We’ve seen Scarlett Johansson’s boobs and bum after some clever-dick managed to breach her internet security and show the world her wares, or rather, the way she gives the people she’s boning and lob-on.

And for the most part, jealous woman spat ‘Well, they weren’t THAT good’.

But there’s more to Scarlett than all that. She’s brave. She refused to wear make-up in We Bought a Zoo, whatever the fresh shit that is! However, when she’s at home, she ain’t no slob. You won’t find her eating Variety Packs straight from the box in her stained tracksuit pants watching Cheaters. No way.

Talking to some idiots who asked some dumb question, she said:

“I always like to put a little bit of makeup on.”

“I’m not the kind of person that just slops around in sweatpants. I like to feel a little more together—you never know who you’re going to see out there!”

Sean Penn maybe? You gotta look half-decent if you’re going to hump his back like a randy poodle on a cushion, right?

“My absolute must-have is a really rich and vibrant red lipstick.”

“I always keep red lipstick in my bag because I never know when I might show up to an event and be completely underdressed. I feel like red lipstick is the cure-all for everything.”

Apart from the faux-outrage at leaked nude photographs, natch. Not only does she like red lippy, but she likes smearing honey all over her face like she’s some kind of mad bear.

Heard of a honey facial?

“I use Manuka honey. You just warm your face so that your pores are open (you can steam your face right after getting out of the shower), and then you just take a spoon and apply the honey directly to your face and leave it for 10 to 15 minutes.”

“It really adds an amazing glow and your skin is so soft afterwards. It pulls out the impurities.”

Please, dear hecklerspray reader, if you’re stupid enough to try and spread honey all over your face, please send us a photograph of yourself during the procedure.

Hopefully someone with throw a pillow’s worth of feathers at you too.

Boobs. Now we’ve got that out of the way, let us look at the rest of Scarlett Johansson’s tawdry existence on this wretched, awful speck of dust we call Earth as it revolves its tired way around this cold, unyielding solar system of ours.

Joy! Showbiz joy at that!

Anyway, now ScarJo has stopped dry-humping Sean Penn’s alleged leg, she be prowlin’ for another fancy mate. And remarkably, she’s chosen British musician Dan White, leaving us to assume that Dan White must be in a band with a very canny PR company working behind him or, indeed, Johansson has a penchant for derivative, tuneless indie schmindie.

Apparently, Scarlett met the guitarist from absolute unknowns, the Tribes, when she was shooting in London recently. No, she didn’t go ‘Falling Down’ on us – ‘shooting’ is slang for ‘making some stupid film or other’.

Not only did Johansson meet the guitarist – who knows G, Em, C AND D chords – but she also became gigantically smitten with him. They are, according to a source (PR company for the Tribes or whatever) determined to make their long distance relationship work.

A source told the Sunday Mirror:

‘They met in London recently. Scarlett was shooting the film Under The Skin in the UK and they were introduced at a club night in town.

‘They got on like a house on fire and Scarlett was into his band’s music. There was an instant connection. They’ve been seeing each other for a good few weeks. Dan’s proper happy about it- and what guy wouldn’t be? He already thinks the world of Scarlett.

‘Dan thinks she’s an amazing girl. They both have incredibly busy lives but are going to see where things go. Dan’s band Tribes is only just taking off and Scarlett has a lot of work on. So who knows?’

A ‘source’ there, trying to convince us that Dan from the Tribes has an ‘incredibly busy life’. What do they take us for? FOOLS, THAT’S WHAT.

Anyway, you’ll no doubt be wondering what the Tribes sound like, so here’s the presumably large membered Dan from the Tribes churning out the usual turgid, pedestrian indie rock cobblers in a video that is desperate to make them look cool.

All musicians are pricks. Just remember that.

Hey! You probably don’t remember this, but a while ago, Scarlett Johansson got her emails hacked and some nudey photos of her ended up online and a couple of people got to see her bottom and busters.

It probably didn’t seem like much of a big deal to you and you certainly wouldn’t have kept looking at the photos over and over again and, it goes without saying, that there is NO WAY you hoped more explicit shots ended up online… but to ScarJo, she was rather upset.

She cried so hard that the FBI came to help her wipe her tears and BINGO BANGO some chap got arrested, potentially leaving us with intentional photo leaks, which just aren’t as romantic are they?

