Paul McCartney is bringing a new album out. There’s a phrase that hasn’t caused too much excitement since Wings were knee-high to a grasshopper. Unless, of course, you’re a bloated Beatle fanatic who is unable to hear any criticism against any of the Fabs. Ever.

Unless it’s Ringo.

The fact remains, Macca is going to stick a new LP out on 7th February and he’s doing a whole bunch of cover versions because, sadly for him, he’s run out of ideas. The last vague hit he had was ‘Dance Tonight’ and that was thoroughly poo.

Apparently, this new album will be a “deeply personal journey” which will see Macca covering old-timey American songs that inspired him and bandmate John Lennon when they wrote their own tunes.

In a statement (because new albums definitely need ‘a statement’), Sir Paulio said:

“When I kind of got into songwriting, I realized how well structured these songs were, and I think I took a lot of my lessons from them”

“I always thought artists like Fred Astaire were very cool. Writers like Harold Arlen, Cole Porter, all of those guys – I just thought the songs were magical. And then, as I got to be a songwriter I thought it’s beautiful, the way they made those songs.”

Well duh.

McCartney will be teaming up with jazzist Diana Krall and producer Tommy LiPuma who got the recovering mop top to record his vocals in a booth without instruments for the first time in his musical career.

“It was very spontaneous, kind of organic, which then reminded me of the way we’d work with the Beatles. We’d bring a song in, kick it around, when we found a way to do it we’d say ‘Okay, let’s do a take now’ and by the time everyone kind of had an idea of what they were doing, we’d learnt the song. So that’s what we did, we did the take live in the studio.”

So how’s he been doing it since The Beatles? Being lazy and accepting that the first version is the one that gets used because everyone surrounding him is constantly telling him how bloody wonderful he is?

Not that Paul will be short of sycophants on this new album as he’s drafted in Stevie Wonder and Eric Clapton to tickle his ego. That said, Stevie and Clapton probably won’t be in the same room together, especially if Mr Wonder recalls Clapton once shouting from the stage of a show:

“Do we have any foreigners in the audience tonight? If so, please put up your hands. Wogs I mean, I’m looking at you… Where are you? I’m sorry but some fucking wog… Arab grabbed my wife’s bum, you know? Surely got to be said, yeah this is what all the fucking foreigners and wogs over here are like, just disgusting, that’s just the truth, yeah. So where are you? Well wherever you all are, I think you should all just leave. Not just leave the hall, leave our country.”

“Get the foreigners out. Get the wogs out. Get the coons out. Keep Britain white. I used to be into dope, now I’m into racism. It’s much heavier, man. Fucking wogs, man. Fucking Saudis taking over London. Bastard wogs… Enoch for Prime Minister! Throw the wogs out! Keep Britain white!”

Ebony and ivory, live together in perfect harmony. Side-by-side on my piano, keyboard…

The McCartney family have done alright for themselves haven’t they? Weird that those related to a Beatle should make it completely off their own bat, eh? No help from famous papa there at all! Nope. Never.

Anyway, the child that has done the best is Sir Paul McCartney’s daughter Stella. She likes making clothes that you can’t afford.

Now, she’s created a perfume in tribute to her mother, Linda, which is an absolute godsend for people who like to make snide jokes about the deceased.

So, what’s this perfume called then?

Well, it’s called L.I.L.Y. It will be launched at some point between this precise moment and the end of time. Yes, that’s quite vague, but in all honesty, if you cared enough about it, you’d piss-off and read a beauty blog with its tips about cigarette pants, the various fruit-shapes of women and which concealer makes you look less minging.

The name stands for Linda I Love You, which, if you didn’t know, was a nickname given to Linda by Sir Macca.

You’re probably wondering what the perfume smells of, aren’t you?

Well, if it’s a proper tribute to Linda McCartney, it should smell of sprout farts, keyboards, seal tears, mullets, out of tune backing vocals and soya sausages.

Right? Wrong! Apparently, it smells like lily of the valley as well as having hints of truffle and oak moss. And sprout farts.

Perfumer Jacques Cavallier says:

“The truffle was unusual, but I said OK to Stella. I actually told the suppliers we were working with that the extract was for a restaurant! I didn’t want to let people know what we were doing.”

HAHAHAHA! Jacques Cavallier is soooooo funny isn’t he?! WHAT A CAD! Perfumers really are the funniest, wittiest people on Earth aren’t they?

