Runaway bride Simon Cowell has broken off another relationship, this time to his makeup artist Mezhgan Husaiany.

“It’s quite a complicated relationship. We have had a break from each other, and we are still incredibly close,” Cowell told The Sunday Mirror. “I’m vulnerable. It’s not on, it’s not off, it’s somewhere in the middle. I don’t know if I will ever get married, but I am happy.”

You know how painful it is when you drop an M&M and it rolls under the sofa, and is juuussstttttt out of your reach? Welcome to Mezghan Husaiany’s life.

Why would Simon Cowell want to get married? He’s so rich that he could walk into a christening, drop-kick the baby over the font and he’d still leave with the phone number of half the congregation.

Simon Cowell is famous for three things; an oddly-smooth Frankenstein-esque forehead, unnaturally high-waisted trousers and the habit of leaving ex-girlfriends with huge pay-offs. He’s like a modern-day Professor Higgins – picking humble girls out of the gutter, teaching them to speak all puurrrttty, then setting them up in multi-million-dollar mansions.

Unlike our last relationship, where our pay off was a keyed-up car and a strongly worded letter from a lawyer.

Instead of playing out this awkward Ross-and-Rachel-on-and-off-yes-that-does-count-as-cheating-you-bastard snooze-fest Hussainy should just take the money and run.

Wonderful news folks! Mario Lopez is getting married! We’re thrilled to bits. You see, we like the chap who played A.C. Slater so much that we turned a boring news article about Coheed & Cambria into a brief history of Mario Lopez.

He really is a very, very splendid man.

And now the Saved By The Beller is all grown-up and getting hitched to, quite possibly, the luckiest woman who ever lived. And something must be in the air because only a few months ago, Zack Morris (aka Mark-Paul Gosselaar) got engaged and… well… Skreech is still trying to live down his sex tape.

Mario Lopez is tying the knot with the beautiful Courtney Mazza. They’ve been together since 2008 and not that long ago, they had a baby together. She’s called Gia. Luckiest little girl who ever lived, thanks to having the most amazing dad in the world.

Of course, Mario Lopez has had a thoroughly fantastic life outside of babies, marriages and Saved By The Bell.

Currently, he’s working as a presenter on Extra (best TV show ever made) and America’s Best Dance Crew (the second best TV show ever made) as well as being the world’s greatest boxing analyst and sometimes host of the not at all strange Miss Teen USA Pageants.

Basically, he’s all kinds of wonderful. Mario Lopez is like life or death. Mario Lopez is like earth, wind and fire. Mario Lopez is like sex to a nympho. Mario Lopez is like ecstasy for ladies, he’s like all races combined in one man. Mario Lopez is like a poor man’s dream, a thug poet.

He’s half-man, half-amazing.

There’s no date set for the wedding, but the best pair of humans who ever lived are reportedly getting married in Mexico and the entire world has been invited.

We’ll be there, crying at the majesty of Mario Lopez.

Hey! This story is so new that even Britney Spears doesn’t know about it and, crucially, it utterly regards to her possible happiness. Or indeed, the sobbing of a rejected beau. You don’t know what we’re talking about do you?

Sorry. We’re excited. Excited to utterly spoil a surprise.

See, tonight, Britney Spears’ boyfriend – Jason Trawick – will get down on one knee and propose to her. He wants to marry her. She might say no! We’ve no idea! He hasn’t asked her yet, but we’ve found out that he plans to and we’re shouting it from the rooftops to ensure that any romance or surprise is shat on.

As we all know, Britney LOVES wedding cake, having been married roughly 40 times in the past 2 years. Somewhere in the region of that figure. We can’t remember.

And now, she’ll have to plan a finger buffet, mobile disco and dry-clean one of her many wedding dresses that lie covered in cobwebs in her attic!

So how have a bunch of reprobates like us got hold of such JUICY information? We stole it from professional ambulance chasers, TMZ, of course!

They reckon that Jason will be popping the question tonight in Las Vegas, the scene of at least 34 of Britney’s previous marriages.

Sources, who are very trustworthy, say Britney’s conservators have given the whole thing their stamp of approval. Possibly because they don’t mind who Britney gets married to. She could marry a cushion for all they care.

Apparently, there’s going to be a prenup as well, which is just about the most romantic gesture a human can bestow on another.

If we don’t get an invite to the lavish bash, we’re going to cry. Hard. So hard that our organs erupt from our ducts. You’ve been warned.

Imagine being Courtney Love for a second. Imagine, if you can, what it must be like to be that mental. Try and picture the look on people’s faces are you haul your bizarre face around the streets of the world. Just think, how brilliant it must be to be so deluded that you carry all this off thinking you’re brilliant!