Scarlett has only really talked about her marriage to Ryan Reynolds’ big stupid head in the press since then, but now, she’s all chat.

Appearing on The Late Show With David Letterman, Johansson described the leak of the pictures as “creepy”.

She said:

“Somebody stole my nudey photos and they were out there for all the world to see. Which was unfortunate really. It was quite shocking, it was extremely creepy… My password was constantly changing for months and months. And I kept thinking, ‘Why is my password changing?’”

Then, not realising how devastatingly handsome some people who work online are, she added:

“This guy was sitting there constantly, every 20 seconds, all pasty and pervy and weird. That’s the creepiest thing really.”

See, Johansson doesn’t feel the need to have any social networks on the go:

“I don’t have a Facebook or a Twitter account, and I don’t know how I feel about this idea of, ‘Now I’m eating dinner, and I want everyone to know that I’m having dinner at this time’. Or ‘I just mailed a letter and dropped off my kids’. That to me is a very strange phenomenon.

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less than have to continuously share details of my everyday life. I’m always surprised that certain actors have Twitter accounts.”

Maybe its because some are actually interesting people away from their work AND want to feel more approachable to us plebs, rather than hiding behind a velvet rope trying to shag Sean Penn’s leg?

No wonder everyone was so keen to see her leaked snaps, eh? Anyway, here is a video of her talking to Letterman and yes, her hair looks ridiculous. Gary Oldman would’ve been proud to sport that when he played Dracula.

Remember Tori Spelling? Her dad was a powerful TV man way back when (Love Boat and more) and magically, she ended up with a job on the original Beverley Hills 90210 and… uh… that’s about it.

Now we’ve proved she’s famous enough to talk about (ahem), would you like to see her breasts?

Ah. Ears pricked up now, huh? Well, over the jump, you’ll get to see (we’d better say ‘allegedly’ here) busters and, well, it’s not exactly in the manner which we’re all accustomed to. Get over the jump and see for yourself. Oh. And ‘salami’. Keep that in mind.

So, Tori Spelling’s husband – a man called Dean McDermott – posted a photograph on Twitter (where we got the image from) of his son with a rolling pin on his head. And a dirty spot on their chin too (full marks if that’s the first thing you looked at).

However, in the background, you’ll quite clearly see his wife’s breasts.

Just a quick reminder of salami.

Anyway, this is all a bit peculiar in the realm of leaked photographs of nudey celebrities, but we’re not ones to deny you your thrills, no matter how lame or not-particularly-famous they might be.

So there you have it. Salami.

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Doctor Who has always been a quirkfest, with machines that don’t work properly, stupidly long scarves, baddies that look like bits of tinfoil and something preposterously called ‘a sonic screwdriver’.

Really, The Doctor is, of all the heroes, the most nauseatingly twee. He’ll be playing a bloody ukulele next. A sonic ukulele no doubt.

Anyway, thank frig the Americans have shown up to save this sorry franchise with some razzle and dazzle. That’s right! America will be getting their hands on Doctor Who and making the explosions bigger, the Doctor more handsome, throwing in a sex scene or two and making him have a proper spaceship as opposed to a stupid telephone box. WHO EVEN USES TELEPHONE BOXES ANYMORE? HAVEN’T THE WRITERS HEARD OF MOBILE PHONES?

Apparently, the Time Lord will be Tinselised by Harry Potter director David Yates who is planning to build a movie franchise around the Dr. Who series.

Harry Potter? That was stupid tweedery as well! But fear not!

Yates says:

“We’re looking at writers now. We’re going to spend two to three years to get it right. It needs quite a radical transformation to take it into the bigger arena.”

A radical transformation! No we’re talking!

Let us hope that K-9 ends up looking like Mechagodzilla, the Tardis ends up looking like an X Wing Fighter, only with bigger guns and that all of the Time Lord’s stupid magic wands are replaced by an arsenal that would make this guy blush…

Basically, the above clip is what the Doctor Who movie should really be aiming for. Fine, fine, fine, the Doctor can still be a super-intelligent humanoid alien who travels through time being sarcastic to everyone, but lets get someone who looks like they could punch a giant hole in a truck!

Matt Smith is not that man. This is the role where Arnold Schwarzenegger can make his Hollywood comeback! It’s perfect! MAKE THIS HAPPEN HOLLYWOOD!

And we don’t have to worry about existing storylines and the like because Yates has promised that he’ll be ‘starting from scratch’.