We’re giving up. There’s no point carrying on with talent like that elsewhere. We’re off to make a perfume that smells like Ringo Starr (drumstools and spaghetti hoops).

Sir Paul McCartney, of forgotten ’70s beat group Wings, has for some peculiar reason, had his phone hacked by ‘so-called journalists’ and he’s gone grassing everyone up to the police. Including us. We got a letter informing us we’d be under investigation.

Even though we only have one PAYG mobile phone (the one with Snake II on), we do use it to get into people’s voicemails. We’ve got a great story about the not very famous comedian David Schneider, but that’s for another time.

Anyway, Macca is not pleased that we’ve been in his messages, very much in the same way his former wife, Heather Mills, was hopping mad (fnarr) that she’d had her voicemails hacked into and, of course, John Lennon’s chest was very much breached by Mark Chapman with his best gun.

Sir Paul says:

“I am going to talk to the police because apparently I have been hacked. I don’t know much about it because they won’t tell anyone except the person themselves.”

“I do think it’s a horrendous violation of privacy. I do think it has been going on for a long time and I do think more people than we know knew about it.”

Of course, these incredibly famous people aren’t bothered about us. They only want to sue famous people. The Muccas are subsequently going after CNN suet head, Piers Morgan, who edited the Mirror from 1995 to 2004. He’s getting all this lovely stick, thereby allowing us to get off scot-free.

Naturally, Piers denies any involvement in phone hacking, despite the fact he once wrote:

‘At one stage I was played a tape of a message Paul had left for Heather on her mobile phone. It was heartbreaking.’

‘The couple had clearly had a tiff, Heather had fled to India, and Paul was pleading with her to come back.

‘He sounded lonely, miserable and desperate, and even sang ‘We Can Work It Out ‘ into the answerphone.’

Aaaw! Bless Sir Paul. Although, he really should’ve crooned one of his more erratic hits. Any of these would have been great.

Still, funny how everyone is taking phone hacking seriously, given that everyone thought Heather Mills was mental for saying such a thing all those years ago.

You fickle ogres.

Meanwhile, Ringo wonders why no-one ever wants to hack his phone and has been seen handing out his phone number to strangers and telling them his pin-code for his voicemail.

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Paul McCartney is all set to headline the opening ceremony of London 2012 Olympic Games alongside other British music stars who probably aren’t nearly as good. Unless they get Girls Aloud on which would be amazing.

The Beatle has told organisers of London 2012 he is “up for” playing at the opener, but which songs he will play is yet to be seen. Or organised at all probably. And Ringo Starr won’t be there, which is simultaneously a shame and of little consequence.

But which songs should Macca consider? Sure, he’s got a massive back catalogue to play with, but there’s some cheeky tracks that are less famous that he should really think about including.

A source says:

“The hope was to have the cream of British music all in the line-up but it now looks like Paul will be joined on stage by some younger stars.

“But of all the people you want, McCartney is number one. He is the ultimate showman and guaranteed to get the Olympics off to a great start.”

He’s not the only McCartney taking part. His daughter, Stella, is designing the kit for the British Olympic team too! That’s nice isn’t it? Not really. We couldn’t care less. And isn’t Heather Mills practising her skiing for the Olympics or something?

Anyway, forget all that. Which songs should Macca play to surprise everyone?

Check My Machine

One of Macca’s weirdest little indulgent moments, but oddly fantastic (why hasn’t someone done a mash-up with this and Carly Simon’s ‘Why?’). Imagine if Sir Paul walked on-stage, performed this, flicked a peace-sign and just buggered off. It would be astonishing.

Give Ireland Back To The Irish

Paul could see such a gigantic worldwide audience as a platform for his own political views and this would be a hilarious thing to perform in the middle of London with Boris Johnson and David Cameron looking on. He should sport an IRA balaclava for maximum impact also.

Temporary Secretary

Just listen to this synth based gonzo pop track and just imagine the look on the face of Sebastian Coe as it thunders out of the speakers at the Olympic stadium. It could well be the most amazing moment in British history.

Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?

Coming in a under 2 minutes, Macca could get his paycheck and slope off for an afternoon off if he performed this. Anyone who complains should be met with “Well, I said I’d do a Beatles tune didn’t I?”