All this, despite the fact you’ve never made a decent record in your life, got your child taken off you for being an outrageous smack-head, fallen out with your deceased husband’s friends (who you were accused of killing in a film) and now, being ignored by your own daughter.

AND NOW SHE MIGHT BE HOMELESS! That’s right, our Courtney – as we previously reported – was involved in a fire at her New York City apartment. Trouble is now knocking on her charred door.

See, the owner of the luxury NYC townhouse Love rents is under the assumption that SHE set the place on fire and, if it isn’t too much trouble, could she get out of the house, LIKE NOW.

Wonder why the landlord would think that the infamously trouble-free Courtney Love had set her own house on fire?

According to the owner, the “landmark luxury 4-story townhouse in Manhattan’s West Village” was custom designed by a famous architect and interior designer and Love agreed not to mess with anything inside the place without permission.

However, the owner thinks that Love totally ignored that and started repainting the place and wallpapering over the “glazed hand-brushed walls.” That seems out of character for the notoriously sensible rock star.

Oh, let us not forget the fire.

The owner claims the local Fire Department responded to the torched curtains and bed linens, but, it’s thought that – thanks to burn marks throughout the gaff – there’s a chance the entire structure may have caught fire. You may let a tenant off for an accident, but not one you are claiming is $54,000 behind on rent.

Is the owner of the house a chuckling D. Grohl? Anyway, we’ve got a question: Couldn’t Kurt Cobain’s corpse actually BUY her a house of her own?

Courtney Love’s mother-in-law doesn’t have a front door. She has black mold. Her sister-in-law is homeless. Meanwhile, Dave Grohl bought an Aston Martin last week. It’s an awful state of affairs isn’t it?

Of course, some of you may be wondering where this has come from. Well, these ‘facts’ have come from the oddly shaped mouth of Courtney herself who wants to point out what a dreadful rotter Dave Grohl is and how hard done to Courtney’s family are.

One question: Why doesn’t Courtney Love who, by her own admission earns ‘tons of money’, buy her mother-in-law a front door and put her sister up in one of her large houses? Either way, there’s some videos over the jump which show Courtney and her Hole fans enjoying some nice homophobia.

While playing a show in Brazil, one of the dimwitted throng (what other kind of throng could possibly pay money to go and watch Hole? Seriously. They’re the Nickelback of Grunge) decided to hoist up their Kurt Cobain t-shirt.

This saw Courtney having a tantrum (massive surprise), spouting off about how she was the one who married him, the one who carried his kid and, oddly, Cobain’s ghost. Of course, you could sympathise with her feeling so protective of her family if she wasn’t ever a junkie who lost custody of her child in the ’90s and in more recent years, publicly disowned her child for having thoughts of her own.

But she cares, maaaan.

Anyway, here’s rant number one, where she storms off stage, with not a care in the world for all those people who spent their hard-earned money on tickets for a Hole show.

While Courtney may not give two hoots about Hole fans finances, she certainly cares about Dave Grohl’s bank account. In a post-gig interview, she spits about how he’s got a Nirvana Inc. credit card (can we please have one? PLEASE? PRETTY PLEASE?) and how her family is destitute.

DESTITUTE.

Would it be trite to point out that Courtney Love who has acres of money could help these people out? Or, maybe, just maybe, she’s making them suffer because she’s selfishly making a point about Dave Grohl? Her beef with her corpse-husband’s former bandmate is far more important to her than buying a front door for her mother-in-law in winter, right?

Still, all that can go whistle because, to get Courtney back onstage, some shirtless bozo from her ranks waddled before the crowd and asked them to repeat the phrase…

“The Foo Fighters are gay.”

We can assume that this wasn’t meant to be a compliment, so it seems that Courtney Love is happy for her crew to say things like that and, more to the point, has such contempt for the homosexuals of the world that, using them as a slur is the only thing that will sufficiently attack Dave Grohl for her to feel loved enough to restart a gig.

Isn’t that nice? Isn’t Courtney Love a really, really pleasant woman?

Sarah Harding, or the blonde one from Girls Aloud, has spent the last wee while in rehab. Did you know that?

No, neither did we.

Is it that no-one told us or simply that the admission of a celebrity to rehab has become so commonplace that we now spend more time focussing on what Daniel O’Donnell’s up to. He’s nice. Grans like Daniel O’Donnell.

Sarah Harding doesn’t though. She thinks he’s boring and once interrupted a West

London club night to go on a forty-five minute tirade about how he was “dull” and that he should give her all of his doubloons. Yes, Ms. Harding had well and truly lost her shit.

