didn’t win the X Factor and is still famous for some reason despite not having actually done anything to earn it.

Well, she’s back in the news this week after accusing new X Factor judge Tulisa off of the N-Dubz of secretly being a hermaphrodite.

Lloyd was quoted as saying that Contos… Contstav… Tulisa has, “got balls,” a revelation that is sure to send the N-Dubz star nuts.

The N-Dubz and X Factor management teams had, until now, done a remarkable job keeping Tulisa’s alleged acorns under wraps and, with the death of the News of the World, may have thought that said balls would never have seen the light of day.

One possible reason for the slip could be that Cher Lloyd has just released her debut single, the bizarrely titled Swagger Jagger, and needed to stir up a bit of controversy so that people remember who she is.

But why pick on poor, sweet Tulisa, what has she ever done eh? Apart from steal (Lloyd’s X Factor mentor) Cheryl Cole’s job and singlehandedly destroy her life, forcing our Chezza to reconcile with former hubby and renowned love rat/careless pellet gun owner, Ashley.

Tulisa has yet to react to Lloyd’s allegation, which is a shame, as we here at hecklerspray do love it when Tulisa goes off on one of her, allegedly testosterone fuelled, rants.

We’ll all just have to wait and see whether or not Tulisa’s N-Dublets ever get revealed to the world, but we can’t help but think that if they do get some airtime on the X-Factor we’ll immediately be asked which one we want to vote off, resulting in the most awkward and yet oddly compelling sing off in the history of TV talent shows.

Wait, we’ve got the wrong end of the stick here, haven’t we?

Balls.

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Cheryl Cole must be practising her best disappointed / all out of love face in the mirror again, because on again, off again, on again, off again, on again (off again?) ex-husband Ashley Cole is facing fresh allegation that as a single man he has slept with a lady or two, you know, cause he likes women and their vaginas.

After their divorce last year Cheryl has been linked to bleached blonde, male dancer Derek Hough (it might be fair to say she has a type) while Ashley has been free to run around playing with his phone and shooting work experience boys with air rifles. How manly of him.

It must have been this display of pure brute macho-ism that attracted Chezza back to Ashley, she is, after all, from Newcastle; and naturally the papers have been rife with rumours of weddings and babies and other things to distract people from the fact that golden girl Cheryl has been sacked from not one, but two major television shows in the space of a week.

So it should come to the surprise of no one that Ashley seems to have been scoring on and off the pitch… with ladies… you know, women, with breasts and female reproductive organs, just the way he likes them; and not been faithful to his ex wife, the naughty ladies man that he is.

One of the said vagina owners, model Colette McBarron, is believed to have been trying desperately to avoid been ousted as one of Ashley’s conquests. You know how those buxom blonde models hate being linked to Premiership footballers, nightmare, eh?

According to the Sun, the “Irish babe” has decided to “wait and see what happens” while more ladies come forward saying Ashley has scored in their goal. Goal meaning vagina. ‘Cos he likes those.

One source has said: “There are so many rumours flying around about Ashley – she can only keep her head down and avoid the publicity.”

Collette now joins the esteemed club of young women Ashley has ravaged, including air hostess Kerry Meades and US model Jessyca Rayanne, all of whom have said to they had flings with Ashley shortly before Mr & Mrs Cole are said to have got back together at her 28th birthday party earlier this month.

Oh Ashley, you crazy vagina loving ladies man, what will you get up to next? More vagina we assume. What a card.

This was an article by Ruairidh Pritchard who, if he survives the Chinese Water Torture that we’re currently subjecting him to, might be doing some more work for us.

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Louis Walsh. He’s been on the brink of a nervous breakdown since the last series of The X Factor when he got spectacularly angry about the existence of the film, Gummo. We’ve assumed that he’s been going under thanks to working with Jedward.

That or some suffocating closeting he’s imposed on himself surrounding rumours of his sexuality.

And the latest Louis Walsh’s Brain Is About To Completely Capsize tale surrounds his wanting to end his life. Suicide, obviously, is utterly hilarious and should be mocked at every noose, pill bottle and 2 bar heater dropped in the bath water.

What nearly pushed Louis into the abyss is the recent accusation from the marvellously monickered Leonard Watters, who said that the  X Factor judge groped him one on the nuts in the latrines of a Dublin nightclub. If you didn’t know, it turns out Watters was making it up and got himself prosecuted for making false claims.

