You’ll all be pleased to know that singer George Michael is making good progress as he recovers from a recent bout of pneumonia in Vienna.  That’s good isn’t it? He’ll be cocking around the Christmas Tree in his giant house just in time to watch the Queen’s speech, before driving off somewhere,  full of festive pot and making us all throw our paper hats into the fire in disgust.

The 48 year old singer fell ill in Austria last month and breathing difficulties meant he was stuck in intensive care, while you lot ate your selection boxes early and speculated about stuff that was none of your business.

Earlier in the week boyfriend Fadi Fawaz claimed the singer would be out of hospital by December 25th and suggested there was nothing to worry about.  So that’s settled then isn’t it?

BUT WAIT! It seems that although he’s doing well, he may not be allowed home for Christmas.

SAY IT ISN’T TRUE???

It is. His spoilsport physician and ruiner of Christmas Christoph Zielinski said:

“[It's] something we are not in the position to decide. That is something that must be decided in consultation with the patient.”

Meh.

George was forced to postpone the rest of his Symphonica world tour after being stuck in hospital, but the real tragedy of this whole sorry situation is that those idiots from The Only Way is Essex have decided to release a horrific version ‘Last Christmas’  knowing full well that George isn’t well enough to run them over and give us all the best Christmas present EVER.

We were going to post TOWIE’s video but after careful consideration we’ve decided not to as we’re not complete bastards. Instead you can watch some really brilliant dancers from the 80′s get on the good foot to  ’Last Christmas’ and wish him a speedy recovery.

Look. No jokes. We actually mean it.

George Michael must’ve been running around the heath without his vest on because he’s gone and got himself a nice dose of pneumonia, which means that Hev from Eastenders won’t be able to go to his gigs because he went and cancelled them.

Y’know, because of the pneumonia?

George was hospitalised on Monday in Austria, so this must be a pretty bad cold he’s got. We need to know exactly how bad it is though, for a myriad of reasons. We basically need to be told whether he’s about to die or not.

When celebrities get ill, we need to be told explicitly whether we’re allowed to laugh or not. With Georgie, we’re not in the picture at all.

The statement reads:

“With great regret, George Michael has been forced to postpone his November 26 and 27 shows in Cardiff, Wales, due to his on-going illness.

“Plans to reschedule these postponed tour dates will be provided when available.”

This is all well and vague, but what are we supposed to do with this information? Just report it flat, as it is? No. We need to know whether we’re allowed to mock and whoop because, effectively, he’s going to be fine… or, indeed, we need to know whether or not to start wringing our hands with faux-worry and start talking about how important he is in the world of pop, despite the fact we don’t actually like his records.

If someone tells us how serious his illness is, we can try and put some context on the activities of his past. For example, if he’s going to be fine, we can somehow make his pneumonia look like its a result of recklessness, like the time he crashed his car while stoned or got his lad out in a toilet before an undercover cop.

If he’s about to perish and join that choir invisible, then we need to not mention his past at all, apart from glowing reference about how many record sales he’s had and any potential charity work he’s done.

Basically, we need George Michael to either sort himself out or die. We don’t mind which because these are just hollow words whatever happens.

In news which prompted the Metropolitan Police to issue the statement “Thank fuck for that, now he’s someone else’s problem”, George Michael has ‘announced’ a new tour.

Okay, so this isn’t your actual press conference announcement, but he did post something on Twitter that made it sound like he’ll drag his flabby carcass out on a tour.

And to hecklerspray, a Tweet is just about as good as a court-certified affadavit, witnessed by God and the baby Jesus, and guaranteed by powdered unicorn horn and rainbow juice.

So: George Michael is definitely going to do another tour. Yippee!

Here’s the twat’s tweet :

Face it paps, hacks and haters… the album will sell great, the tour will sell out, and the fans remain some of the loyalest in the world.