After splitting from DJ boyfriend Tom Crane the Girls Aloud star seemed to hit rock bottom and with her angry tirade against “clean-cut bastard” O’Donnell, those closest to her told her that she should probably check into rehab before she was burned at the stake by a procession of furious Grandmothers.

Last week reports claimed that Harding and Crane (not a Law Firm) had decided to have another go at resurrecting their relationship, with Crane (a big O’Donnell fan) said to have forgiven Harding for her furious outbursts.

A friend, or someone from her PR company, told the Sunday Mirror:

“They’ve been in regular contact throughout her time away but only on the phone. They’ve spoken most days and it seems like they could have a chance of giving it another shot. She still loves Tommy… she’s just not sure if things can get back to where they were.”

Isn’t that nice? Harding will be back in the UK to celebrate her 30th birthday and it is thought that her loving family have bought her a private show with the Irish singer. Lucky, lucky girl.

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Steve Jones is so potent that he could get a homophobe’s trousers aroused. He could probably get a kitchen table pregnant. God. He’s just so sexual.

He’s so sexy that TV productions companies know it and that, because he’s got a relatively self-effacing sense of humour, you can say that people are having sex with him and he won’t mind.

And so, now that Nicole Scherzinger isn’t going out with Lewis Hamilton anymore (mainly because he’s about as thrilling as a wart being frozen off), the X Factor USA team have decided to press her groin against his and shout “YOU’RE TOTALLY GOING OUT NOW! WE ALL SAW YOU COPPING OFF WITH EACH OTHER!” Kim Kardashian is on hand to offer advice about shortlived, lucrative wedding deals no doubt.

Oh. Before we go on, we forgot to do the pun which we’re now obliged by law to write: X Factor? SEX FACTOR MORE LIKE!

Anyway, some source at Fox tells Heat that the judge and the host were actually told to get close earlier this summer, for the good of televisual chemistry.

The insider says:

“X Factor executives encouraged Nicole and Steve to build their chemistry, and get to know each other better over drinks”

“But since then, things have moved on.”

SEX FACTOR MORE LI… oh sorry, we’ve done that one.

And why haven’t they gone public?

The mole says:

“They can’t go public until they get the okay from Simon.”

You may laugh, but soon, we’ll all have to run our relationships by Simon Cowell… and Christ knows how difficult it is to get good praise from him without some terrible sob-story.

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If you’re a Nirvana fan, chances are you’re so young it’s actually sickening. You were barely alive when he redecorated his garage with his brains and therefore, you’ve martyred him to the point he can do no wrong.

You’ve probably got into Riot Grrrl too, despite the fact it was a scene that lasted all of about 30 seconds and was filled with some gaspingly average rock bands. WITH A MANDATE THOUGH.

And so, because you’ll never get close to a scene that has long died, you’ve invariably harboured some stupid fantasy about getting with Frances Bean Cobain. Courtney Love looks like too much work and it isn’t exactly cool hipster points to like Dave Grohl because he’s enjoying being a stadium rock star. Sadly for you jerks, you’ll never get to have sex with Frances Bean, thanks to some rumours that are floating around.

Basically, aside from the fact she’s an incredibly wealthy rock-offspring, thereby something of a deluded idiot who is about as down-to-earth as a cult leader, Frances won’t be having sex with you ever, because she’s apparently got engaged to her rocker boyfriend, Isaiah Silva.

Who? He’s in The Rambles. Nope. Us neither. We suspect they’re utterly, utterly awful jangly indie-gash.

No matter though. Frances Bean is in LURVE and she’s totally getting married, so that’s you out of the equation. This, of course, is according to some unnamed source in some terrible gossip rag.

That said, Frances and her boyfriend changed their relationship status on Facebook to engaged a few weeks ago. That’s if you believe that the accounts in question are actually theirs as they go under fake names – she goes by Frances Rachel Leigh Cook, him, Isaiah David Berkowitz-Cusack.

You’re all off to stalk them now, aren’t you?

Frances commented on her page:

“Getting to spend the rest of my life loving my best friend makes me the luckiest woman in the world.”

Not THAT lucky. Your dad is totally dead and your mum is completely batshit mental and posts naked pictures of herself on twitter.

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Imagine this. You’re pasty. You have a gigantic head. You’re accent is neither here-nor-there. You have made a living purely from swearing and being a vague dare-devil on some terrestrial sub-channel. You’re an Osbourne.

The chances of you successfully mating with someone should be so slim, that you feel like chopping your wang off.

However, we live in a stupid, stupid world and, indeed, Jack Osbourne has not only found someone who will willingly have sex with him, but they’re also willing to repeatedly do it without a prophylactic so that your Osbourne seed will harvest in your womb. Like we said, it’s a stupid, stupid world.