Not that this made Louis feel much better. Even after his name was cleared, he stared at himself in the mirror, pulled down on his sagging face and thought ‘I think I’ll let this ordeal stay with me for the duration of my life’.

He melodramatically says:

“I’ve changed forever. This has made me physically ill. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I’ve lost so much weight that my suits don’t even fit me anymore. I can’t even get a proper night’s sleep, so I’m exhausted. When I drift off I suddenly wake up in a blind panic. The panic attacks are awful. I have to calm myself down and say, ‘It’s over, I’m going to be OK’.”

As many of you will know, there is no darkness that can cloud a soul like the one that manifests itself in the form of a cheap suit that is suddenly too big for you. The loose waistband, pulled taut, acts as a very real metaphor for the yawning chasm in your heart… that clawing emptiness that may never be filled.

Unless you get some pies in you.

On the night of the allegations, he thought about topping his little self:

“I locked myself in my hotel room in London. I wouldn’t speak to anyone … I was devastated. That night in the Kensington Hotel I did think about a way out. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever considered ending it. I was serious. Even today I’m still a shell of my former self. The pressures this business brings are immense. With good you get bad so I’m going to be suspicious of everyone I meet now. I have good days and bad days. I’m questioning everything now. I think time will heal it all right but I’ll never be me, the old person that I was, ever again.”

So is the claptrap of yore gone? Are we about to see a new, reserved, hollowed out husk compared to the old Louis who would open his mouth without thinking when talking about things that don’t concern him?

Yeah. Right. Literally hours after showing everyone where he would slit his wrists, if he meant it, Walsh promptly went about gossiping about Cheryl Cole’s lovelife.

Louis says, seemingly forgetting the enveloping darkness in his heart:

“I knew she would get back with Ashley. I think he loves her and she loves him. I think they will be happy. If they got married again I’d be at the wedding.”

Unless you chuck yourself off a motorway bridge, right?

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Worrying reports are flooding into the bedsit that Girls Aloud and (apparently) solo star Kimberley Walsh has managed to misplace long-time friend and band-mate Cheryl Cole while on holiday in America. News in recent weeks has suggested that Cheryl is trying to get her PR disaster of a career back on track but this latest navigational disaster could be the death-knell in the coffin of Chezza’s dreams of cracking America.

Cole and ‘Bez Friend Fo’evvvvaaaaa’ Kimberley Walsh had been enjoying a short holiday in Los Angeles for the past week but concerns have been raised when Walsh was seen at London’s Heathrow airport Arrivals area without her former band-mate.

The pair had been enjoying nights out in Hollywood with Cheryl’s brother Garry, not to mention hooking up with Dancing With The Stars professional, Derek Hough. We’re not quite sure what ‘hooking up’ means in this context but if it transpires that anyhting has happened to the Geordie songstress and Will.I.Am fancier then he will have to numero uno on the list of suspects.

Kimberley appears to have misplaced her friend and is now back home, leaving Cheryl lost and alone Stateside. hecklerspray have some ideas where she might be:

1. Stalking Simon Cowell

It’s a well-known facLot now that Cheryl’s less than graceful exit from the US version of X Factor was a stumbling block in her career. However, there is still a great deal that is not known about the reasons behind her exit from the show. Did she fall out with Paula Abdul and perhaps call her a miserable old single has-been? Probably. That won’t stop her following Simon Cowell around, trying desperately to curry favour though, will it?

2. Sitting in Will.I.Am’s Basement

It’s no secret that Mr I.Am is a big fan of the people’s princess, Mrs Cole. Perhaps these rumours of her reuniting with estranged husband Ashley have been enough to force the Black Eyed Pea’s hand in the matter. After all, with the dreadful, tuneless berks taking a break for a while, he’s going to be looking for something to do.

We mean musically, obviously. Far be it for people as depraved as ourselves to accuse Mr I.Am of being some kind of sexual deviant.

3. Taking Elocution Lessons

It is speculated that not only did Cole fall out with the miserable, single has-been Paula Abdul but American audiences found her lilting Geordie tones quite difficult to follow. This is despite the fact that Steve Jones, who is famously Welsh and speaks like an alligator with an underbite, has been hired to present the show.

So, of course, there are rumours floating around that Cheryl is trying to perfect a lovely, dulcet Harry Secombe tone for her next American job.