Something from his ‘Fireman’ alter ego

Sound collages and nonsense. Exactly what our Olympics need.

Coming Up

Sir Paul should actually clone himself so he can recreate the video for ‘Coming Up’, complete with his amazing impression of the keyboard player from Sparks.

We All Stand Together

Big sporting events are often soundtracked by a notion of ‘togetherness’ and ‘oneness’. Paul could say… “Okay. You wanted ‘All You Need Is Love’, but that was kinda John’s song… so why not have this instead? And you’ll like it as well. That’s because I’m a Beatle and can do as I please. And yes. I am dressed up as Rupert Bear. What of it?”

Silly Love Songs

The thing that London 2012 really needs is some cod-disco and you damn well know it.

Say Say Say

Of course, Michael Jackson is dead. So who could sit in on MJ’s vocals? Tulisa from N Dubz? Jedward? If he does this, he could go straight into ‘The Girl Is Mine’ as well, and that’d be worth it just for the “I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” bit.

No Songs At All.

He’s a Beatle ferchrissakes! He can do whatever he pleases! So he shouldn’t do any songs at all and just make some mashed potatoes to irritate everyone!

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We despair about living in England. Out of every country in the world, we are the only nation that takes pride in former glories and absolutely nothing else. We’ve got nothing to look forward to. Nothing.

And when it comes to music, no band takes our regressive national pride to stalker-levels like The Beatles. It’s an actual fact that people in Liverpool aren’t christened in holy water. Instead, melted down Beatles records are used to make sure any young child gets a proper passage into the world we live in.

Even though the fab four haven’t made a record for decades (seriously! What’s George Harrison up to these days? Nothing. Lazy oaf!) it hasn’t stopped rock n’ roll granddad Paul McCartney from muscling in with his ideas on how an ageing band with no relevance on modern music can help creating an exciting opening Olympic ceremony. Where’s Mark Chapman when you need him?

When the Olympics do finally arrive, we can only assume that people in the North of England will be grumpy about the whole thing, even though the government want to promote this as a celebration of sport for the entire country, everything seems to be focussed on our nation’s capital.

London itself is pretty much dominated with ropey late night chicken places and people freaking out when a couple of snowflakes fall to the ground, grinding the transport system to a halt. Up in the grim north, nothing much is planned, mainly because people in the south are under the impression that electricity and colour haven’t reached cities such as Manchester, Newcastle and Leeds (although, in the case of the latter, it happens to be true).

Essentially when you dissect the Olympics, it’s just a massively expensive school sports day.

So what is Macca doing there? We don’t know what the Wingsman has planned, but if he really wants to involve all four members of The Beatles, it’ll prove challenging.

Only yesterday, we brought you news of a Japanese monster, forcefully destroying the peace and tranquillity of a pub in Dundee. So it’ll probably be a no-go in regards to propping up the corpse of John Lennon and strapping a guitar to him. Thinking about it further, local seagulls will probably peck his eyes out. Somebody said:

“Macca was just being coy about the details. He has been speaking to organisers and has said he’d love to be involved with the games in some way. The organisers want the music legend to appear alongside other big British acts. And they also want Ringo on stage as well to make it extra special.”

The involvement of Ringo sounds like a bit desperate to us. Sir Paul is probably trying to up his game because Glee are much, much better and more successful than anything The Beatles ever accomplished.

Maybe, just maybe, Macca will simply recreate this piece of Beatle-magic? Here’s hoping.

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Don’t mess with a Beatle. Even the most irritating of Beatles will be favoured over other humans, simply because they’re responsible for those tunes you like. Unbelievably, Heather Mills swiped the crown of most loathed Beatlespouse from Yoko Ono, who seemed to have it in the bag for life.

See, while Yoko initially got heat because everyone was kinda racist toward her, she eventually settled into the world’s ire by simply being a pretentious artist (and no-one likes anyone from the artworld).

Then, along came Heather Mills and, thanks in part to having one leg which made for excruciatingly easy and tiresome jokes from the stand-up universe, became so hated that the National Grids managed to power our homes just on our collective irritation. Then she divorced daft, wacky ol’ Macca and the seething bubbled over into all-out hate. This ensured that any mishap that befell her would be met with titters.

So what’s happened now? Well, while she’s been training to participate in the 2014 Paralympic Winter Games, silly ol’ Heather has broken her shoulder in a skiing accident. As Sonny Bono’s Ghost will testify, people tend to laugh at skiing accidents. Even fatal ones.