Less than two weeks after confirming his engagement to absolutely no-one, Jack Osbourne has indeed announced that he’s going to be a father.

He says:

“I’m excited. I’m a little nervous”

And we’re all collectively nauseated about thinking of Jack ‘on the job’, all sweating and grunting AHLUVYOUBABY in the ear of actress Lisa Stelly (no, us neither).

Speaking of Stelly, who has clearly suffered some kind of massive head trauma at some point, she thinks Jack Osbourne – y’know? THAT Jack Osbourne – is the bee’s knees.

She tweeted:

“The most amazing man I’ve ever met asked me to marry him….and he wasn’t joking!”

Still, things aren’t all bad. Thanks to Ozzy Osbourne being on the scene, he may well relive the old days and try and bite baby’s head off.

Now that’d be a story worth writing.

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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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Hugh Hefner is not a happy man. Is it because he sincerely thought Crystal Harris was his true love and there was genuine shock and misery at her jilting him at the altar, before going on to say nasty things about his prowess in the bedroom?

Or is it because his male pride is taking an absolute hammering?

Whatever it is, he’s not about to start taking insults from an air-head like that! No way! So is he coming out fighting and saying that she has unsightly moles on her mons or that she actually has a dozen teats down her stomach like some pig in a boob tube? Of course he isn’t. He’s pointed at his chap and saying ‘Yeah? I totally do sex with it all the time. Like, a million times a day. And all the women can’t walk properly. After I’ve had sex with them I mean. I’m not using my wonder wand on people in wheelchairs. Although I would because I’ve got no problem with them. Can I have a lie down now? A normal one, not a sex one. Thanks. I get ever so tired.’

Anyway, Harris said that the Boob Magnate lasted “two seconds” in the sack, which saw Hefner coming out with boxing gloves on to sort all this out. Alas, he’s so old, that he couldn’t quite lift his hands up into the fighting position, leaving him trying to generate enough moisture from his body to create a solitary tear of frustration.

Well kinda.

What Hef actually did was to say that Harris “lied about our relationship” before going on about how they were at it all the time.

“For the record, I have sex on a weekly basis. And I did throughout my two-and-a-half years with Crystal.”

Crikey. He must be bored to tears of having the old in/out. If he’s done it at least once a week, that’s 52 times a year. Now multiply that by the 39,762 years he’s been on this Earth and… well… we shudder to think how he gets his kicks these days.

It seems variety is the spice of life as Hef added:

“My sex life involves more than one partner and has since the end of my marriage in 1998″

“There’s safety in numbers. When I try to settle down [like I did with] Crystal, I get burned.”

It won’t be too long before a young, nubile woman wants to marry the incredibly wealthy grot vendor, so he’ll be okay. Or dead soon.

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We were all pretty shocked when Crystal Harris decided to ditch Playboy founder, Hugh Hefner, just days before she was due to walk up the altar. They seemed like such a lovely couple. Perfect for each other in fact!

Alas, it wasn’t to be and us mere mortals were denied the greatest love story ever told.

Not that there was much lovin’ going on. See, Crystal has decided to spill the beans on the couple’s sex life… or should we say, lack of it. So little nookie was had that Harris claims that she never even saw Hef naked. As a little treat for her, we’ve decided to share our picture of Hefner with no clothes on with her.

The runaway snide has said that she had never seen the 85-year-old boob mogul sans clothes:

“Hef doesn’t really take off his clothes. I have never seen him naked”

That doesn’t mean she didn’t get bizzay with him though. Of course she did. That’s how she snared him isn’t it? He clearly didn’t like her for ability to keep their sexual antics private.

This could be something to do with the fact that they only had sex once during their two-year relationship, and that it lasted “like about two seconds.”

Lovely. She added, like it was some kind of surprise:

“I just like, walked away. I am not turned on by Hef. Sorry”

Anyone would think this was some kind of cold-eyed, cynical careerist move on her part wouldn’t they? Well, just so she has to endure the same horrors we’ve been enduring, we’re finally leaking our image of Hef naked that we’ve had all these years.

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Nicole Scherzinger not only has a surname that’s really annoying to type out because it’s both long and tricky, but she’s also determined to break poor little Lewis Hamilton’s 8 year old motor racing heart.

Why? She’s refusing to marry him. Refusing point blank and in public. What a nasty, nasty piece of work the X Factor USA judge is.

With the whole world willing the pair down the aisle with a collective unbridled love and devotion, dedicated to this truly magnificent celebrity pair (where would we be without their combined vrooming and skreeching noises?), they have thrown our feelings back in our faces, leaving us to cry into our steam-cleaned wedding hats.