4. Writing for hecklerspray

Look at you, sitting there in disbelief. Who’s to say that Cheryl doesn’t already write for us? You honestly thought that Matthew Laidlow was a real person? You couldn’t be more wrong. He is, in fact, Cheryl Cole writing under a pseudonym and giving her celebrity rivals ‘what for’. You go, “Matthew Laidlow”!

Of course, she could just be relaxing on the beach somewhere far away from the long lens of the paparazzi. You know… like the moon or something.

Many of the UK’s “press outlets” have been reporting the reunion of Cheryl “Beat up a woman in a toilet” Cole and Ashley “shot a work experience kid with an air gun” Cole today. This is, to the tabloids, a moment on par with the a renunion of Big Ears from Noddy & the ‘Queen of Hearts’. To readers of The Sun, that’s pretty much what this is.

Of course, hecklerspray would be remiss in its duty as the last bastion of celebrity “commentators” if we didn’t scream our glassy-eyed opinion straight down the smoking barrel of the internet straight into the faces of people who either adore the couple on a level that is painful and embarrassing or hate them in equal measure. You might be wondering what our collective opinion of the couple is; wonder on readers. Wonder on.

With newspaper reports suggesting that Cheryl will walk down the aisle with Ashley once again, speculation has surfaced as to what their intentions are.

With Cheryl’s embarrassing, potentially career harming and fundamentally random removal from the X Factor USA judging panel has seen her profile slip slightly and as for Cashley (sorry… Ashley), the last time he made it into a glossy magazine it was when rumours abounded the last time they were supposed to be getting back together.

Subsequently, more rumours about the couple have surfaced revealing that they want to start a family within the next two years as well as an interview with Mister Cole claiming that people should judge him as a footballer and not on the spurious stories about his private life. That is the sign of a man who would love people to care enough about him to read the spurious reports about his private life.

According to the Sun, the couple, who reportedly spent the whole weekend together, have told friends of their plans to be pregnant between now and 2013. However, it appears as though Cheryl and Ashley are the only ones who are excited about their new(ish) life together after Cheryl’s mum and Girls Aloud band mates, Nicole Roberts and Kimberly Walsh, expressed their reservations.

A source, invented by the tabloids to shift more of their terrible rags, revealed:

“Cheryl’s bloody-minded and has made her decision. Her pals have told her, but she’s been stubborn. She just wants to be happy again.”

Here at hecklerspray, we can’t wait to hear that Cheryl’s pregnant- there’s nothing we like more than picking on a pregnant woman- but perhaps Ashley will suggest they use a surrogate mother that he ‘prepared earlier’?

The organisers of Hard Rock Calling, that sort of festival like thing that happens in Hyde Park every summer that isn’t the O2 Wireless festival, have decided that former Fall Out Boy bassist and pioneer of the musical equivalent of object dá, Pete Wentz, is a suitable choice for a battle of the bands judge.

Right? RIGHT?

If you’re lucky enough to have forgotten the mid noughties, here’s a crash course in all things Pete Wentz:

• He was in an emo band called Fall Out Boy who got big on the back of the success of auditory assassins My Chemical Romance.
• He had/has a stupid fringe and a fondness for guyliner.
• He was once caught doing an Ashley Cole after a fan posted a picture of his tattooed tallywhacker on the internet and…
• He’s married to Ashlee Simpson, a woman so pathetic she continues to live in the shadow of America’s answer to Kerry Katona, her older sister Jessica Simpson.

That’s right, at one point in time, Pete Wentz was related by marriage to Nick Lachey.

ROCKNFUGGINROLL!

The heats Wentz will be judging are taking place in Hard Rock Cafes all over the world, because being alternative and sticking it to the man is like totally all about being a shameless corporate whore nowadays, duh!

The budding bands that Wentz will cast his three eyes over are battling it out to see who gets to take to the stage in Hyde Park, in front of literally some people, and belt out their best Aerosmith covers as bottles of piss whip past their heads and rain pours down on them from the cold, grey London skies.

We here at hecklerspray aren’t really ones for nurturing talent, we prefer to call people names and giggle amongst ourselves, but even so we can’t honestly see what would make anyone desperate enough to have Pete Wentz, a man so incredibly annoying and pointless that even Bono thinks it’s a bit much, judge their musical ability. Unless they’re still about 12 years old and think that Wentz is OMG LIKE SO TOTALLY BUFF YEH!

Anyway, congratulations Hard Rock Calling, whatever credibility you had left after changing your name to that of an overpriced theme restaurant has just evaporated.

