The good and not so good.

Folded:

• The Road (not out in the UK until next year, but here is an early review because we can)
• Also coming next year: a game with hats (about time)
• Busting X Factor (vote for Jedward. They’ll win and the whole show will implode)
• Speeding (you might be able to. You are a doctor, right?)
• Emmanuelle Chriqui (hotter than Megan Fox, mainly because, unlike Fox, she doesn’t wear more make-up than your mother)

Creased:

• The singing guy who rips our ears out before, during and after every episode of Scrubs on E4 (we’re not the only ones)
• Jordan’s face (was never normal, but now she looks like Peter Weller, minus helmet, in Robocop)
• Remember Indy surviving a nuclear blast by hiding in a fridge? Want to recreate that mess in your bedroom for $175? (Here you go)
• The airport level in Modern Warfare 2 (Brooker has written about it and, as usual, he’s spot on)
• Rain (damn it, give us a rest will you?!)

9 – Jordan & Peter Andre: They’re still at it, you know – AmyGrindhouse

8 - Goodness. Our pals Interestment were on the telly this week. Look – BBC

7 - The Lovely Bones: good if you like to see Mark Wahlberg wearing clothes from the 1970s – ClothesOnFilm

6 – The Pixar lamp: what a bastard – BestWeekEver

5 – South America + Africa = GIANT DINOSAUR HEAD! - Geekologie

4 - When TV news captions go wrong – Buzzfeed

3 - This photo is entitled ‘Daddy Didn’t Hug Me’ – I Am Bored

2 - All the hot Strictly Come Dancing news, from the midget and the prostitutey one – Popsugar

1 – Next from Spike Jonze: Everybody Poops…

It’s perfectly clear that Peter Andre likes humans with genitals that are the opposite of his.

Take his famous pop song Mysterious Girl. We’ve been able to deceiver that this song is about women. In the song he wants to “get close” to this Mysterious Girl, but why? Did she smell nice? Or had she just baked a pie?

Either way, Peter Andre knows the difference between men and women, and that’s something he’s keen to pass onto his children. So he’s got something else to squeeze into a few episodes of his rubbish ITV2 show. You see, Peter isn’t overly keen that Katie Price’s new boyfriend Alex Reid likes to dress up in pretty frocks and makeup.

Apart from having his profile boosted by going out with a woman who has balloons for boobs, Alex Reid is a cagefighter by trade. This basically means that he gets to don skimpy pants, oil himself up and then get into a ring with someone else who looks exactly the same. It’s kind of like low budget homoeroticism shown before the watershed, except with crowds of morons going loopy in the aisle and throwing warm beer at each other.

There’s nothing funny about it. But Alex Reid is also a cross-dresser. And there’s probably nothing funny about that, either, but it hasn’t stopped Peter Andre from firing a warning shot across his bows anyway. Because his PR probably told him to say so, Katie Price’s ex-husband told The Sun:

“Whatever people are doing in their private lives, and that goes for them or anyone, can you please not do it in front of the kids. I’m not going to criticise, I’m not going to say, ‘How dare you do this or that’, just don’t do it in front of the kids. Give me that little bit of respect.”

You ruddy well go Peter. We’re totally behind you on this one. What kind of parent would want to go and ruin their precious offspring’s childhood? Just look at us – not having a camera crew filming us eating toast in the morning and running out of toilet roll when the vital moment arrived completely broke our fragile minds. Now we scurry around at night looking for scraps of food. Honestly if we could turn back time we’d wish that our every movement could be documented on tape.

Of course, Peter just wants to be a good father. Awful future conversations such as “Why has mummy let herself go?” and “Look daddy, she has a hairy face like you!” can easily be avoided if transvestite types don’t grace the Andre household for a slab of cake and a game of backgammon.

However it will inevitable that Peter Andre or Jordan or Katie Price will have to mop up their children’s tears when they start school. In our time at school, we don’t recall many pupils being called Junior and Princess Tiaamii. Expect a lot of name calling and general rudeness from children with normal names. Unless the pair are sent to special celebrity children’s school where they can brush up on geography with girls called Rustic Neon and boys called Abarabbie Cola.