We might even get some decent baddies too! DALEKS THAT DON’T NEED A DISABILITY RAMP TO GET UPSTAIRS! Oh man, Hollywood. You’re brilliant.

Like World War II, they have come to save our bacon once again!

(Keep Karen Gillan in though, eh?)

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If you’ve ever been told to stop making a boob of yourself, then usually you’re doing something stupid like stirring a cup of coffee with your wang. Just us? Anyway, in the case of Holly Madison, if she didn’t have her busters, her income would dry up faster than a cream-cracker in the Mojave Desert.

When Holly was growing up, she didn’t want to be a doctor. Instead, her dream was to walk around in hardly any clothing whilst her employee Hugh Hefner furiously rubbed his thighs so much that his shrivelled love stick would get a friction burn.

Unless she has a fetish for pensioners, Holly Madison was one of Hefner’s many paid girlfriends, but now she’s free from wrinkled clutches, she’s being her own woman! Sadly, feminists will be dismayed to hear that she still requires her chest to get through life and has just taken out an insurance plan on her knockers.

Not many people will have had the opportunity to feel a Playboy playmates bosom, but because we vaguely care about our readers, we know how to create an almost identical experience that’ll make you think you’re groping Holly Madison.

Just like most of the hecklerspray writers, we assume that you’re a pathetic and lonely individual who doesn’t have a willing girlfriend who’s prepared to help you out.

To recreate the strange situation of touching Madison’s bazangers, simply go to the kitchen and get two rubber plunger heads filled with pâté, shove them down your t-shirt and let the fondling commence.

You see, Holly Madison isn’t naturally gifted when it comes to the boob department. Overnight, a magic nork fairy didn’t magically enhance her. Instead, she plumped up to a D-cup from an A-cup all thanks to the wonders of silicon. Effectively, all those provocative pictures she’s the star of are making her look like a walking portfolio for the surgeons who sliced her upon and injected her with goo.

Knowing she’s made of plastic that could start to degrade, she said the following about her insurance:

“If anything happened to my boobs, I’d be out for a few months and I’d probably be out a million dollars. I thought I’d cover my assets.”

Cover her assets indeed!

Let’s face it, due to the nature of the business she’s in, covering her assets is the last thing she should do.

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Christina Hendricks is a real inspiration to allegedly real women. This is mainly because she’s got curves which are acceptably not-fat.

Disagree? Stop thinking about her large breasts then. Fact is, this pin-up for wimminkind is just as objectified as any other fancied human. No-one likes her for her brains or what she’d said. As far as history is concerned, she’s never spoken a word, ever. Still, at least she hates children. That’s right folks! You may think of her as being some kind of ace, hot-shot working single mother… but she’s not. You’re confusing the actress with the woman she plays in Mad Men. Stupid. She actually doesn’t rate kids that much, not that it’ll stop the press from asking her when she’s going to have babies. Us humans have a complete design flaw in our notion that this ailing planet actually needs more of us to colonize it. It doesn’t. That’s the last thing it needs. Asked when the babies are due, Hendricks says:

“Not anytime soon.”

And why is that? She’s too busy making loads of money and having a real cool time with her husband, actor Geoffrey Arend. So you lot can sit around talking about your curves with a baby draining your bap, ogling Christina Hendricks equally unobtainable figure thinking she’s more like you than that horrible Kate Moss or whoever. She’s not. Now go away.

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Lady GaGa is a creature that loves wearing outlandish outfits, but seemingly, feels so restricted by clothes in general that she’s more than willing to tear them off at any given point, ensuring that just about everyone has seen her boobies.

And she’s at it again, flopping them out all over her ivories.

That’s right bap-fans – GaGa is getting them out again, this time while singing a jazzy (read ‘Bublesque’) version of her latest record, You & I. And yes, you can be disappointed in it over the jump.

In the black and white video, GaGa promotes the MTV VMA 2011 thingy, which means she strips off for… ummm… some art-school reason or other.

She’s right to tart one off for MTV though as they’re looking after her by tickling her ego and nominating her for four VMAs, including Best Female Video and Best Video With a Message for Born This Way, as well as Best Art Direction and Best Choreography for Judas.

But you’re not interested in any of that are you?

You just want to see some famous breasts don’t you? Or indeed, you just want to watch it to feel disappointed or angry about the state of the world.

Well here you go then.

Boobs.