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The past 12 months has been weird for Cheryl Cole. She’s got malaria, which no-one ever gets because it’s a bloody tropical disease… and she got divorced from her husband… which in fairness, is very common in this country.

Neither of these things are particularly pleasant to go through, so when prodded and poked by a man with a face that looks like it is made from suet, there’s a good chance all the pain and anguish will rise up through your eye-sockets.

And that’s exactly what happened when Cheryl did an interview on TV show, Piers Morgan’s Life Stories.

If that isn’t enough, she’s got to put up with Louis Walsh every bloody week. We’ll let you decide who is the little bitch of the two.

But poor ol’ Cheryl has been left crushed by Ashley Cole and his wandering genitals. The popster told Piers Morgan, increasing looking like a pillow case with a face drawn on it, that her split from England footballer had left her heartbroken.

Not literally. That’s a different thing called ‘a heart attack’.

She managed to keep pretty quiet about the whole split while it was going on, which some may suggest is ‘dignified’. Others may proffer that the reason she kept quiet is because she was holding out for the biggest payout on the interview.

She’s now ready to talk and we’ll get to see the tiny tears on Life Stories which will air on October 23rd.

She explained:

“Looking back on it, I feel numb. We had a great marriage and a fantastic wedding day but I don’t know where it went wrong. To this day I still question that.”

Maybe Ashley Cole is so toxic that when you fall in love with him, you catch a disease like malaria.

What actually happened was that she got it from a trip to Tanzania and a mosquito decided that she looked like she might be a good person to bite.

Of course, the mosquito in question went onto become something of a celebrity in Africa, where it now has it’s own chatshow where it gurgling the blood of television stars and pulls funny faces before delivering the punchline “this show sucks!”

Melodramatically, Cole said that she felt so ill as a result of the disease that she thought she was going to die.

She said:

“It was touch and go for 24 hours. It was serious. I actually thought I was going to die.

“All I thought was that if I was going to die, please let it be soon.”

No comment.

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Hello, Mister Hecklerspray.

I went to London and am on my way back to my house from London station. When I was in London I saw the sights and went to some shops and ate some nice food. When I was on Columbia Road looking at shops that sold things for my house, I saw Danny Wallace. He had strange eyebrows. Also, when we went to Harrods I saw their Christmas teddy bear and a pair of philandering adulterers.

I had a lovely time in London.

From,

Michael. xx

Obviously my writing skills have improved enough during the course of this train journey to allow me to tell you the story of my encounter with a pair of premiership footballers who are well known both for their abilities on the field, the obscene amount of money that they get paid to stand in front of around 43,000 people complaining that their payment is not defence enough against the possibility of injury and intrusion into their private lives of the braying mob of paparazzi who would pursue them the length and breadth of the country waiting for them to look a bit drunk or smack a dog across the face with a delicatessen menu.

When I saw these bastions of civilised society strolling around the plush surroundings of Harrods department store in London’s upmarket Knightsbridge (I didn’t buy anything- you think I’m made of money?), my eyes were not drawn by their surprising height but more by the group of suited ‘minders’ whose primary role it was to stop people looking in the baskets of the two highly-paid gentlemen strolling the sprawling corridors of this lavish department store. A secondary role of their’s is clearly to carry said baskets. That’s the way forward. Hard men to carry a little basket of your expensive shopping.

Straight after seeing them walk away with their Secret Service-esque personal shoppers I did what any sensible person would do. I tweeted about it.

“Just saw John Terry & Ashley Cole in Harrods. Could write an Opus of the things I should have said to them but didn’t.”

Almost immediately the line came through from Hecklerspray HQ.

“Do it.”

I’d be remiss in my duty as one of Hecklerspray’s newest contributors if I didn’t follow orders and come up with at least a few hilarious things that I should have said to these tabloid targets. Naturally I would never say these things in real life, primarily because their ‘personal shoppers’ looked like they could punch a hole in the fabric of space-time and if they can do that to a scientific construct then just imagine the damage they could do to my face.

If I approached them, ostensibly to get them to sign a couple of autographs I could have gone for the classic “footballers are idiots” angle. “John! Ashley! Could you sign this, please?! Seriously; just an ‘X’ would be fine. Perhaps Ashley might have managed to drag a pen across the paper, spelling out the word ‘sue’.