Now let’s face it: if you were applying for a spiffy job and had to provide a character witness, you probably wouldn’t choose George Michael. Firstly because you’ve never met George Michael, and his inflated sense of self-importance means you never will. But also because he’s a headcharged weedfreak, who can’t seem to go a month at a time without pissing off the Plod and ending up in jail, like he was pretending to be from Liverpool or something.

But this tweet (“…the tour will sell out…”) does seem to hint that George Michael is ready to get back on the circuit. Which is great news for the weedsellers and dopedanglers in Cardiff, Manchester, Newcastle and Edinburgh. Also (assuming his popularity may have somewhat dropped off) those in Aberdeen, Chester, Wolverhampton and Buckton-Upon-Lees Community Centre.

So. Do we believe this chong-bonging music maestro’s angry little tweet or not? Oh, we would love to.

If only so we get to write headlines like “Club Bongicana”, “Careless Waster” and “George Michael Falls Asleep Live On Stage Because He Was Chonged Off His Head On Moroccan Black”.

Happy days.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or join our Facebook group or BUY ONE OF OUR STUPID T-SHIRTS!

Remember when George Michael was a successful singer? Remember those days when he would appear on our televisions and Alba stereo systems to open and close his mouth in a really tuneful way? Remember that?

Now he’s just a filthy criminal. He’s a number, not a human and hanging is too good for him or something. He’s a dirty little drug-rat who tried to kill a photo shop with a stupid name that was completely innocent.

However, despite selling millions of records, George Michael is no different from any other manky convict shitting in a bucket and suppressing the squeals of delight over the shared prison bongo mag. Not different AT ALL.

That’s what George Michael is saying anyway.

He’s spoken to his fans via his lawyer in a statement that says he’s not getting any special treatment while inside. Although, if we open our eyes a little wider, it’s obvious that George (real name Biggie Smalls) is probably getting different treatment from prison staff because he used to be famous.

The statement reads:

“I think it’s only fair to my fans, family and friends to respond in some way, even though I will be home soon.

“In the last three weeks there have been no tears, no anxiety, no bullying, in fact not so much as a sleepless night for me.

“I have been treated with kindness by fellow inmates and prison staff alike and as far as I can tell, have received no special treatment of any kind whatsoever – unless some of the guys here are letting me win at the pool table.

“Most of my days have been spent reading thousands of letters and postcards of incredible support form people around the world. I promise to repay their kindness with new music as soon as I can.”

Does George know what prison is? People are constantly bullied and suffer from anxiety attacks in prison… because prison is horrible. Treated with kindness too? Seriously George, you’re only going to feed the middle English who think that prison is one big holiday camp.

You dick.

Still, at least his cell probably looks like the bloke from Birdman of Alcatraz, only with crudely scrawled letters instead of birdies. Jesus. Imagine what’s in the correspondence. He’s slowly turning into a celebrity martyr akin to Michael Jackson.

We eagerly await the concept album about his time in the clink which sees Michael taking on the role of Godber, the intelligent and sensitive inmate taken in by a brutish but ultimately good-hearted con. Songs will include ‘Slop Pop’, ‘The Screws Are Alright’, ‘Kissing The Bean Slot’, ‘Jam Roll’ and ‘Listening To The Anguish Pain Of Sexual Offenders Being Attacked With Trays Filled With Boiling Water While I Pretend To Sleep’.

We can’t pissing wait.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or join our Facebook group

George Michael is far from the first pop star to get chucked in prison. He’s not the first to get chided for taking drugs either. However, there’s something almost sweet about the way he decided to get hooked on weed.

Heroin makes you look like a balloon of pus, whereas a bag of hash a day clearly has minor implications for a person, like crashing into a photo developing shop with a stupid name and, er, well… getting sent to prison to be sung at by sex offenders. Ah.

Apparently, cheering and singing broke out round Pentonville jail when prisoners found out pop star George Michael would be serving his time with them.

Sadly for George (aka prisoner A8365AW), he wasn’t in the mood for joining in the fun and games because he was being strip-searched at the time and ready to be thrown into the sex offenders’ block ready for a good mocking and howled versions of songs from his back catalogue.