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Big news folks! Big, big news! Despite nobody wanting to hire her for acting jobs, Taylor Momsen has decided to announce to the three people who showed any interest that she’s going to quit being a thespian.

That’s like Simon Cowell announcing that he’s quitting dressing up as a dog on children’s television.

So obviously, Momsen (sounds like the Swedish equivalent of Mumsnet) is going to focus on her underwhelming music career, complete with all it’s forced shock tactics, like flashing her boobs and getting young women to strip for her during shows.

If you didn’t know – which you almost certainly didn’t – Taylor Mumsnet is the front thing for Pretty Reckless, and she much prefers thinking of herself  as some kind of rock ‘n’ roll outlaw, as opposed to some bratty actor that everyone hates.

Alas, the brat tag won’t be shaken off that easily, but at least she’s now operating in a world where it is more openly encouraged.

She says:

“I quit Gossip Girl and now tour and am in a band. That’s pretty much all I want to do. Hopefully, I’ll be able to only do that for the rest of my life.”

Quit Gossip Girl? If rumours are to be believed, she was actually asked to go on an “indefinite hiatus” from the show because everyone couldn’t bear to work with her and her tantrums.

One member of the Gossip Girl cast famously said:

“What a diva! She was pathetic, she couldn’t remember her lines, and she didn’t even have that many. I thought to myself, ‘Why are we being held hostage by this brat?’”

Taylor Momsen there, on how to ‘quit’ acting and forge an ill-advised music career.

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Here at hecklerspray we love to get involved in the great big sexism debate that rears its head every time Editor Mof slaps one of the female writers on the arse and tells them that they’re doing a great job “for a bird”. After that, the ensuing three day wildcat strike by our female staff will come to an end and everything will return to normal. Until next week.

It will come as no surprise to many of our readers that things don’t actually go that way at all and that it is the male writers who live in fear of their colleagues sexually harassing them while belting out ‘Swagger Jagger’ by Cher Lloyd at the tops of their voices. We don’t dare call it caterwauling because they can and will slash our faces.

The hecklerspray bedsit is a liberated feminist zone… of fear.

You’ve consumed Orangina before, of course. The sparkling orange flavour drink with bits in which, if served at the right temperature, can make you feel as cultured and French as a Parisian dandy but if served at half a degree more or less than it’s supposed to tastes like sucking dog vomit through an unwashed pair of underpants.

It’s been the market leader in sparkling orange flavour drinks with bits in for decades now but Club Orange has brought its irritatingly 80s-named product kicking and screaming to the Irish market (for some reason) in an effort to pull the market share from their orange-drink-with-bits-in rivals. Of course, they’ve taken a leaf out of the alcohol industry’s book and decided to market their product entirely at dribbling, masturbating fiends with less of a moral compass than Ashley Cole in a whorehouse.

It’s all about bits. Lady bits, to be precise.

You’ll remember last week when Badvertising focussed on the names that women might have for their vaginas. Unfortunately, there’s only one name in this entire sixty seconds used to describe both breasts, buttocks and vaginas. That’s bits. You see, the term ‘bits’ can be used to describe pretty much any erogenous zone on the body. ‘Bits’ can be anything really and these ladies seem to have the best bits going.

In case you haven’t watched the video yet it is one minute long. Sixty seconds. The best quickfire comedians could probably manage to squeeze (ha!) around twenty jokes into that short time but instead the people from Club Orange have gone for one joke, hammered home like a double homicide carried out with a mallet. They’ve murdered humour, they’ve murdered snappy advertising, they’ve actually managed to murder the spirit of innuendo and, somewhere out there, fourteen year old boys are bludgeoning another blunt instrument not even considering that they might want some sparkling orange flavour drink with bits in.

Unfortunately, in accentuating the ‘bits’ of the women in the ad (and by ‘bits’ we mean breasts, let’s not mince our words), they’ve made their ‘bits’ look worryingly artificial which makes a question nag at the back of the viewer’s mind. What are the orange bits in this sparkling orange flavour drink with bits in actually made out of?

Silicone.

The only way for Club Orange to redeem themselves in the eyes of right-thinking males and females who want to partake of an orange flavoured drink with bits in without having their sexuality either undermined or mocked would surely be to do a counter advert where men openly flaunt their ‘bits’ for the titillation of women. They won’t though and if they ever do, we want a cut for having the idea.

We also want Editor Mof to appear in it.