Why not dress up like a powerful political figure and approach them with the promise of large wads of cash to paid in one solid instalment, airlifted to their lavish homes by five chinook helicopters. Surely the lure of having a “big flying house”, as Cole once (didn’t) put it, arriving at your house would be enough for any child-brained footballer to give up enough personal secrets for me to make a tidy sum by selling it to some foetid tabloid with less eye for a good story than Jeffrey Archer’s publisher. That could have worked but unfortunately I didn’t have my trusty tea-towel and rubber-band combo on me at the time.

Then there was the masterstroke. The one that really hit me square between the legs like an unwarranted groping from Marlon King (a man who is not quite as rapey as Mike Tyson but is also infinitely less talented in his chosen field); why didn’t I ask them about what they’re good at? Their talent! Their undoubted ability with balls? Their unshaking desire to be at the very top of their game in one of the greatest football leagues on earth? No. Of course not. For god’s sake, I write for Hecklerspray.

I wish I had taken my girlfriend by the hand and taken her forward to Cole & Terry and asked them for advice. I’m quite self-destructive and have been looking to cheat on my girlfriend for some time now. The only thing is that my self-destructive, almost masochistic nature means that I’m itching to get caught. Now, if there’s two men who are better to teach me the best way to get caught cheating by a partner, it’s got to be Mr Terry & Mr Cole. Unfortunately I don’t have any close friends with supermodel girlfriends but let’s face it. I just want to get caught.*

Of course I didn’t. I just stood there looking at them, trying to pass it off as if I’d barely noticed them. Trying to stop my tongue lolling out with sheer flabberghasted joy at seeing two well-paid men walk through a shop that was expressly designed for well-paid people to walk about guffawing at the the Asda-price alternatives that they’d looked up on their diamond-encrusted iPhones. In truth it’s little wonder that I didn’t say anything to them at the time; I was too busy keeping myself from attempting (no doubt unsuccessfully) to kick their faces off.

*That’s expressly not true. Just to stop the adoring emails that you’ll undoubtedly be sending me.

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Ashley Cole has more than his fair share of problems at the moment. There’s his recent divorce from Cheryl Cole.

There’s that ‘I hate England’ text message. There’s the fact that his place in the World Cup squad could have been filled by a blind toddler and nobody would have really noticed any different. There’s the fact that, by all accounts, he seems like a bit of a turd. The list goes on.So Ashley Cole needs cheering up. Perhaps someone could publicly describe sex with him in unnecessary detail. That’d help. Obviously everyone reading would end up crying and pooing and weeing and puking in an involuntary display of profound disgust, but if it makes Ashley happy again, so be it.

What? Someone has described sex with him? Hold on, we feel a cry and a poo and a wee and a puke coming on.

You might look at Ashley Cole and see an ungrateful love-rat millionaire who somehow manages to typify every single thing that’s wrong with modern football. But you’re wrong. In fact, Ashley Cole is an ungrateful love-rat millionaire who somehow manages to typify every single thing that’s wrong with modern football and is quite good at sex according to a slapper.

Although previous accounts of Ashley Cole’s sexual ability have been full of phrases like ‘really drunk’, ‘chain-smoking’ and ‘then he stopped, vomited all over my face and torso three or four times, and then carried on’, Ashley’s current squeeze – lapdancer Sarah Purnell – says that he’s actually tip-top in the sack. We’re going to quote her now. We cannot be held responsible for any nausea, loss of eyesight, spontaneous nosebleeds, hair loss, diarrhoea, permanent lack of libido or actual physical death you may develop after reading the next paragraph. MTV reports:

Sarah Purnell has revealed that Ashley is ‘brilliant in bed.’ Purnell told Star magazine: “He was perfect. it was fun. I was happy with everything… although normally I believe on going on dates before sleeping with someone if you think they will be long term… Ashley is so different to the man you see in the papers. They make out his is a complete slut-butt, but I think he is the opposite.”

Actually, we agree with Sarah here. Who’s to say that Ashley Cole is a slut-butt? Just because his wife left him when he had drunken, vomit-soaked sex with a couple of women behind her back, and because he then marked the divorce by immediately shagging a lapdancer that he’d just met, it doesn’t mean he’s anything like a slut-butt. Unless you like judging people based on their consistent behaviour, that is, in which case there’s a slight chance he might be.

Anyway, sorry for putting you off all food forever. We did warn you.

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Cheryl Cole and Cheryl Tweedy. Two completely different women. Cheryl Cole is a glamorous millionaire pop star.