Quite why the prison service decided to stick him in with the sex offenders is something of a puzzle. It seems that the authorities thought he might be safer among the paedophiles and sex offenders. That’s probably the only time you’ll see the notion of someone being safe amongst sexual predators on these pages.

Anyway, one inmate revealed (how, we don’t know):

“As soon as he arrived some of the prisoners burst into a rendition of Freedom.

“And when he was taken to shower they sang ‘Guilty George has got no freedom’ to the tune of Careless Whisper. He is sulking. He’s wearing prison-issue tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt but doesn’t have any shoes on.

“When the cells were unlocked in the morning he just sat there and refused to come out. Everyone was peering out of their windows overlooking the exercise yard expecting to see him but he didn’t show.”

Thinking of George in prison, without his shoes on, reminds us of the scenes from Scum featuring intellectual joker, Archer, who refuses to wear boots because it conflicts with some imagined religion. Hopefully, George will play a similar prankster role while incarcerated, leaving wardens to quip: “How is Mecca, Georgie boy?”

Aside from this glibbery, the singer isn’t happy at all.

A source said in The Mirror:

“He was not happy about being strip-searched at all. He told the guards, ‘God, is this really necessary? It’s degrading’.”

Not that this bothered the inmates. They wanted an impromptu show like Cliff at Wimbledon.

Convicted shoplifter with an exotic sounding name, Joao Sena, released yesterday, said:

“We were shouting ‘George Michael’s coming, bring him on!’.”

“He was where the paedophiles, grasses and sex offenders are all kept. It’s not a nice place but because George is a celebrity the prison bosses must have thought he’s vulnerable.”

The prison has apparently offered Michael Subutex, which is a drug given to prisoners with a history of drug abuse. It’s understood that George refused the medication… presumably because you can get bags of skunk really easily whilst ‘inside’, so there’s no point is there?
Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or join our Facebook group

Oh dear. George Michael has been jailed for eight weeks after he got stoned out of his little mind and crashed his car.

Jesus. It’s like writing about some scally who just passed his test! Was he listening to some sub-bass heavy Euro trance while he was at it with a glove box full of 10p Pickled Onion Meanies?

Anyway, the crooner was arrested in July in Hampstead, north London after crashing his Range Rover into a shop. Presumably to get his hands on yet more 10p Meanies.

Last month, he was handed a six-month interim driving ban after pleading guilty to driving under the influence of drugs and possessing cannabis.

Feel free to make your own jokes about ‘Freedom’ and all that gubbins… or him being behind Wham bars or… *shoots self*

Breaking news type of thing alert! George Michael has reportedly been charged with driving under the influence of drink and drugs. Honestly! He’s a one-man Cheech and Chong. We reckon he could smoke Method Man and Redman under a table. Probably.

The former Wham bar was also charged with possession of cannabis, reports Sky News. How many packets of Space Raiders do you think he goes through in a week?

Anyway, Michael was freed on bail following his arrest this morning and is due to appear before Highbury magistrates on August 24th.  This is all because he had a slight accident when he crashed his car into a shop.

More news when we get it. Feel free to abuse in the comments.

Rule of Pop: never give your group an onomatopoeic name that sounds like a car crashing into a shop.

Like Wham! That’s just stupid. Because you’re inevitably going to grow up to be primarily known for crashing your car into a selection of inanimate objects, aren’t you, and that’d just be handing it to the headline writers on a plate. Instead, play it safe and go for a more abstract onomatopoeic name, like Snersh! or Mumph! or Ker-Blitch!

It’s advice that George Michael probably wishes that he’d listened to, because he’s been arrested for crashing into the Hampstead branch of Snappy Snaps. And almost immediately after getting his licence back following a two-year ban for crashing into something else, too. What are the chances? Oh, the chances are quite high because George Michael has a long and proven history of grossly irresponsible driving? Oh, OK.