That’s because only posh people go skiing, so if you have a dreadful accident, everyone can dismiss it as hilarious, even if you’ve already tragically lost your leg. We, the people, are a cruel and unforgiving bunch. Deal with it, slebs.

According to an Austrian newspaper called Kleine Zeitung, Heather was whisked off to Lienz Hospital by a helicopter, where the pilot probably whistled the guitar solo to Maybe I’m Amazed at her, just for giggles.

At the hospital, Mills roughed it like us plebs by having her bed cordoned off for privacy.

The result of all this will, naturally, be that Heather will appear on various chatshows talking about how people ‘don’t believe’ that people with disabilities can do things like sports, despite the fact everyone absolutely does believe that people with disabilities can do great things. Look at how everybody loves Tanni Grey-Thompson… look at how much she doesn’t constantly whine and bitch to everyone ALL THE SHITTING TIME.

Anyway, the incredibly wealthy Heather Mills will be rubbing her shoulder for a while and we probably won’t hear the end of it.

Inspirational.

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Heather Mills is a nice lady isn’t she? She’s an inspiration to anyone who has lost a limb. She’s proven that you don’t need both legs to be chastised and widely loathed. Striking a blow for real, practical equality, her existence has shown that people can be just as nasty to those with a disability as those without.

Great work Heather.

She’s also responsible for bringing The Beatles up-to-date. It’s all her doing. Before Mills, The Fab Four were seen as irrelevant and without any worth at all, but thanks to her wheeling and dealing, they’re now a vital cultural cog in society. Isn’t she just swell?

That’s right!

The ex-wife of Sir Paul McCartney is adamant that we should all be thanking her for The Beatles’ back catalogue becoming available online. It is thanks to her that we can buy music we already own and rip it to our computers from CDs we’ve had for years.

She “organised it all”. EVERYTHING!

This of course, flies in the face of the fact that executives at EMI/Parlophone have been in talks with McCartney and Ringo Starr to put The Beatles’ tracks on the digital store. Lets not forget that The Beatles have a company called Apple Corps who have been working and squabbling with Apple for some time now.

However, last month, the Fabs’ music was (finally) launched online, shifting two million songs and over 450,000 albums sold in the first week alone. That’s quite astonishing really.

And it is Heather Mills who is responsible for the whole deal.

“iTunes? I organised it all with Steve Jobs.”

You’re probably thinking that she’s being rather self-centred about the whole thing. Far from it. She’s all heart about the matter, magnanimously adding;

“there’s no way I’m going back to court for more money. It was all settled at the time and that’s it.”

She’s a fucking Saint of a woman, eh?

Next week: Heather Mills claims to have invented the wheel.

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If you tried to think of a celebrity as equally unappealing as shrieking harridan Heather Mills for her to have a public dispute with you couldn’t go far wrong with odious potato-faced toad Piers Morgan.

And you’d be right, because that is what’s happened in a Press Complaints Commission investigation completed yesterday.

The unintentionally hilarious Mills – whose face increasingly resembles a crude caricature drawn by a ‘special’ child – has objected to an article written by Morgan in which he describes his “eternal shame” at having been the cretin to introduce her to Paul McCartney in the first place. She says this isn’t true – not the ‘shame’ thing, but the ‘introduction’ thing, in the mistaken belief that anyone gives a toss.

Adding fuel to the self-righteous fire that constantly burns inside her head, Morgan went on to compare the song-writing ability of McCartney with Mills’ own literary output, which he unfavourably described as “nothing but bleating letters of complaint to newspapers and divorce lawyers”.

Mills’ genius response? She told the commission that actually, she’d written some books as well, so it’s not all ‘bleating letters’ is it? That was genuinely her big comeback.

When probed by the Commission as to exactly how many of these books she had written, Mills is reported as having replied “at least three”.

At. Least. Three.

This is the point we like to imagine the Commission staring at her without blinking for two solid minutes whilst trying to work out if she was taking the piss before telling the screeching peg-leg to bugger off.

At time of writing the Press Complaints Commission has entirely rejected her complaint, although does concede that she had “written a number of books”, according to The Independent.

Any sympathy generated for Piers Morgan immediately evaporated when everyone remembered that, well, he’s Piers Morgan isn’t he?

