Oooh, you thought that you didn’t give two hoots about Khloe Kardashian not being a purebreed Kardash didn’t you? You figured that you didn’t need to care about such a trivial story. Now look at you, since you heard about OJ Simpson.
See, there’s been an issue surrounding Khloe’s biological father and, whoever lands the gig, will invariably have some tidy money to make.
However, what happens if it’s Mister Double Murderer-Cum-Armed-Robber-And-Kidnapper, O.J. Simpson? Well, that’s a story and a half right? Oh, before we forget, OJ Simpson played some sport or other too where the gloves, presumably, fit him just grand. Just to clear that up.
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Sportsmen are all uniformly thick. They’re thicker than pig dung and nearly as blank-faced as soldiers. It’s astonishing really. They need assistants to tell them to take their trousers off before going to the toilet. So it shouldn’t surprise us that Kris Humphries was told EXACTLY how to propose to Kim Kardashian.
Just imagine that. Being so insultingly moronic that Kim Kardashian is able to boss you around.
We all know that the proposal ended in a complete sham of a marriage, but what we didn’t know that it was a con from the off, with Kimmy K actually planning Humphries proposal down to the letter. Allegedly, of course. Go away lawyers.
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Truth be told, it isn’t very often that one of the debauched members of the hecklerspray bedsit would ever speak of a member of the Kardashian lizard family in any positive manner. Doing so carries a punishment. A punishment that would Max Mosley blush and thank his lucky stars that he only has goes up against Nazis, and not the full extent of the hecklerspray phantom. That’s one sick puppy eating monster.
But today is a special day. Today is a day where it all changes for the awful Kardashian Kartel. It seems that the head of the Kardashian family, Kris Jenner, had unprotected and probably nasty (it did involve Kris Jenner, and possibly her original face) sex with an unwitting stranger, before eating the poor fool whole and spinning a web over his corpse so Susan Boyle couldn’t pick at the carcass.
Which we know she would.
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You know what it’s like. You’re minding your own business, doing absolutely nothing wrong and then, KAPOW! Some awful Coldplay song barges into your subconscious while being used as an aspirational bit on some dreary television show.
It simply isn’t fair.
However, thanks to a singing intruder (there clearly should be more ‘singing intruders’… it needs to be a ‘thing’), Chris Martin now knows exactly what it is like for the rest of us poor, innocent, ear-having plebians.
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You’ve heard Coldplay right? Yeah, that’s the guys that make tepid, stadium-sized faeces, swarmed upon by tasteless flies who like vague lyrics that kinda sound aspirational or touching, but best not to dwell on it because that’s not why one goes to a Coldplay gig.
Basically, it’s music for the bone idle.
Disagree? Well, hear this, chumps: Even Chris Martin’s own children – those little oiks who he loves unreservedly and will support for the rest of their lives – don’t even like Coldplay. And Chris Martin knows that to try and force them would be folly.
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Every so often the world unites behind a cause which transcends nationality, colour, creed or sexuality. These causes can be anything from the protection of human rights to people coming together in search of justice (not a lynch mob, that’s not the same thing at all).
Of course, these things don’t always mean much. For example, much of the reaction to Haribo’s new advert, starring “the average nuclear family” in a musical number about sweets, has been hugely negative. People hate it and they’re getting together to show how much they dislike it.
We had managed to avoid the advert entirely until one fateful night when DepEd Michael put it on while the rest of the staff were out drinking cheap beer and getting knocked back by prostitutes. Find out what happened after the jump…
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Natalie Portman has suggested that she might quit all that acting lark. Why? Well, she’s seemingly intent on becoming a massive bore. That means she wants to focus on her family and presumably litter her Facebook with constant pictures of stupid humans that have grown in her womb.
She’s currently incubating an inevitable disappointment which was put there by her choreographer fiance Benjamin Millepied. That’s right. Millepied. This baby will have more legs than eyelashes.
Portman has spoken of her desire to emulate (aka ‘copy’) Hollywood icon Audrey Hepburn, who sacked Hollywood off to begin a family.
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When you have a family that you’re ashamed of, it’s easy to want to look beyond their faults and love them for just exactly who they are. That doesn’t mean, of course, that if you have a relative who ‘enjoys the company of children’ or has ‘buried another relative under their patio’ that you shouldn’t report them to the proper authorities. hecklerspray does not encourage the harbouring of criminals.
We look forward to the creepy comments on this column, where you suggest that you wouldn’t mind being touched up by Bill Gates.
With the help of Windows, you can now treat your entire family as though they’re criminals by lining them up for an identity parade and taking a series of pictures of them from all angles with the intention of creating a family that one doesn’t automatically associate with being a host of dribbling morons with all the mental capacity of a lobotomised Janet Jackson fan.
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