When you’re a pop star, it’s good to have a hobby. That imp from Muse, for example, has his jet packs and Roger Daltrey has his trout farm. George Michael, on the other hand, has two hobbies – one is a burning desire to crash his car into every inanimate object on the face of the planet, and the other is a prodigious drug habit. The two may or may not be connected.

But still, George Michael has finally released the long-awaited follow-up to his hits such as Falling Asleep In His Car and Crashing Into Some Other Cars and Falling Asleep In His Car Again, entitled Crashing Into A Branch Of Snappy Snaps. And, what’s more, he’s been arrested for it. EW reports:

For the seventh time, 47-year-old former pop star George Michael was arrested for a driving-related wrong. After police got reports that his Range Rover had crashed into a Snappy Snaps shop in London following his attendance at London’s gay pride parade, he was taken into custody at a north London police station under suspicion of being unfit to drive.

This whole story is like an exercise in lovely nostalgia, isn’t it? We didn’t know that Snappy Snaps still existed. We didn’t know that George Michael still existed either, for that matter. If we don’t hear from him for a couple of months, we tend to assume that he’s crawled up his own bottom and suffocated as part of a bizarre drug-based dare.

George Michael will return to court in August to face charges, and we pray that the judge will be lenient. Ban him again, by all means, but make sure he’s free to drive again by the Olympic opening ceremony in 2012. We hear that the centrepiece of the whole thing will be a sequence where George Michael drives aimlessly around the inside of the stadium in his battered old Range Rover, running over countless important cultural artifacts before he gives up and falls asleep. Don’t that that from us.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter

So that’s it. X Factor 2009 is finally over. And in Joe McElderry, we have found a worthy winner. Well, a winner.

Well, a winner by default. In truth, nobody was particularly crazy about Joe McElderry, but at least he’ll now get to realise his dream of always being known for singing a genuinely awful Miley Cyrus ballad, so that’s something. Remember the name Joe McElderry – not because he’s destined to become a megastar, but because it’s bound to eventually be the answer to the pub quiz question ‘What was the name of that funny-looking boy who won X Factor in 2009 and then almost immediately got dropped by his record label?’

Still, we’ve just come out of a gargantuan X Factor weekend, so let’s pick over the bones, shall we?

Now, you might notice that this recap is fairly light on last night’s X Factor. This isn’t because we didn’t watch it, but because somewhere between that George Michael song about Jesus watching TV and Angela Lansbury performing Drive My Car, we lost the will to live. In summary, though, Olly was rubbish, Joe was rubbish, Alexandra Burke and JLS and Leona Lewis were rubbish, there was an advert for half price pork chops and then Joe McElderry won. Happy now? Good.

Stacey Solomon – What was it that made the public vote Stacey out of X Factor first this weekend? It certainly wasn’t her rendition of What A Wonderful World, because that was effortless and charming and – even though Stacey did her best to turn it into a shouting competition with herself in the final third – fairly understated. She even performed most of it on a stool, possibly because Simon Cowell has an aneurysm every time she attempts a dance routine. It was a fail-safe crowd-pleaser, and it largely worked.

And it couldn’t have been Stacey’s performance of Who Wants To Live Forever, because that was just as thoroughly tedious as it was during X Factor‘s Queen night, and she seemed to do alright then. So what does that leave?

Oh yes, Stacey’s duet of Feeling Good with Michael Buble. On the surface, it looked like Stacey had aced this, too – she managed to comprehensively out-perform Buble, who was dressed like a car thief on the way to court – but it had its lesser moments. Although she looked amazing, and the singing parts were top notch, the mood of the song was shattered somewhat when she broke off in the middle to shout “Laydeez ung jenklemon, lemmee untradooosh MYCAW BOOBLAY!” We were genuinely sorry to see you leave X Factor, Stacey Solomon – especially since you appeared to be transforming into an Afghan hound so quickly that the video to your first single would have almost certainly featured you catching frisbees in your mouth and drinking out of the toilet.

