Lindsay Lohan used to be loads of fun. She was always in trouble or having sex with someone. She had set the controls for the heart of self-destruct and we all had ringside seats for an early death. And then she went and spoiled it all by looking after herself.
Git.
And now, after getting her freckled neck hoiked by the police a few too many times, she’s laying off the sauce – the same sauce that is a attributable to so much of her success (in getting column inches at least). While trouble may not have left her, she’s angry that people are saying she’s been getting stuck in to that lovely, lovely booze (the only real replacement for love).
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Aah! Lindsay Lohan is the perfect hecklerspray celebrity. She takes one-step forward, or one step back, and she’s in trouble. It doesn’t matter where she is, or who she’s with – she’s always on the brink of being in some kind of bother.
Now, after a couple of years of jewel thievery, alleged assault, drug and drink problems and hanging around morgues, LiLo is back in trouble! HUZZAH! We should thank our stars she hasn’t found God and become a giganto-bore.
So what’s she done this time? Well, it involves a woman called Nubia Del Carmen Preza, a high performance sports vehicle and a whole lotta anguish. Splendid.
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Why do people care about The Oscars? The winners get a lousy statue that resembles a gold-plated bottle of bubble bath with a screw top head. Hollywood has run out of ideas and has realised that the game is up, badly remaking Japanese films and adapting stupid books.
But Generation Yoof won’t care about classic cinema being revisited will they? They’ve got Skins back on their worthless TVs.
And, worse still, sixth form politicians and literature geeks will all be going weak at the knees as skag wuss and all-round pus-factory Pete Doherty looks to cash in with a documentary based on run of the mill indie act, The Libertines. We expect no highs, just lows.
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Whitney Houston has had a GIGANTIC amount of MONSTROUSLY LARGE hits. That one off the Bodyguard where she looks like she’s defecating in a forest for the key-change in the video. That one where she had a blonde perm. It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay.
Of course, there’s that one where she said that she believed that children were our future and that, should we teach them well, we could probably let them lead the way.
Well, it seems Whitney has been getting financial advice from a 6-year-old as her squillions of dollars have all but vanished from her purse, leaving her hilariously begging people for money. Crack eh? Easy punchline, but more pertinently, a Whitney Houston ruiner.
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If you’re under the age of 22 then you will be familiar with the Daily Mail’s nemesis; common sense. Whoops! That should read Skins. If you’re living like the characters in the show, then you’re probably dead and we offer our sincerest sympathies; we died around the same time as Tony who was paralysed by youthful happiness and, you know, a bus.
If you’re lucky enough to be a child now, then we can blame you for the continued success of what is shaping up to be a life affirming/sucking programme.
Either way you will all be suitably disappointed to find out that a new series is going to be cuming (see what we did there?) to E4 on Monday. There are mere days to prepare yourself. Here in the ‘spray bedsit we like to think of Skins as a disease and as you know, with diseases, you must inoculate yourself with small doses to become immune. Based on that logic and no small amount of self-loathing we subjected, or watched, the two ‘webisodes’ on that thing some of you are calling The Internet. It’s a sharp learning curve for us all.
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There is no-one more hateful on planet Earth than Bruno Mars. Absolutely everything about him is odious to the point of a year-long continuous vomit. And yet, there’s people out there who are determined to keep him in the public eye.
His songs are played, his stupid goofy expression keeps appearing on our televisions and no-one seems to care that he sang ‘meet a really nice girl and have some really nice sex, and she’s gonna scream out ‘THIS IS GREAT!’‘ while others willingly join in with “I’ll be lounging on my couch just chillin’ in my snuggie“
You monsters. And now, the law has decided that cocaine possession charges against Mars should be dismissed when really, he should’ve been sent to the electric chair for his awful, tepid, vapid, intestinal dissolving music.
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How are your ears? Like having them? They’re great for holding your glasses up aren’t they? Pierced them? How nice. Alas, there’s one drawback with ears – you can hear stuff. Yep, all manner of useless dreck can creep in their and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Unless you stuff the canal with liquid concrete and then lop them off with cigar clippers.
And you may want to do exactly that because the most appalling news has come our way – Paris Hilton is making a pop comeback and she’s teaming up with zany-irony gobblers and ear-wormers, LMFAO. If you don’t know what that means, let us draw out the horror.
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Imagine a long, slender sliver of beef jerky. Now, imagine it is covered entirely in human scarring. Imagine it twitching and yelping. Imagine the greasy residue it leaves on the counter as it moves from side-to-side. You’re imagining Steven Tyler having sex!
Well done you! And look! There’s some erupting acid-reflux!
See, Steven Tyler (the second best Mick Jagger impersonator after Jagger himself) wants to talk about sex. Y’know sex right? That awkward, awful hobby that requires you to take your clothes off and grunt like an asthmatic sow, hunched over like a defecating dog? Well Tyler likes to talk about sex because, in his world of geriatric cosiness, mentioning sex is still pretty shocking. Bless his little rubbery face.
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