Well, knock us down with a feather. It must be that time of the week again. The time when we force our hands into the stinking, wretched filth that comes into the hecklerspray mailbox.
To give you an idea of what our mailbag actually resembles, allow us to paint you a picture. With words. Imagine taking a bowl of delicious, ripe fruit and writing a series of misguided, offended or just plain idiotic messages on each pieces and then leaving it to rot. Then imagine putting the pulped, putrid remains of the fruit into a plastic carrier bag and leaving it in a very humid room for a couple of weeks.
Read More >>>
Every week, we have the unfortunate task of picking our way through your crusted correspondence to find the most depraved, hideous scrawlings to put on the site for everyone to laugh at. This week, it was a little bit easier as our drooling mass of a readership left a slug trail right to some of the most sexually-charged content that has ever deposited itself in our post bag thanks to a certain Ms. Scarlett Johansson.
Yes, everyone’s favourite bombshell had her phone hacked as hecklerspray brought the curious masses a skin-exclusive and everyone wanted to get in touch to reveal their masturbatory habits. There’s also veiled threats from Kasabian’s representatives, a singing Michael Jackson and a screaming INXS nutter, all with Editor Mof just over the jump.
Read More >>>
Festivals are unrelentingly miserable. They are. You may think they’re not but they really are hellish places filled with hellish people. If you disagree, you’re probably one of those revellers who make sane humans cry with frustration.
And this weekend sees the Reading/Leeds festival kicking off. There’s no question that organisers and attendees will be saying things like “it’s going to be the best yet!” despite the fact it is going to be the same as every piggin’ festival on the planet.
Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan. Read More >>>
There are some moves people will make to maintain credibility, and there are some moves which end up being quite misinformed.
Can you guess which side Katie Price (or “Jordan” if you prefer her hooker name) being interviewed by Piers Morgan (or “Twat” if you prefer his real name) would fall into?
But what if we throw in the fact that poor Katie broke down in tears during the interview, making out as if she were the victim to Peter Andre’s evil ways?
Then it would be secret option three: you’re only hurting yourself and my god we wish Piers Morgan would just die.
Read More >>>
PR stunts are wonderful things. Well, that’s a lie – they tend to be pretty rubbish in the most part, and aside from the odd grandiose piece of artistic wondery they tend to highlight how awful the world of marketing and PR is.
Just ask Ashanti, whose marketing team decided it would be a good idea to encourage ultraviolence, if not murder, with fans of the R&B ‘star’.
It’s a bold move, that’s for sure, but we can’t help but think it’s one that should have had a little more thought put into it before being unleashed on the world.
Read More >>>