Olly Murs – Olly Murs knows what works for him. The grinning. The dancing. The face so huge that it constantly seems on the brink of shearing away from the rest of his head and crashing to the floor like an impressive jazz-funk rock slide. And we got a cavalcade of that from him on Saturday’s X Factor. That was typified by his last performance of the night – a re-run of Fool In Love that was exactly the same as it was last time he performed it. Not only did we get to see him dance like he had 30 electric eels inserted into his anal cavity, but he also put his shiny tight penis trousers on again. But by that point it was too little too late, so to speak.

True, Olly did manage to out-perform Robbie Williams during his Angels duet, but that’s only because a) Robbie fluffed his lines abominably at the start of the song, and b) the whole thing seemed like it was from the early stages of Britain’s Next Top Unbearable Pissed-Up Stag Night Karaoke Star rather than the final of X Factor. Still, at least we can classify the performance as a success, solely on the basis that Olly and Robbie didn’t tongue-kiss at the end. It was a close-run thing, but somehow they avoided it.

And that leaves us to deal with Olly’s opening song – a run-through of his first ever audition song, Stevie Wonder‘s timeless hit Superstition. Or, as Olly still seems to think its called, Surpistishah. That just about says it all, really.

Joe McElderry – For someone who went into the X Factor final as red-hot favourite, Toothy Joe made some peculiar choices on Saturday. His last song, chosen by Cheryl Cole as his best song of the series, was a version of Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word that sounded like what carbon monoxide poisoning probably feels like. It started off dreary and then, just as it looked like it was starting to get going, it ended.

And Joe’s opening number – a version of Dance With My Father Again – was utterly wayward. We couldn’t decide if he’d chosen to sing it in the style of Westlife, or in the style of the fictional musical Grieve! starring Su Pollard and H From Steps. Either way, it didn’t seem like an especially good advert for what we could expect from Joe’s post X Factor solo career.

However, we will admit that Joe redeemed himself slightly with his duet of Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me with George Michael. Admittedly that’s only because George Michael waddled on looking like either late-period Steve Wright or the world’s fattest Bond villain, honked out a semi-interested verse and steadfastly refused to look at Joe except for the moments when he seemed so exhausted by the effort of singing that he had to physically prop himself up on Joe’s shoulder for support. But it still counts as a victory, right? Right? Well done Leon Jac… we mean Joe McElderry. Well done.

Same time next year?

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter

December 26th of every year hecklerspray starts compiling its Christmas list for the next holiday season.

Thus far our 2008 compilation consists of things like a baby dolphin, a man-servant to drag said dolphin around and help make our parents jealous, and a life-size bust of George Michael‘s head made completely out of gold, diamonds and a deliciously nougatty center.

We’re 90% sure there’s a baby dolphin in a box under our mother’s bed, and we’ve noticed someone put man-servant.com on our internet browser’s favorites list, so we really think our first two examples are covered. As far as the gold and diamond Michael bust goes though – we’re quickly losing hope. The singer himself is said to be ordering the only one available.

It’s a good idea if you think about it though, because the statue can sit at the steering wheel with its eyes propped way open if he wanted another boozy parked car pass-out. That’ll mean less tickets.

The next time George Michael meets a congenial truck driver underneath a bush in the shady part of London, he’ll do so baring non-fleshy gifts. Sure, the fleshy gifts will probably be there too, but that’s not what we’re talking about here.

Also, the next time he issues a public apology for injecting puppy blood under his hairline to tighten up his sagging scalp (or whatever), he may just do so through unmoving golden lips covered in specks of diamond.

That’s because rumour has it he’s going to get him a £1 million statue of his own fat head. If what we heard is right, the way Michael’s favorite sunglasses sit on the bust is gonna be the deal clincher.

We didn’t hear that. We did hear this (The Daily Star):

“The king of bling George Michael is to buy a £1million gold and diamond model of his face…Art lover George, 45, has already eyed up a £50m diamond encrusted skull by Damien Hirst, 43…A source revealed: “George is very keen on getting a gold and diamond- encrusted statue of himself. “He loves the idea of having something so permanent.””

