Do you have a dog? Word to the wise – no-one actually cares. It’s your stupid, gristle-munching crap-factory and no-one else wants to deal with it outside of occasional petting of it when we have to visit your fur covered home that smells like dog’s teeth.
That’s because dogs are stupid. They’re impressively stupid. They walk into things, frighten themselves when flatulent and will forever be fooled by someone pretending to throw a ball for them. Dogs, in short, are idiots.
With that, someone ought to tell Eva Mendes who is ten shades of thrilled that she talks to her dog in French and is bowled over that it knows what she’s on about. Or rather, it has no idea.
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Say what you like about Kelly Osbourne, but… no, seriously. Say whatever you like. We’re not Kelly Osbourne so we’re not going to defend her. That’s because she’s rather fond of doing it for herself.
See, Kelly has had a privileged but awkward upbringing, and so, as some coping mechanism, developed a really loud mouth.
If you go after her, she’ll probably huff and puff and yell your house down. So, when an ex of hers starts slating her on twitter, she’s not likely to take it lying down is she? Especially when she’s still grieving over the loss of her friend, Amy Winehouse.
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Dog owners are idiots. They dote on their flea-bitten shit-factories like they’re proper members of the family, despite the fact they do no work around the house, demand food and walkies and are only good for blaming your flatulence on.
Not that dog owners would ever let on. They look into their idiot dog’s eyes and mistake stupidity for some kind of human empathy. ‘My dog understands me and is always there when I need them!’ Dogs are always there, period. They’re after food or a piss, not a heart-to-heart. Dogs probably don’t even have hearts. Just more shit.
Of course, the rest of us perfectly sensible humans have to put up with people when their dogs die. We suffered like Jesus on the cross when Jennifer Aniston’s dog passed-away, and now, we are required to do the same for Kelly Osbourne who has lost the only thing in her life that she felt was an intellectual equal.
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The fun thing about celebrities is that they’re always allegedly doing stuff. They’re allegedly always snorting lines of good quality drugs, reportedly getting hammered and punching their wives or allegedly having an affair with a woman on twitter and knocking up quick superinjunctions.
However, when it comes to Jennifer Aniston, she’s always allegedly doing absolutely nothing. She just stands there, like a hatstand, crying about her dead dog.
And now, the latest thing Aniston isn’t doing is dating some no-mark called Justin Theroux. Her representative is going around quashing the rumours and denying the chance of any sort of romantic link, meaning that they’re the busy person in Hollywood for simply saying “Nope, nothing to see here” all the time.
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In news that will rock with world, as we saw when Michael Jackson decided to have too much Propofol, it brings us absolutely no pleasure to tell you that Norman, Jennifer Aniston’s Welsh corgi-terrier mix, has died at the age of 15. He is survived by around half-a-dozen other Welsh corgi-terrier mixes from the same litter.
The dog, said to be behind the split of Aniston and Brad Pitt, accompanied the actress on location and everywhere else, and was noted for his penchant for bitches and suffered from an alcohol problem for many years.
In recent years, Norman has had complications in his constitution thank to his hell-raising and the onset of old age.
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Well it seems Jessica Simpson has finally learned to not make her pets look so delicious all the time.
No doubt right now she’s stripping all her cats out of their hamburger outfits, she’s un-plucking all her canary’s feathers and hoping the generously applied butter-baste rinses off on it’s own, and she’s gonna stop breading her still-alive goldfish every 15 minutes.
She’s not giving all this up for no good reason though – it’s because a coyote recently swooped in, picked up her pooch, and carried it off to a ferrel-dog picnic or something.
Incidentally, all this happened right before Simpson’s eyes.
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The world of entertainment has lost another of its true greats, adding yet another name to the list of death in the last few months.
Following the hysterical splurge of affection for a man who just the day before was being mocked around the clock on Michael Jackson‘s death, through the shameful ignorance shown by the general populace on Steven Wells‘ death and after the rather embarrassing position David Carradine seemed to get himself into – before dying in said position – we have been left shocked by yet another loss.
Ozzy Osbourne‘s dog has been eaten by a coyote.
It’ll be alright – wipe away the tears.
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Although in 1995 India was a barren wasteland where nothing had ever lived, by 1996 billions of bums had moved in and turned it into a sort of poverty-themed Disneyland.
Tourists love it – and it’s the perfect setting for that Slum Dog Millionaire movie, don’t you think? You don’t think so? Well you’re not alone – all homeless Indian denigrates agree with you wholeheartedly. Enough so that they’re currently picketing outside the home of one of the film’s stars for a big budget name-change or something.
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