Our demands are very, very simple.

Nicki Minaj got everyone outraged when her left nipple leapt up and freed itself from the shackles of her clothing on Good Morning America. And now, former Destiny Child Kelly Rowland has joined the nipple slip club.

That’s right. Her boobs have popped out.

During a routine at a concert in West Orange, New Jersey, Rowland’s top – which was already pretty revealing (showing off some serious underboob) – rode up and unveiled her breasticles for everyone to see. And yes, you can gawp at them over the jump.

Rowland, in typical good mannered japery, managed to joke about the ‘wardrobe malfunction’ and took to twitter to make light of it.

“New Jersey crowd was amazing!! hope you enjoyed the show and didnt mind the peekaboo LOL!!! #kanyeshrug #stuffhappens”

The X Factor judge wins the Battle Of The Boobs with Minaj as she managed to get them both out whereas Minaj only managed a single areola.

It’s all very titillating.

Now here’s the video for you to look at. There’s definitely boobs in it, so invite your boss to go away if you want to peer at them listlessly.

Okay?

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Denise Richards is a woman created by teenage boy’s minds. That’s exactly why Charlie Sheen shacked up with her. And of course, what with Richards being the world’s greatest wit, she has a lot to say about her appearance.

Basically, she’d like to make the arrested developed among you excited by talking about her boobies and the fact she was a lesbian briefly.

Next, she’ll be talking about how much she likes playing video games and having sex with jobless layabouts with bad acne who live off 10p crisps.

A while back, Denise Richards wanted new boobs. So she packed herself off to the surgeon and guess what?! He went and gave her even bigger boobs! How astonishing!

She says:

“I was getting ready to film ‘Wild Things,’ and I didn’t want to get into a lawsuit with some plastic surgeon. It wasn’t right what the doctor did, but it is what it is.”

And so, she went and got a third boob job to sort them out. This was all a harrowing experience right? WRONG! That’s because she took her newer breasticles and wapped ‘em out in Playboy. Apart from the money and clearly being incredibly needy of attention, why would she do such a thing?

“I wanted to encourage women that it’s OK to embrace your sexuality even though you’re a mom. At the same time, I was having some problems in my marriage [to Charlie Sheen] and I didn’t feel sexy and felt I had to prove something.”

So remember kids: If you’re feeling unsexy, the best course of action is to flash everyone, okay? Good. Even if it is spurred on by being rejected by that dead-eyed bloke from Hot Shots. But no matter, because you can always have a lesbian affair with a famous woman.

“I’m going to name everyone in Hollywood! You would know who she is.”

“I just met her through friends and work and stuff… I was just curious. We were curious. We wanted to see… she was a girly-girl. She’s beautiful. She was more the aggressor.”

If you stick your head out of the window, close your eyes and listen very carefully, you’ll hear the sound of hundred of young men thudding to their knees in their sticky bedrooms.

You’re welcome.

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Taylor Momsen likes to shock people. She burned her dog’s nuts and flashed her barely legal boobies at everyone and generally likes to pass herself off as the more reckless, firmer Iggy Pop. Alas, her tunes are awful and it reeks of the worst type of attention seeking (as opposed to the fun kind where everyone feels like they’re in on the joke).

So what is she up to now?

Well, in a bid to make us all feel like vile perverts, she’s got a bunch of girls to strip their clothes off on-stage, and sadly, we’ve got the video too… which will probably get us all arrested for peddling underage filth. You should burn your hardrive after watching it… which you will… because you’re disgusting.

We previously reported that Momsen had been misbehaving in Barcelona (the kind of misbehaving that has one eye on the people watching, just make sure it has as wide an impact as possible), and now there’s a video you can watch which will make you feel really uncomfortable.

See, while Momsen is keen to get her things out for the enjoyment of young men and women with stains down their trousers, it feels a little creepy when she’s plucking young women from her audience and getting them to do it, especially when they’ve got the demeanour of someone who just bunked off Sunday School.

So in the video below, you’ll see Taylor – who was largely loathed on the set of Gossip Girl by her peers and colleagues – gyrating amongst a bunch of young ladies in their uniform black bras, before she kisses every single one of them.

And shame on you for watching it. And shame on us for sharing it.

We’re all desperately lonely.

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Yesterday, we completely forgot to write about Karen Gillan being found naked on the floor of a hotel in New York. Despite the fact it is quite literally yesterday’s news, everyone still seems to be talking about it today.