A golden statue of George Michael’s stupid head. Nice. That’ll look real good on the coffee table next to his George Michael’s stupid-head tea set, his George Michael’s stupid-head actual tell-time table-clock, and the plaster cast of his dead dog’s balls.

That’s just what we imagine he has in his house.

Because he’s famous and sentimental. And eccentric.

When George Michael is caught being a dimwit in public he tends to respond with either an apology or a furious phonecall to Richard & Judy.

And, since Richard & Judy isn’t on the telly any more, that means that George Michael only has one way to respond to his arrest this weekend on suspicion of sitting on a toilet in Hampstead Heath trying to eat a chunk of crack the size of an owl, or whatever it was that he was arrested for.

In short, now that he’s been cautioned for his possession of crack, George Michael has issued an apology to all his fans promising that he’s going to try and overcome his drug problems once and for all. And a good thing too, because all the George Michael fans needed to calm down – otherwise they’d have done a really slapdash job of cutting everyone’s hair today.

When you think of George Michael, you don’t instantly think of crack cocaine. That’s because, as history has shown us in the form of Pete Doherty, the music that a crack addiction produces is a sort of off-kilter retro indie that sounds like a tranquilised cat being tortured until it makes a noise that sounds like the worst song The Kinks ever wrote.

And since George Michael deals solely in insipid, mimsying soul ballads that only hairdressers and nurses are allowed to like, nobody really made the connection.

But it seems as if the connection is there. On Friday George Michael was arrested on suspicion of the possession of a Class A drug though to be crack after a toilet attendant in Hampstead Heath saw him acting all peculiar and reported him to the police.

It’s not the first time that George Michael has found himself in trouble because of drugs – in the past he’s been found slumped at the wheel of his car with cannabis in his possession, smoking as much cannabis as possible on national television and taking loads of whatever drug it is that makes you feel up unemployed van drivers in a bush in front of the world’s press.

But crack? That’s a much more serious problem. As we all know, prolonged exposure to crack makes you grow a funny haircut and start screeching the word “BLAKE!” at intermittent points throughout your songs, and that would never do.

However, it seems as if this arrest has made George Michael come to his senses a little, because in his obligatory post-arrest apology to fans, George Michael has hinted that he might be about to attempt something of a clean-up:

“I want to apologise to my fans for screwing up again, and to promise them I’ll sort myself out. And to say sorry to everybody else, just for boring them.”

Sorry, but this sounds like the most insincere piece of tosh we’ve ever heard. Not because George Michael constantly apologises to his fans after these drug arrests and yet he never seems to do anything about it, but because George Michael obviously doesn’t care about how much he bores people. If he did, all copies of Jesus To A Child would currently be sealed inside a lead box, encased in concrete and buried 400ft underground where it couldn’t do anybody any more damage.

Still, at least an arrest on suspicion of crack possession is probably as bad as things will ever get for George Michael. And, on the bright side, he’s now got something to pin his confusing friendship with Geri Halliwell a few years ago on. After all, a fevered crack-dependent mind is just about the only logical reason why anyone would willingly want to go through a mental torture like that.

Americans, if you happen to stumble across an incoherent hairy Greek man asleep at the wheel of his car this summer, don't be alarmed.

Although his unshaven appearance and man boogly eyes might make you think he's homeless or a terrorist, chances are it'll just be George Michael.

George Michael has announced his first tour of America for 17 years. It'll be an undoubtedly emotional tour for him – not only will it be a chance for George Michael to claw back some of the fame he lost there in the last decade and a half but he might even get a free weekend to wank at another policeman in a toilet again, just for old time's sake.

Over the last few years, George Michael literally couldn't have been more British. He's taken up all the traditional British pursuits like ringing up Richard And Judy and fondling men in bushes and almost doing it with pre-death Princess Diana – three things that all British men do at least quarterly.