A number of snarky celebrity websites have expressed their concern that Mills may do them out of a job if she continues to act like such a colossal tool.

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Reality shows have often confused and left us scratching our heads as to what they’re about.

Big Brother isn’t about siblings. Strictly Come Dancing sounds like some sort of torturous experience. And A Shot Of Love With Tila Tequila? That could literally be anything if you’ve got a filthy enough mind.

What is plain, simple and to the point is Dancing On Ice. It literally does what it says on the tin. Some people will attempt to skate on some ice whilst falling over for our amusement. But they aren’t just any people – they’re celebrities! Therefore it adds immediate coolness. Because we wouldn’t watch if it was a family from Stoke battling against one from Coventry. After the jump, the personalities who’ll be breaking their arms on the ice when the show returns in January.

Sinitta – Does she really have one name or is she one of those Brazilian types who like to add dramatic effect to themselves? Despite being a singer once, we can’t remember anything she’s ever sung. All she’s known for now is being Simon Cowell‘s ex-girlfriend and scarily wearing just banana leaves on this year’s X Factor.

Mikey Graham – Are Boyzone still going or are they just on an extended holiday? This Irishman is a member of the group, so he’ll quite likely squeal a pitch-perfect tone if he accidentally gets his ballsack stuck to the ice while making an arse of a routine.

Tana Ramsay – Wife of Gordon Ramsay. Could win from sympathy votes alone.

Heather Mills – She would like to be known as a charity worker, peg-leg or the star of a 1980s German sex manual, but this won’t happen. Legions of sad Beatles fanboys will watch in vain hoping she breaks her one remaining leg. If I’m A Celebrity-style challenges could be used on this show, Heather Mills would be voted to do them all.

Dr. Hilary Jones – Just give the man the title now, he is a legend of morning TV. Thanks to his advice, we’ve been able to safely clean up our leaky nipple problem without going to see a real GP. The sort of man you wouldn’t let near your children despite looking so trustworthy.

Bobby Davro – Look at this video. Fast-forward to 3.50. Realise that you don’t want this man to be famous again. Vote him off Dancing On Ice at the first possible opportunity.

Danniella Westbrook – Most famous for losing half her nose then her rubbish acting on EastEnders, she is going to be the producers’ modern and trendy’ contestant. Even though pensioners will hate her for being an ex-drug addict.

Jeremy Sheffield – Starred in second rate Casualty spin-off Holby City where he fixed dying people and told relatives that the insides of their loved ones are splattered across various motorways. Once starred in a car advert, so he’ll be looking to expand his profile after the show. Also a trained ballet dancer, which hardly seems very fair.

Hayley Tamaddon – No idea.

Danny Young – From Coronation Street, which might mean something to some of you.

Gary Lucy – Started off in Hollyoaks and went up the shit TV ladder to Footballers Wives. Presumably living off the income off DVD sales of stuff he’s starred in, this will give him a cash boost until he resorts to doing porn.

Emily Atack – This shows how desperate the programme is for ‘celebrities’ when they ask someone whose major TV role has been to play ten-second roles as Neil’s sister in Channels 4’s The Inbetweeners. Won’t get very far as she is a model and fat girls who can’t ice skaters will hate her. Related to Paul McCartney, though, so that could (won’t) be interesting.

Kieron Richardson – Another Hollyoaks person. Says it all.

Sharron Davies – Someone must have lied to this poor Olympic swimmer. Not only is she the most talented there, but she will find it hard to breaststroke through solid ice.

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Much can be said about Heather Mills. Much has been said about Heather Mills. It’s safe to say that we aren’t the only ones who have said things about Heather Mills.

So we did kind of expect her to fight back in some way, what with her being a bit “interesting” in the head.

What we didn’t expect was that she’d wish cancer on anyone who had ever wronged her, tumours on those who had slighted her and death to those who gave her funny looks.

Sure, she denied she’d actually said that, but we happen to trust The Observer over Bionic Commandette.

Let’s make one thing clear: hecklerspray is not the type to unfairly judge people, places or things, as we are really, really nice.

Unless it’s Heather Mills. And even then, technically, it’s fairly judging her.

Where some celeb-types attract scorn simply by being who they are
(and through the help of millions of squawking, cloying, piss-stained females), or by dying, some bring it on themselves by being a massive, massive twat.

Who would like to guess which side Heather Mills falls into?