Still, Junior will have it worse. His classmates will have all typed “Junior’s mum topless” into Google several times by now, and they’re only four.

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Such is the world we live in today that when you quiz a group of children about Jordan, they won’t know any facts about the country.

Instead, they’ll spout endless facts about Jordan the model with pinpoint accuracy; which might have something to do with the fact that she won’t stop banging on about herself.

In the 31 years that Jordan/Katie Price has been on the planet, she’s done many things. Slept with footballers, posed topless in magazines, had a baby, took the virginity of a rubbish popstar, gone on the jungle show, married another yet another rubbish popstar, had some more kids, divorced the popstar and met a cage fighter. Jesus, you don’t need multiple autobiographies to explain that do you? Apparently so if you’re Jordan – she’s onto her fourth.

With Christmas looming, many famous people gear up the festive season by whoring out personal stories about themselves. Things are getting so ridiculous that Colonel Sanders will probably bring out his own cookbook, Michael Jackson will document his time in hell and some loser from Big Brother will write about their time in the house. And then there’s Jordan, whose life is so action-packed that she needs to write a brand-new autobiography every fortnight or so.

Because we are semi-intelligent people, we haven’t read any of the books released by Jordan. However, we’ve been informed that her forthcoming autobiography will talk about the heartache caused by splitting up with Peter Andre. Presumably, the third instalment of her book ended by saying something like this. “And me and Peter got married in a big castle and went to live happily ever after forever and ever. The end.”

Even though you can sum up what happened between the couple by cutting out multiple newspaper and magazine articles, that doesn’t matter to Jordan. She wants to let people inside her life so they can see how emotionally damaged she is. Sadly big bosses at book shops don’t want us to spend our money on fragile and damaged women. A source at Jordan’s publishing company told The Sun:

“Bookshop managers are really worried. They fear this latest book could do more harm than good for business and are seriously considering shunning it altogether. Booksellers do not want to annoy their customers by putting out yet another autobiography from the same person who has already had three printed.”

Bloody heck, that’s a bit of a pain isn’t it? Just like King Kong destroying New York, some individuals fear she could ruin entire businesses with books full of pictures and words of spite directed towards Peter Andre. Speaking of Peter Andre, it would be rubbish for him to release a book documenting their split wouldn’t it? Guess what! The Sun reports:

“Andre is preparing to launch his autobiography in time for the lucrative festive season.”

Bugger, that probably means Jordan will have to do with a Kinder Egg and a bottle of Ribena for Christmas dinner. Never mind, we all know that the book would be so devoid of detail that despite it being over three hundred pages long, it would only have two words per page on it.

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Whenever we’re feeling down, there is only one place to turn.

Tabloid problem pages. After a quick read, that frown is turned into a burst of giggles. “I like to dress as Dennis the Menace during sex – is this normal?” writes a loser from Swansea. No you tit, it’s not.

Recently, the celebrity equivalent to this is Kerry Katona. She’s only gone and done some drugs, lost her Iceland deal and allegedly beat up her accountant. Then we have wonder woman Jordan who’s gone through an ever so public divorce and shacked up with a new fellow. He just happens to make bongo flicks with girls from Babestation. Therefore, Jordan is perfectly equipped to guide Kerry through these troubled times.

Every time there’s something to do with Peter Andre, a new type of alcohol or the grand opening of an ice-cream van, Jordan is certain to be there. When glitzy public occasions shine upon her, you know another thing will happen. Most females will don skyscraper-length heels to totter above rivals and wear dresses that even prostitutes would baulk at. With Jordan, it’s different.

Not that we’ve ever noticed due to our gentlemanly good ways, but friends of ours have commented that Jordan had incredibly huge knockers. So big in fact that you could lose the TV remote down there. Whenever she needs attention, her boobs seem to get bigger. Just like a gentlemen’s pork soldier when he sees an attractive damsel in the local market. Of course, when Jordan snakes back into hiding, her lady lumps appear to shrivel back to normal sized proportions.