Cheryl Tweedy beats up black cleaners in toilets. Cheryl Cole is a beloved judge on the country’s most-watched singing competition. Cheryl Tweedy beats up black cleaners in toilets. Cheryl Cole has a number of lucrative endorsement deals and is teetering on the brink of breaking America. Cheryl Tweedy beats up black cleaners in toilets.

Now that she’s fully divorced, Cheryl Cole has decided that she wants to be known as Cheryl Tweedy again from now on. What we’re basically saying is that if you’re a black cleaner, you should probably invest in some mace or a truncheon or something.

Now that they’re divorced, Cheryl and Ashley Cole are free to do whatever they want with their lives. For Ashley Cole, this means he can drunkenly vomit in the face of as many sexual partners as he pleases without fear of reprisal. But for Cheryl Cole, it means something else. That’s right, Cheryl Cole is dead. Well not dead, but she’s changed her identity. Well, she hasn’t changed her identity, but her surname is slightly different. That’s essentially the crux of this entire story – Cheryl Cole’s surname is slightly different.

According to reports, Simon Cowell has started to introduce Cheryl in X Factor auditions using her maiden name. The Sun reports:

At Monday’s London auditions, Simon jumped the gun and introduced her by saying: “And this is Cheryl . . . Tweedy.” A witness said the audience were “stunned”, adding: “Cheryl’s face didn’t give much away. Simon was sort of joshing but she didn’t laugh or look annoyed.”

And Cheryl Cole – sorry, Cheryl Tweedy – is serious about the name-change. Not only will she be referred to as Cheryl Tweedy from now on, but she’s also having a ‘Mrs C’ tattoo lasered off her neck and every single advert, poster, TV show and CD bearing the name Cheryl Cole will be seized by authorities and burnt. What? That last bit is simply a perverse wish-fulfilment fantasy on our part? That’s a disappointment.

Still, good luck with the name-change, Cheryl. We’re sure that, with hard work and an expensive publicity campaign behind you, it’s going to be at least as successful as when Mel B changed her name to Mel G for about a fortnight in 1998 once.

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Badly-done-to millionaire footballer Ashley Cole was tonight widely reported as telling anyone who will listen that he feels ‘betrayed’ by nation’s sweetheart and soon-to-be ex-wife Cheryl.

According to unconfirmed sources, Ashley feels the singer/talent-show judge has been ‘stringing him along’ whilst he picks up the pieces from the entirely unfair coverage he has received after apparently having sex with a series of slappers so hideous he actually vomited on them.

These incidents may have been embarrassing for the talented ball-kicker. But now he has to face the public humiliation of his estranged wife inviting the male ‘dancer’ and definite heterosexual Derek Hough to his former home for a few days and ‘tarnishing’ the building forever.<
In an attempt to garner non-existent public sympathy, Ashley has – according to a friend of the singers – been ‘constantly texting her nasty messages, accusing her of making a fool of him’.

Cheryl Cole, who remained silent as it emerged in the press that her husband was sending picture messages of himself so eye-achingly unattractive they would turn gay men straight to anyone fool enough to want to see them, has maintained a dignified PR embargo.

However, Ashley – the colossal div and all-round imbecile – is openly ‘dating’ a Cheryl Cole looky-likey LAPDANCER, according to various news sources. Despite the fact that he is still officially married. Nice move.

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Cheryl Cole has made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t ever want to be reminded about Ashley Cole again.

That means no football talk. It also means that, from now on, the song Fight For This Love will now only be referred to as Bite Off This Glove. And under no circumstances whatsoever will Cheryl Cole ever book an appointment with a naked hairdresser who happens to be covered in wads of Ashley’s post-coital vomit. They’re Cheryl’s golden rules, and she’s sticking by them.

Oh, and also Cheryl has decided to give away all of the gifts that Ashley Cole ever gave to her. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, the vague and unspoken possibility of contracting chlamydia – Cheryl Cole has got rid of all of them.

Now that Cheryl Cole and Ashley Cole have split up for good, it’s time for them both to pick up the pieces. Ashley Cole has got the perfect shot at redemption – in less than a fortnight he has the chance to become the best England player ever to get relentlessly booed by his own supporters whenever he so much as looks at the ball at the World Cup.