And now – as we believe The Observer – we have an even better reason than before to slate the self-obsessed, sympathy-hungry eterno-victim.

In an interview printed this past Sunday, Heather Mills reportedly said:

“The truth always outs in the end – no-one gets away with those things. Certain journalists have written horrible things, and then they’ve got cancer, or they’ve had a tumour, or they’ve died. And it’s terrible for them, but they’ve done really evil things. I truly believe things come back round.”

Why the paper would print her as saying that without her actually saying it we do not know – it’s pretty obvious they would get the crap sued out of them. But the woman with the best hecklerspray picture available on our database quickly backtracked, through her new favourite means of communicating with us peasants: Twitter.

It may just be our mind working overtime, but that does seem very much like a comment from a hecklerspray user. She later added:

We may be gullible – we may be – but Heather Mills did say:

“The truth always outs in the end – no-one gets away with those things. Certain journalists have written horrible things, and then they’ve got cancer, or they’ve had a tumour, or they’ve died. And it’s terrible for them, but they’ve done really evil things. I truly believe things come back round.”

Apparently.

It’s happened before and it will happen again – stories that are simply too good, that write themselves and just don’t need any additional comment to make them funny.

Obviously that won’t stop us from commenting on them, as we’re nice like that.

This week came the particularly special news that ex-Beatle-ex and hecklerspray mainstay Heather Mills was asked to appear in the Capcom game Bionic Commando.
For those not clued-in, Bionic Commando is a remake of a 22–year-old game about a bloke with a robotic arm who goes around swinging from things using a built-in extendo grappling hand and shooting bad bastards to save the world.

It’s easy to see why they approached Heather Mills. The similarities are… errm… yeah. Though there is a chance that neither of them can jump.

After The Sun reported the story last week, it wasn’t long before Heather responded in her trademark level-headed fashion through the godsend for celebrity reportage that is Twitter:

“Got offered to promote an amputee bionic computer game, from a wealthy computer games company I said if you donate a large sum to charity. The stingy company came back saying they couldn’t, what happened to charitable businesses, seems they just want to exploit and give nothing”

Ah, another one of Heather Mills’ trademark personality traits – selfless generosity. A charity campaigner she may be, but that’s a charity campaigner with quite a cushy lifestyle thanks in no small part to an astonishing divorce settlement and many questions surrounding how many of her claimed donations she has actually made.

But back to the news – let’s try and analyse how the thinking behind this went.

She has a false leg.

That’s about it.

What that means is she isn’t really the kind of “bionic” Capcom were looking for. One is a ridiculously over-the-top money grabbing ploy, harking back to a past it cannot hope to recreate and involving some ludicrous false body parts.

The other is Bionic Commando.

Now whoever didn’t see that joke coming can just leave. Forever. Even if we did just refer to Heather Mills as a “ploy”.

And this is all without even mentioning the bit about how Mills now wants a game made where you can “shock the privates” of The Sun journalists. Bit harsh, love – we can be good people.

Elsewhere this week in News Making Us Go “Eh?” – it was reported, though swiftly retracted, that Bill Clinton had been approached to appear in professional time-stealing title Fallout 3. Who was big Willy set to play? Why, the President of the United States, of course.

It may have turned out to be a half-truth, but it still made us giggle a fair amount.

And it would have been a billion times better than any game with Heather Mills in it.

THIS WEEK: We were both annoyed and delighted by the news that Demon’s Souls is to be brought to the US, meaning it’s surely only a matter of time before it gets a proper release in Europe. Obviously this is brilliant, but why did they wait until two months after someone had forked out £48 for a copy to break the news? Arse.

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For as long as mankind has had any level of self-awareness, we’ve all enjoyed watching one-legged middle aged women flip, twirl, and rhythmically pounce all about.

That’s why even if it had aired ten thousand years ago, that Dancing With The Stars season wherein Heather Mills was featured would have scored real high in the Nielsen ratings. Think of the advertising rates cavemen would have been willing to pay!

Donald Trump, at least momentarily, thought it would be a pretty good idea to have Mills sitting in his Celebrity Apprentice boardroom. We don’t blame him – she’d scuff the carpet 50% less than anyone else, vastly elongating the life of whatever carpet is involved. That’s why Trump’s a millionaire – he thinks about the little things like that.