Just like Kerry Katona, Jordan went on the celebrity jungle programme. Sadly, the show didn’t ask the contestants to make early nineties drum and bass or incorporate any raga samples. Instead, they had to eat insects, drink piss and generally be laughed at by Ant and Dec whilst they hopped around and ate stottie bread.

Kerry won the show and reignited her fame. However, Jordan got the booby prize and won prized tit and general annoyance Peter Andre. From there, they got married, had some children, who they gave stupid names, and then divorced. There you go, their lives summed up in a sentence. Amazingly though, Jordan will be able to get her ghost writer to stretch that into 364 hardback book retailing at £11.95 in time for Christmas.

So what does Jordan the relationship expert say to Kerry? Supposedly penning this in her OK! magazine diary she says:

“You have four beautiful kids and they need you now, Kerry. The only way you will get better is by admitting you have a problem and seeking help from professionals. I genuinely wish you all the best.”

In other words she means:

1) Stop being a druggie and pay more attention to your kids before you fall down the stairs and crush one to death or the social services take them away.
2) Go see the professionals and maybe MTV will make a documentary on you called, Kerry Katona; Inside The Nut House.
3) If you’re alive at Christmas, I’ll get my people to send you a card.

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The overall impression I got from reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was that he was taking drugs and reporting back so that you didn’t have to.

Well this week’s been the same for me, but instead of the mind-expanding world that concerned Thompson, I am committed to the mind-reducing ignorance of the tabloids. Maybe, when I’m standing next to Littlejohn on the white cliffs of Dover shouting expletives in the direction of Europe you’ll remember the sacrifice I made so that you could be enlightened and tolerant.

This week: Jordan and Peter Andre and their continuing slow-motion car-crash of a divorce…

Looking at the various entertainment-related stories, I could have chosen Michael Jackson (who had to die for everyone to find out what he was up to), or possibly Jack Tweed (who is never going to able to do anything naughty without being spotted by everyone on the moral high-ground). The Jordan/Andre divorce proved the most fertile ground, though.

The poor old press are in a state since they can’t work out for the life of them whether they’re going to aim their stories at their male readers or their female readers who want to masturbate over her, or judge her respectively. Oh what a quandary to find yourself if you lack morality – what ethics do you pretend to adopt?

The Star’s female readership is low enough that this wasn’t a dilemma they had to tackle – ‘I’m not leaving bed for 48 hrs’. Tuesday’s headline told of ‘Hungry Kate’s sex marathon’ in a full page article. I’m not sure who exactly falls for this crap since Jordan’s like the girl you knew that was always flirtatious but never actually slept with you – she’s the most unconvincing sex maniac ever. If she was that into sex why would she have married Andre in the first place, a man who clearly shares Action Man’s physique both over and under the belt?

The Star saves the anti-Jordan coverage for a tiny paragraph in the corner which directs the reader to New! Magazine and in which Pete adds fuel to the complex, psychological, and completely made-up, difference between ‘Katie Price’ (the media-savvy business-woman and mother) and ‘Jordan’ (er… her tits). Oh poor Pete. There he was minding his own business when he met shy and retiring Katie in the playground after they’d both finished double-maths. If only they could have led quiet, private lives. Oh, wait a minute – that’s bullshit isn’t it?

Meanwhile The Sun is a bit confused. It has a female readership, so it can run the headline ‘Fury at Topless Jordan Photos’ above those very same ire-inducing nipple shots of Jordan on one side of the article with a shot of Pete doing his best sensitive dad pose on the other size.

Expect the newspapers to choose Pete’s side as there’s nothing the public love more than working themselves into a rabid frenzy about a relationship which they actually know nothing whatsoever. Then once that’s stopped selling, expect Jordan’s comeback.

[story by Si Sharp]

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Which is why we’re now going to talk about the latest TV appearance by Peter Andre, where he gets all boo-hooey and says he’s all about his kids and stuff, and then completely fails to see the connection between apologising for his life in the spotlight then announcing he has a new reality show currently filming.

What a tool.

See? We’re not just mean to Katie Price.