And for Cheryl Cole, it’s clearly time for her to move on. She picked up a lot of tags during her marriage to Ashley Cole – first she was a gold-digger, then she was an out-of-touch image-obsessed WAG, and then finally she became the put-upon wife who buried her head in the sand whenever anyone mentioned her husband’s cheating ways. But now it’s time for Cheryl Cole to ditch those tags. She wants to shed all of her marital baggage and revert to being that innocent girl who we all fell in love with for screaming a torrent of racist abuse while trying to kick a Nigerian toilet attendant’s head off.

How does she plan to do that? Simple – by giving a bunch of necklaces and stuff to her mum. The Daily Mail reports:

The X Factor judge has apparently dished out unwanted necklaces, bracelets and earrings to friends and mother Joan. An insider said: ‘Cheryl has had a massive clear-out, like anyone would after a break-up. She has closed that chapter of her life so she wants rid of a lot things they have accumulated.’

That makes sense. After all, Cheryl Cole has made it clear that she wants nothing more to do with Ashley Cole, and offloading jewellery is the best way to achieve that. Now Cheryl Cole has nothing left to remind her of her husband. Nothing at all. Zip. Apart from her own surname, obviously. And the empty feeling that she gets when a sexual partner doesn’t copiously vomit all over her at the point of ejaculation. Never mind. She’ll get over it.

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Good news boys – Cheryl Cole is single again! Bad news girls – Ashley Cole will probably try to finger you in a club soon!

It’s all over. Months after the latest revelation that Ashley Cole had been cheating on Cheryl Cole, and years after the first revelation that Ashley Cole had been cheating on Cheryl Cole, and weeks after everyone stopped caring about either of them, it’s happened. Cheryl Cole has begun divorce proceedings against Ashley Cole.

You might think that this is sad news – after all, the end of a marriage is never time for celebration – but let’s look on the bright side here. This news means that a) Cheryl Cole is now free to move on with her life and b) we can all blame Ashley Cole when England arses everything up at the World Cup now. Yippee.

Their marriage may have been doomed from the start, but at least Cheryl Cole and Ashley Cole can look back on their mangled wreckage of a union and realise that they’ve both grown as people. Ashley Cole, for example, has realised that he doesn’t need the mansion and the popstar wife and all the other trappings of being a premiership footballer – just give him a dirty-looking hairdresser that he can have drunken sex with and then immediately vomit over, and he’s got everything he needs.

And Cheryl Cole has realised that she’s a shit fortune teller. Writing and releasing a song called Fight For This Love weeks before her separation? We can’t wait to hear her next album – we hear it’s full of songs called things like I Don’t Think Gordon Brown Has Anything To Worry About and No, Trust Me, There Will Never Be Any Form Of Environmental Disaster In The Gulf Of Mexico During Our Lifetime.

But still, the main thing is that it’s over. According to reports, Cheryl Cole has finally started divorce proceedings against Ashley Cole. ITN reports:

It is reported Cheryl Cole has begun divorce proceedings against her footballer husband Ashley Cole. The Girls Aloud singer apparently launched the action on Tuesday and it is believed she is keen for a quickie divorce. According to reports The X Factor judge does not want Cole distracted as England prepare for the World Cup.

News of the divorce is sad, but at least there are no children involved. True, Ashley Cole appears to have the mental capacity of a toddler and Cheryl Cole looks like a child’s doll – specifically a limited edition Bratz doll that’s been modelled on a mid-range street prostitute – but that doesn’t count.

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We feel like we’ve been lied to. Like everyone else we got caught up in the hype of Cheryl Cole mania.

If there was a chance to buy a special edition of her album, or a branded calendar or pencil case, we’d do it. But not sparkly pink tops. We’re not strange. Anyway saddens us when our manufactured idols don’t keep their promises.

As all proper music fans know, Cheryl Cole told us to Fight For This Love and remain strong when shit gets rough and rocky. True to her world, Cheryl stuck by her man when he cheated on her with a ropey-looking hairdresser. Now more allegations have surfaced that loveable goon Ashley Cole has cheated again. Did Cheryl fight for love again? Apparently not, as she has shown Ashley the red card. Based on her previous convictions, we’ll assume she physically fought for his love after a Stella binge.

With stories circulating in the press for weeks about Ashley Cole’s alleged extramarital affairs, it was only a matter of time before Cheryl Cole decided to bin him. After all, Cheryl has been dubbed the nation’s sweetheart following her work with Girls Aloud, televised karaoke competitions and shampoo adverts. Compare that to Ashley, a man who was once quoted as saying:

“I couldn’t believe it when they weren’t prepared to pay me £60,000 a week”.