The heartless Pussycat Doll went to her decade old computer, got the modem working and slowly tapped out a message with one finger and her tongue hanging out on twitter:

‘Lewis and I woke up this morning and read we were engaged! Sorry to disappoint u all but its not true ’

Note the callous, mocking, smiling emoticon used in the sign off. Nicole Shirtynougat is actively getting off on our combined sorrow.

What a cruel, cruel woman she is. Christ knows how Lewis Hamilton will be feeling about it all. There’s a good chance he’ll end up crying while racing his car, tears filling his helmet, leaving him to crash into a concrete barrier at 200mph.

That’ll probably be greeted by Nicole Shredzammo on twitter with a ‘ ‘ emoticon.

Even Schnappszingerburger’s father hasn’t been spared of the misery. He was gleefully telling the world’s press all about the thrill of this wedding.

Nicole Slappenbingo’s daddio, Alfonso Valiente, said:

‘You know about the proposal? Yes they are engaged! My future son-in-law is a really nice guy, really down to earth. My family all like him. The good spirit is there.’

Come Alfonso, join us as we weep openly on street corners and try to learn how to spell your daughter’s name so we can daub it onto crude banners proclaiming our sudden hatred of her.

THE HEARTLESS BAG!

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Hugh Hefner has invented a cloning machine. We’re presupposing as much because yet another girlfriend has been added to Hugh’s arsenal of glorified ladies of the night. Ever heard of November 2011 Playboy Playmate Shera Bechard? No? Us neither.

A little too old for his tastes, we think, Shera is the 27-year-old new girlfriend of the 85-year-old smut-peddler. Yes, that’s another one since last Monday when he confirmed that Anne Sophie Berglund and the Shannon twins were back in his harem.

In what reads like the world’s most convoluted ploy for publicity, Hugh has used the break-up with Crystal Harris to pimp his forthcoming Playboy issues and the latest non-descript blonde who’s going to age out within a year.

Into his cloning device, Hugh puts thongs, botox, implants, and too much bleach. Clearly, the machine’s in need of fine tuning. None the less, it’s a work of sheer wizardry. All you would need is some ointment to soothe the itch from the nasties picked up in the literally filthy mansion and you would have a party in a box.

Speaking of boxes, being too literal for our own good, Hugh patronizingly called Anna his ‘one in a million… darling… best girl’ only last week.

This week, he added Shera. ‘Shera is both our November 2011 Playmate & my new girlfriend,’ Hugh told a Twitter follower on Monday.

Seeing this, his new plaything, with fully adjustable limbs, wrote that she ‘really does love’ the man with whom she has been enjoying early bird dinners.

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

It takes a lot of work to be described as a legend. You have to be dedicated to what you do and do it well for years of your life. Eventually, your achievement is such that your creation will be on any imaginable number of products that make less and less sense. Imagine your logo on bottle openers and the front of thongs! Imagine! The logo that has become synonymous with the objectification of women or, as others like to think of it, baps and bush.

Imagine you created that. Imagine you’re Hugh Hefner. Just take thirty seconds and imagine that. Have you lost your erection and/or heightened state of sexual arousal? Yes, of course you have.

Shrivelled titfid Hugh Hefner is reported to have moved on from ex-fiancée Crystal Harris,  despite their engagement only ending last week. The renowned smoking jacket wearer is said to have been so aroused by his new ‘target’ that he almost managed to allow enough blood to rush to his flaccid member to allow its non-artificial engorgement. That’s love in the Playboy Mansion.

According to Popeater, the Playboy founder has sparked a romance with Anna Sophia Berglund, better known as this year’s Playboy ‘Miss January’. You might not know her as that, given that you’ve probably yanked your way through five more months by now and have forgotten what she looks like.

“It’s clear Hef has moved on to Anna,” a source claimed while faking climax. The source went on to claim that they had been part of seven-way where Hefner had screamed “GET OFF HER!” at a moment of orgasm which, hecklerspray is led to believe, is the accepted sign that Hef has taken a shine to one of the girls.

Berglund has apparently moved into Hefner’s bedroom, and the two were said to have been kissing and cuddling throughout a recent movie night at the mansion but there was no mention of anything else – thank god.

Earlier this week Crystal Harris called off her engagement to Hefner less than a week before their wedding. Sources close to Harris claimed that the constant female presence in the Playboy mansion had played a significant part in her decision to end the engagement. Celebrity commentators have all let out a collective “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Harris is also said to have been alarmed by the Pope’s recent appearance on a balcony.

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