Ends up though that Mills isn’t welcome on that show. According to rumour, she demanded a contractual stipulation that said if she appeared on the show, she’d be guaranteed a spot in the finale.

America likes to look at Heather Mills, but not for an entire season at a time. Watching her limp around everywhere she goes is enough to make a viewer’s own knees hurt, and that can only lead to a channel change.

On Celebrity Apprentice she would have been tolerable only so long as the competitive tasks included things like protecting baby seals with Paul McCartney‘s jagged frozen corpse, and also getting a long drawn out divorce from that same dead body, or those same defended baby seals.

If the team competitions included things like that, Mills would soar to the finale on wings of the purest gold. That’s a metaphor for ‘with great ease.’ It was first made popular with the Mesopotamians, and later caught on well with the Roman culture.

But Donald Trump knows it would be foolish to give Mills such a tremendous advantage over the other contestants. No, she’d be on level playing ground with everyone else – and her chances of going home would be exactly the same as her competitors.

Perhaps that’s why when NBC approached her to be in the coming season, it was reported that she agreed only so long as she was guaranteed to be a finalist.

The Sun says:

“HEATHER MILLS lost a role in the US version of Celebrity Apprentice — after demanding a clause in her contract guaranteeing a place in the final. Mills…was lined up to take part in the reality TV hit…But producers at US network NBC got cold feet when she insisted she appear in the final regardless of her success in the show’s tasks. Producers refused, even though she headed the list of celebrities they wanted for the programme.”

We heard her contract also had a clause to provide her with love, life-long companionship and new leg made from sausage and pig tendons, but the NBC department that usually provides that kind of stuff is booked clean through ’til March.

We didn’t actually hear that.

You know when you fill out a job application and you have to answer questions like: 'Have you ever been convicted of a crime?'; 'Would you be willing to submit to random drug testing?'; and 'Would you be willing to feign attraction to a volatile, squeaky-voiced woman with three remaining limbs who will likely take her drawers off to get you not to eat meat?'

No one ever thinks that last one is for real, so the answer is always ‘yes’. But, a poor hotel worker man has to look that question square in the face now that he is dating Heather Mills, and she’s rather delighted about it all.

Yay! It’s a rare night when we aren’t tossing in turmoil over Heather Mills’ happiness.

Heather Mills isn’t just an activist for defenseless edible creatures, or a former model especially popular with the seeing-impaired demographic, but she’s also, of course, Paul McCartney’s ex-wife, who was awarded a paltry £24 million in the divorce.

She’s also a woman that screeches like a banshee when she gets upset, but that doesn’t mean she’s not looking for love.

So, we submit to you, the impartial jury, what man would not want to get with that? What man? Every single man anywhere ever, actually, except for this one guy, Jamie Walker.

No, you don’t know him, and neither do we. The only reason you should care is that six months from now when you hear about a new reality show coming out featuring Heather McCartney and her man-accessory picking our dressy prosthetic legs for a forthcoming charity auction, you’ll have a vague recollection of him, and it will bring you fond memories of us, as well as save you an internet search.

Anyway, Heather dug him up at the Tenerife Hotel she was staying at with her unfortunately-named daughter, Beatrice. This Jamie character is pretty much the exact opposite of Paul McCartney. He’s 36 years old, brawny, muscular, hasn’t been a member of The Beatles, and reportedly doesn’t have two coins to rub together between shifts handing out towels to rich divorcees at the pool.

It appears Heather isn’t put off by his lack of fortune, though. She knows what’s really important: his rockin’ bod. A so-called “friend” of Heather’s had this to say:

“Heather is completely infatuated with Jamie. He is a gym junkie and Heather has been boasting his body is so much fitter than Paul's.”

In other news, this year’s Master of the Obvious award goes to Heather Mills for her poignant observations between the physique of her 66-year-old ex, and her current 36-year-old hunk of man candy. We will re-broadcast her acceptance speech once we have slowed it down and lowered the pitch so that dogs aren’t the only ones who can hear it.

It's difficult to imagine what sort of corporate environment Heather Mills would flourish within – Widely Despised Monoped GoldDiggers Inc, perhaps, or Beatle Fleecers PLC.

That hasn't stopped suspiciously-haired zillionaire Donald Trump from name-dropping Ms. Mills in relation to the new series of US show The Celebrity Apprentice, however.