So of course, not wanting to miss out on that lovely traffic, invariably being swept up by slow-reacting newspapers that only grabbed a hold of the story today, we’re going to write about it as well.

So yeah. Karen Gillan. Naked. A Doctor Who companion with no clothes on, like that woman who got naked with a Dalek that one time.

So what’s the craic then? Well, as you will have read elsewhere, possibly countless times in a bid to see if anyone has any pictures of the event – which they don’t and never will – Gillan went on the lash in NYC and returned to her hotel rather worse for wear.

The Doctor Who companion was found whimpering on the floor without a stitch on, giving millions of lonely sci-fi loving onanists the opportunity to wank from the bank for the next decade or so.

She and Matt Smith had been on the razz and then it all went wrong for Karen. Karen who ended up naked. Naked on the floor. Whimpering. Whimpering like a wounded deer. A wounded, sexy deer. Your favourite fantasy, come to life. A guest at the hotel heard someone trying to open his door at 7am and it was Gillan with her boobs out. Her drunk boobs. Her drunk, science fiction boobs.

A guest says:

“I went to the peephole and looked out. I saw a man at the lift who was looking back at someone who was attempting to open my door… the next thing I saw was a woman giving this person at my door two towels before getting into the lift and leaving.”

‘Then I saw this young woman, completely naked, trying to wrap two towels around her and not having much luck. She then started to whimper and knock on my door. Seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she lay down with the towels covering her.”

But you know that. You’ve been reading the story over and over again for the past 24 hours straight, trying to get an image of it in your mind so sharp and clear that you’ll never sully your brain with another memory again.

Of course, no-one was available for comment. But nobody cares about that. You dirty buggers are just hoping that some grainy CCTV footage appears in the next couple of days.

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The lies with which Heidi Montag is filled are the softest known to man. So, when you give her a squeeze, you can’t tell she’s fake. Realising that her star has lost its luster, Heidi has taken to flat-out embellishing about her disfigured form in order to remain in the media. And, because we’re a giving bunch, we’re going to oblige my mocking her.

Heidi hasn’t been in the news much, for the better part of a year. The last thing she really did was mutilate herself, of her own free will, on the operating table, while bemused photographers from an American magazine watched on. Pretty much, that was the last thing she did, except fake a divorce and fake the release of a sex tape, to keep herself in the tabloids.

It’s a pretty sad state of affairs that that’s what it takes to remain on television. At least the Kardashians were willing to take one in the eye for the team and be a little more open about their lack of talent. It’s the smoke, mirrors and subterfuge that’s bothersome with Heidi.

Having nothing but her inflatables and low self-esteem to promote on the world’s stage, Heidi spent the weekend with Crystal Harris. The same Crystal who dumped Hugh Hefner five days before a wedding she admitted she’d pressured him into. The two girls aren’t friends, to be clear. They’re just equally attention-seeking and Heidi invited Crystal to spend the weekend at a promotional pool party in Las Vegas. Their jobs? To stand there, all fake-tanned, and stage awkward photos together.

This is the first event in some time for which anyone’s been willing to pay Heidi. Which hasn’t escaped her.

Months ahead of time, she began to prepare for the pool party/ photo call, fearing that she’d become overweight. Then she slimmed down and lied about working out 14-hours-a-day, every day, for months, to lose 27 pounds.

“I’ve been working out from, like, 5 a.m. to 7 p.m. for two months now. I’ve been working out really hard because I had this pool party and I was like, I have to be in shape,” she told Us Weekly. “And I was actually a lot overweight. It was the most I’ve ever been because I’ve kind of been in hiding eating pie with my husband and puppies, so I needed to get back in shape.” At her heaviest, the 5?2? reality star claimed she weighed 130 pounds; she’s currently back down to 103. How did the Hills alum lose 27 pounds so quickly? “I’ve been running a lot, and I’ve been doing weights,” she said. “When you work out, you boost your metabolism, so you have to [make sure you eat enough].”

Worse still, she nearly burst her inflatables with all that exercise. Won’t someone think of the breasts. Oh, the humanity!

“My breasts, because they’re so big, really needed some time,” she explained. “So I’m just starting to work out again after my surgery. Sometimes I get shooting pains, but I hear that’s normal.”

This was a guest post by Amy Grindhouse, so three stinkin’ cheers for that.

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