But while George Michael has managed to keep hold of his predominantly hairdresser, nurse and wealthy Russian oligarch-based fanbase in the rest of the world, American success has eluded him lately. That's partly because George Michael is more well-known as the big-haired Wham! singer than anything else there, partly because his chances of American success died a slow death when he was trying to sue his record label in the early 1990s and partly because he waggled his penis at a policeman in a toilet there once, and that tends to be a little more interesting than singing songs about baby Jesus.

But now George Michael plans to fix all that, because he's hitting the road on his first American tour for 17 years. Reuters reports:

George Michael has a lot of "Faith" in his North American fans. The British pop singer on Monday unveiled plans for his first tour of the United States and Canada in 17 years, beginning June 17 at San Diego Sports Arena. The 22-date arena trek runs through August 3 at the BankAtlantic Center in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Tickets for the "25 Live" tour go on sale to the general public on April 6th, a week after fan club members get first dibs. Ticketmaster currently lists one show, the July 7 gig at Saint Paul, MN., where the top price is $175.

George Michael's American tour is set to last for seven weeks, although there's a chance it'll take quite a lot longer than that if George Michael drives himself. Unless the tour is scheduled to be a narcoleptic tour of traffic roundabouts at 3am mumbled from inside his own car, in which case everything's going to be just dandy. 

Read more:

George Michael plans first U.S. tour in 17 years – Reuters 

Want to know exactly what was going through George Michael's mind when he waggled his todger at a policeman in a public Los Angeles toilet?

Oh, come on, yes you do. You do. Just like you want to know how George Michael felt when he called up Richard and Judy to defend getting caught wanking off a stranger in a bush.

And soon you'll know, because George Michael has just announced that he's to write his autobiography, and it'll include every single important event from his life apart from all the bits that he forgot because he fell asleep in the middle of them.

George Michael has a lifestyle that millions of people violently envy daily. Admittedly, they're the millions of people whose dream life consists of nothing but falling asleep in inappropriate places and then romping off to the park to masturbate ugly strangers, but they still count.

But until now we've never really got a handle on what George Michael is like deep down. Sure, we know he's the bloke from Wham! who Princess Diana wanted to shag. We know that he's either self-deprecating enough to appear as himself in the Extras Christmas special or so stubbornly humourless that he screams about suing the whole world after it's seen him rummaging with a man's winky in a bush. We know that George Michael loves the drugs.

That's all, though, and we're so desperate to know more that we regularly just give up and start crying because we don't know the precise ins and outs of George Michael's everyday life. But that'll all change next year, though, because that's when George Michael's tell-all autobiography will be released. What's more, it'll make George Michael rich beyond his wildest dreams. Reuters reports:

Pop star George Michael will write a no-holds-barred biography to appear in autumn 2009 after signing what HarperCollins called "one of the biggest book deals ever concluded in UK publishing." The deal was agreed by Belinda Budge, managing director and publisher of Harper NonFiction UK, and Michael's manager Andy Stephens and his book agency. "George has promised HarperCollins a no-holds-barred biography, and it's certain to be just that," Stephens said. "People aren't stupid. They're beginning to notice that the truth is more interesting than the stories the press come up with!"

There's no doubt whatsoever that George Michael's autobiography will top the bestseller list – specifically the Nurses And Hairdressers bestseller list – as people rush out eager to discover George's dark secrets, like how often he fumbles with men he's never met in hedges, what he thinks about being worshipped by that Terrahawk woman from EastEnders or what the hell "guilty feet have got no rhythm" is actually supposed to sodding mean.

At the moment, it's thought that George Michael is trying to work out a structure for his autobiography – for instance, he doesn't know if he should bundle all the 'falling asleep' stories together and all the 'masturbation' stories together, or if a sleep/ wank/ sleep/ wank pattern would be more effective. 

We guess we'll find out when Sleep/Wank: The Memoirs Of That Greek Bloke From Wham! is published next year.

Read more: 

George Michael to write autobiography - Reuters