After the last batch of episodes featured such luminaries as Lennox Lewis, Piers Morgan, Gene Simmons and that bloke who was shot on a boat in The Sopranos, Trump has confirmed that several wannabes have been angling for a slot in the new run… and that the ex-Ms. McCartney was among them.

Trump waffled thus:

"Because The Apprentice did so well last time around, lots of people want to be on it. Including Heather Mills. We start shooting in four weeks. The names will be revealed then." 

Should Mills take part, she'll be required to give any winnings to a charity of her choice, which will no doubt increase the time she spends campaigning from 23 hours a day to 37, thereby tearing a rip in the fabric of time and possibility that may well affect the strip lighting mechanics over at Trump Towers.

Seems a bit unfair, to be honest – giving all that cash away when her poor five-year-old daughter is trying desperately to survive on a diet of twigs, moss and collected rainwater. Or was that £36,000-per-year? We can never remember.

Anyway – as the D-Man said – the show enters production in a month or so, which is presumably when you can expect to see Heather taking part in embarrassing corporate stunts and hawking arbitrary products on QVC. Which – in some parallel non-Beatle-marrying universe – she's been doing for the last six years anyway.

It’s fair to say that John Lennon was a bit of a musical genius. He and Paul McCartney momentarily stopped nicking cars and Hobnobs from the corner shop to write a whole load of pop tunes. These songs captivated a city, a country and later the whole world.

However, every successful star has a downfall, and he had a couple. But unlike today’s woozy musicians, like the moon crater face bloke from Keane, the copious amounts of drugs he took didn’t knacker him up. Instead, it was a stumpy Japanese woman called Yoko Ono.

Once she got hold of him, he kind of went a bit soppy, writing billions of songs in her honour. His other silly mistake was getting naked on a 1968 Rolling Stone cover with her. Not a pleasant sight. After John Lennon got his brains splattered across New York, she disappeared for a while. But still reappeared now and then to tell us that she was married to a Beatle.

Now she’s back to defend peg-legged Heather Mills. Another ex-Beatle’s wife. But, while Linda McCartney left us nothing but a horrible line of frozen food meals, Paul McCartney’s latest divorcee hasn’t quite done anything on such a scale. Probably because she isn’t dead yet. Though she is quite well hated now by a) gold-diggers who didn’t get to Paul first and b) legions of deluded Beatles fans who worship the ground their hero walks on.

Does it matter if he puts out a totally strange and crap classical-sounding album? Of course not, these fans will lap it up. The same fans who undoubtedly know where their hero buys his burgers and jockstraps.  

The ongoing Heather Mills v Paul McCartney feud has been gripping the nation for months. We’ve even been told that Hollywood wants to make a five-hour epic movie starring the two. Heather’s story will be told as a poor pauper girl who one day meets Paul, the man of her dreams at a vegetarian cook-off competition.

After discussing the ins and outs of leaf and pinecone soup, the two marry, argue and then fight. But it’s no ordinary fight. Their anti-meat diet gives them super powers. Powers where they fight through distant galaxies – in the past, present and future.

Rat milk drinker Heather recently got a fair slice of her ex’s wealth in last month's divorce settlement. How does £24.3 million sound? Not bad by anyone’s standards, but Heather was still hopping mad. And, no, it wasn’t because some cruel bastard nicked her false leg.

With that sort of money at her disposal, she can now afford a leg for all occasions. White and pasty; tanned and gorgeous; or battered and bruised.  

The press have never been kind to poor Heather. Ever since the two announced their marriage, plenty of people, including Paul’s own daughter Stella, said it would never work out.

Everyone was right, and if we’d been bothered to put a bet on, we would have been rolling in the money. Just like Heather is now. So while everyone shakes their fist at Heather Mills in anger, an unlikely source has come to her aid. That’s right, the former squeeze of John Lennon, Yoko Ono. She told Now Magazine:

"It's not very easy for a woman to be associated with The Beatles. I think all the wives did suffer, but suffered quietly and endured."

How it would be hard is beyond us. If we happened to be attached to someone famous, we think we could cope. Of course, our egos would swell and we’d demand vintage 1989 Tango, but is that so much to ask?

As our other-halves made all the money, we’d sit buy and count it all up – before throwing it in the air and re-counting it again.

Read More -  Yoko Ono defends Heather Mills saying its hard to be married to a Beatle – Now Magazine