Though she is a giganto-titted monstrosity of Lovecraftian proportions.

Following Jordan’s appearance alongside the slithering mass of matter playing itself off as human (known by many as Piers Morgan), we all secretly hoped this would be the end of things.

In fact, it wasn’t a secret hope at all. We just wanted this parade of monumental stupidity to end before we decided to end ourselves.

Unfortunately, the Australian with an IQ almost equal to that of a glass of water decided he should have his say and – true to the character he’s been portraying to the media – Peter Andre was a big ball of crying, caring, “honest” mess on This Morning.

“Honest” of course, because we have minds of our own and can see straight through any bag of carefully-managed PR “emotion” these celebrity types try to throw our way.

While we’re all for the whole “not talking about Katie Price in a bad way” angle and the whole “she shouldn’t really have gone on about the miscarriage on telly, as that’s a bit private” spiel, we can’t help but think he should have just shut up and cried a bit more at that point.

But bless the Aussie fool, for he doesn’t exactly help himself.

After the line of:

“It’s our fault… I know I’m going to make mistakes. Sharing your life so publicly can be a mistake.”

You would think Peter Andre would then learn to keep schtum and not flap his natterhole about anything else which could possibly harm his case. Well…

In fact, there’s no point in trying to put it any better than it’s already been done – read this sentence by the kids at Digital Spy, take it in and really think about what it says:

Andre added that he is now focusing on his children, his new album and his recently announced reality show, which began filming three weeks ago.

We’ll be honest, it’s not that hard to see what we’re getting at here, but we do know some of our readers struggle with basic literacy.

Peter – you come across like a mentally-deficient puppy, so it’s hard for even hecklerspray to hate you, which is why this comes from our barely-beating, shrivelled and calloused heart: stop the madness, retire from the public eye, get a job in a pub and bring up the kids to avoid this shit.

Though that would mean we’d have less to write about…

To the despair of Google Image users everywhere, there are several Jordans in the world: The basketball player, the Asian country and the brand of Nike Airs to name just three.

However, potential masturbators will be most familiar with the variable-titted cock-holster better known as Katie Price.

As promised on Twitter, Katie has been keeping a dignified silence about her divorce with Aussie warbler Peter Andre, breaking it only briefly to swear about him. Which is about as dignified as you can get without talking to Piers Morgan on TV and revealing all – thankfully not literally: one slimy twat is more than enough.

Katie and Peter met on jungle-based bug-pestering ITV reality show I’m A Celebrity and spent the following years documenting every single argument, holiday and blowjob in front of an adoring crowd of three ITV2 viewers. With the series Katie and Peter: Stateside coming to an end, so too must their marriage. Here, Katie tells the ‘truth’ about the end of an era. A weird, spotlight-hogging era that shifted more newspapers than a really big lorry with loads of newspapers in.

Jordan’s face, expressionless under the weight of having to carry so much make-up, doesn’t move as she tells us “this is not a publicity stunt”, in a programme with her name in the title. On the second biggest channel in the country. On Saturday night at prime time. “The fairytale is over.”

The divorce is all about Peter getting angry over a picture of Katie in The Sun, where she’s wasted and waving her tits around. Like this is the first time she’s ever done it. Pete, mate, it’s what she does. That’s her whole career, you Aussie doofus. Turns out that one of the guys there fancies her, and Peeeete has a problem with him. Again, Petey, she used to be a glamour model. Look around you. Every single person in their 20s has cracked one out over her.

Things descend into a Jeremy Kyle-esque “I told him this but he doesn’t believe me and now I’m talking to my friend and Pete thinks I fancy him and I don’t but he’s good looking and I’m his friend and and and sdlhpf[jkfkghalrod”.

In a typically chavtastic way, Jordan admits to fancying Pete just before they split, but now can’t understand what she saw in him. Despite spending 10 minutes talking about the good times, the good pecs and the good sex. This really is Celebrity Jeremy Kyle. With Morgan playing a more evil, sneering Kyle.