Indeed, if we got offered less than £60K per week for kicking a football around, we’d be appalled too. Think about it – you get hot and sweaty, play in the mud and rain where you can get a cold and run the risk of falling over. No-one wants that.

With Cheryl Cole receiving the majority of the public sympathy, what is the best thing for her to do? Release a full-blown press statement and call Ashley a twat? Or make it an extravagant affair and launch a Q&A session the next day at your record label HQ? Well, Cheryl has done neither – instead she’s released a statement saying:

Cheryl asks the media to respect her privacy during this difficult time.

Oh dear. This, of course, will never happen – we can remember the couple happily flogging their wedding photos to glossy magazines. We can all gawp at their tacky ceremony featuring other cheating footballers like John Terry but where’s our special misery edition featuring the breakdown?

However, not everyone is on the side of Cheryl Cole. Some people believe Ashley deserves another crack at the whip. Now who could possibly comment on an issue so raw and tender? Relationship councillors? Jeremy Kyle? Don’t be daft, it’s none other than former Arsenal player Ian Wright who wrote in his Sun newspaper column:

“I know Ashley, and would like to see his marriage survive. I am sure ‘Brand Cheryl’ will be advising her to ditch the bloke immediately. But I would like them to give it one last go with a marriage counsellor. Some people will say he is a piece of s**t. Equally, there are two sides to every story. There have been two totally unrelated women who have said how intimate he was with them.”

Of course Ian Wright might have forgotten that over the last few weeks plenty of women have come out to say that Ashley Cole likes to put his balls into other people’s goals. This is unlike the soon-to-be Cheryl Tweedy, who has been successfully defending her own love box.

Bring on the onslaught of endless break-up coverage.

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Way aye man! You have to give it to Cheryl Cole – after forming Girls Aloud all those years ago, she has never been out of the public eye.

Keeping to her traditional Geordie roots, her early career was dogged by her old Saturday night ritual of having a pint and a fight. Though we don’t talk about that now. Remember, she’s a judge on X Factor and wears dresses that resemble something that Stevie Wonder would design.

Cheryl also has a blossoming solo career, which has spawned a number one single and album. Don’t go calling us super sleuths now, but we have an inkling that her song Fight For This Love may have been a reference to her husband, Ashley Cole. After an all-too public fiasco over a girl he allegedly shagged, the couple made up and things seemed totally rosy. Well, that’s until pictures of his knob ended up everywhere. Whoops.

Until recently, the only real problem that Cheryl Cole had to deal with was a strange argument with Lily Allen. That’s all been overshadowed by the exploits of Ashley Cole, though. It may come as a surprise to some people, but footballers aren’t always the most reliable and honest of folk. Given their stupidly high salaries, they do tend to disappear up their own egotistical arses, believing they can do anything and remain untouchable.

This theory didn’t quite work for Ashley Cole – not so long ago he was reportedly discovered to be scoring with someone who doesn’t quite have the glamour of his wife. Now known for being a footballer’s shag, hairdresser Aimee Watson was the girl who fell for Ashley so hard that she let him vomit on her mid-bonk. Classy.

We don’t know what kept Ashley and Cheryl together during this rocky patch. Perhaps it was true love or the opportunity to cash in on future photo shoots. Nevertheless, the couple patched everything up. Just before this recent accusation of cheating has broken out, Cheryl Cole was quoted as saying:

“You don’t have to just give up when two people who love each other have a few problems.”

For most people ‘a few problems’ might mean accidental losing the dog for a few days or running out of milk, not doing the dirty with someone else. So if you were dumb enough to get caught with another woman, would you be dumb enough to repeat your mistake? In Ashley Cole’s case, possibly yes. Last week it was widely reported that pictures of his cock somehow ended up in the hands of a glamour model. Ashley denies any wrongdoing, but now more pictures have turned up. Metro reports:

It now appears that the Chelsea ace also sent messages to a busty blonde secretary’s phone which will need some serious explaining as he only just about managed to wriggle out of the texts that were found on a topless model’s phone.

Can’t Ashley blame another Chelsea team-mate? After all, they seem to have a whole squad of serial shaggers, with captain John Terry also allegedly sticking his love rod in anything that’s available.

As for Cheryl Cole, who knows what’s going to happen. Though it probably means we’ll get another album from her full of tracks like My Husband Is A Prick and If You Look At Her, I’ll Rip Off Your Balls.

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