Hilariously though, after a gratuitous compilation of Kate rolling around on the beach, in clubs and on a boat in a variety of ever-shrinking titpants, Piers Kyle says he has one word for her. Lucky, because any more than that will confuse her. That word? Slapper.

Pete comes across as a nice bloke, but one who wants to be married to Katie, and not Jordan. Katie describes Jordan as her wild side, when she’s had a couple of drinks and wants to be a slag again, that’s Jordan. When she’s sucking off a Premiership footballer, that’s Jordan. Taking her kids to a horse riding show? Katie. She says that Jordan is behind her now, then flashes her boobs at Piers. She’s confused and all over the place, doesn’t know whether she wants to be Katie or Jordan.

I’d quite like Jordan back, please. As, probably, would Pete.

This was a guest blog by Nik Johnson from Shouting At Cows. Go familiarise yourselves.

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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.

In an interview set to air on the channel that knows not how to make good telly – ITV1 – Katie Price talks to Piers Morgan and… good god he’s a disgusting weasel of a man.

We mean, she’s bad enough and it isn’t like Peter Andre is much better – the man is a simpleton – but Piers Morgan? Honestly. Whelks have more appealing personalities than that gutterscum. He’s so much of a prat Jeremy Clarkson punched him in the face – when one of the biggest anuses on TV hits you, you know you’re doing something wrong.

Where were we?

Ah yes – so Peter and Katie split up, then there was some ruckus about who gets the kids, when they get them and blah blah blah then some other meticulously-managed PR-shit came about and lo, the two were still featured all over every magazine in the world.

It’s hard to care.

A source said some words which someone took down and eventually got said words to Digital Spy:

“Katie is fed up with the public backlash against her. Unfortunately though, her version of events is rather different to Pete’s.”

Let’s do some scientific-type study here then. Her version of events is probably different because she’s out on the lash all the time, getting her well-worn vagina out for all asunder and making new potholes in the street every time she drunkenly trips up.

Or at least that’s what we’d guess.

Katie Price may be a ridiculous-looking hag of a woman, Peter Andre may be… well – what is he, really? And as for the kids, well, they’re probably going to be messed up when they’re older, let’s be honest.

But Piers Morgan? Why, oh why…

It’s time to leave the country.

Dynamite your house, pack your toothbrush and don’t forget to shoot your girlfriend on the way out. You’ll thank us for it later.

Hecklerspray warned glamour model Jordan about the dangers of thinking, but she didn’t quite get it. Peter Andre didn’t get it either (for over four months) and went into Mediterranean exile after spotting his wife with a slew of horsey men.

A hint to our female readers – This is what happens when you don’t put out. Your boyfriend does a jackrabbit, reverts to masturbation and suddenly ignores your texts because he figures you’re a psycho. And you might well be, for the most part, if your name is Katie Price.

Desperate to save her marriage, Jordan pleaded with her husband from their honeymoon resort in the Maldives via text, promising the pop singer that she’d be wild in bed if he took her back. Peter Andre has done the sensible thing and blanked her altogether, choosing to spend time with his family at the couple’s £1m home in Cyprus.

Another case of a screwy woman who crosses the line, slips and falls on her knockers. It all started when Jordan removed sexytime from the couple’s marital life after she developed an obsession with horse dressage and training for the London marathon. Signs were clear last weekend as Jordan was snapped on the razzle in Bristol and referred to Pete as ‘my punch bag’ in an interview on Saturday.

“She realises her refusal to sleep with Pete was a terrible miscalculation and has told him she will change, in order to win him back,” said a friend of the model.

We feel sorry for Pete, even if the whole thing is a cash-grabbing hoax. When a man wakes up with a sociopath every morning, he tends to forget about her udders and think on the quality of his life. The couple’s management announced their split on Monday and estranged Peter has allegedly been seeking advice from divorce lawyers for some time.

A friend of the popstar commented on Jordan’s disrespectful behaviour in The Sun:

“Katie revelled in making Pete feel insecure. She would often deliberately not tell her who she was on the phone with. She would stop telephone conversations as soon as Pete walked in the room and she would even leave the room on occasions, telling Pete she had to send some private messages. It infuriated him.”

Things don’t look too good for Jordan which is probably why she fled the country on Monday night with her children. Tears are flowing, fears are growing – and another village in England is deprived of its idiot.

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It was a great day for romantics when Peter Andre managed to croon his way into Jordan’s sleeping bag out there in the Australian jungle.

She was playing impossible-to-get, he was making up songs called Lady, Please, Just Let Me Touch Them, and singing them directly to her without once breaking eye contact. Their eventual marriage came as no surprise. And neither, unfortunately, has their split.

Jordan has ruined many a great man along the way. So, Andre, once you’ve stopped crying, you will hopefully appreciate the great shoulders you are now rubbing alongside…

1. Ace from Gladiators

Ace was by far the greatest of The Gladiators – once you count out Wolfie, Huntsman, and Toots. He swept Jordan off her feet back when she was just an aspiring glamour model begging the world to have a look at her boobs. Ace was equally impressive and physical, and best of all, he could make his pecs bounce in time to music. A great man. Or, at least, he was. Now he’s building lofts using the name Warren Furman. Thanks, Jordan.

2. Dane Bowers

When Dane finally managed to slide his revolting tongue into Jordan’s mouth, he had the world at his feet. Another Level were probably the best soul group since The Temptations, and Dane looked all set to become either the new Michael Jackson, or the old Justin Timberlake. Unfortunately, the curse of Jordan cut him so deeply that he was last seen dancing for compliments next to a bin.

3. Gareth Gates

Granted, somehow Jordan managed to cure Gareth Gates’ lifelong stuttering issues. But that was it for the good stuff. She famously coaxed him into unleashing his busy hands on her when she was about eight months pregnant, and ever since then, Gareth’s hugely promising career has nosedived. He clumsily threw himself around an ice rink to make people love him again, all the while stuttering “Bloody Jordan” under his breath. It didn’t work.

4. Dwight Yorke

To put things into perspective, when they first started smearing oil into one another’s legs, Dwight Yorke was playing marvelous football for Manchester United. That’s right, Manchester United – the team that Cristiano Ronaldo plays for. Now he’s playing for Sunderland, who are universally considered to be rubbish. Nice one Jordan.

You want more like this? Visit Josh at Interestment right now, then.

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Hecklerspray was saddened to hear of the Jordan/ Peter Andre relationship breaking up this week, even if it has allowed the opportunity to make jokes about a lovely pair and love splits, which was taken with relish.

While feeling sorry that Peter Andre no longer has those pendulous breasts to put his head between and wave his head about while making speedboat noises, it occurred that we’ve never had that chance. And that makes us a little bit sad, although it does give us an excuse to pay Google Images a visit.

After putting the tissues away (because we were crying over Junior growing up in a broken home), we set off to the supermarket to make our own credit crunch busting Jordan.

We used Sainsbury’s, but a less middle class supermarket will do. The thought of an Aldi Jordan isn’t great, though. It’d probably turn out a bit more Jodie Marsh. One point, it’s best to buy the sweets and condoms on two separate visits, or in two separate shops. Especially if that’s all you’re buying.

The ingredients. I’d recommend balloons instead of condoms, as you can sellotape them together a bit better. That I only have condoms (lots and lots of condoms) doesn’t say as much about me as you’d think.

Take a stick – lucky for you, they do grow on trees. I used a big stick and cut it down to size, but you can just use a small stick if you prefer.

Next, take an orange and gummy worms, and push them into the holes. This will make gummy hair, and also make your hands smell like orange. In a moment, you will think of these as the glory days of hand smelling.

Unwrap two condoms, and inflate. This will make your breath taste delightfully spermicidy, and make you spit a lot. Add two bits of chorizo or other round meat to the end, and spend an hour and a half sellotaping the bloody things together in a way that doesn’t make them fall down or flop. Because that would be unrealistic. Stick two chocolate cake decorations in as eyes, and remain unsure what to do for a mouth.

And there you have it, your very own Andre-bothering Jordan. The eggs are feet, and not bollocks, but it’s too late to correct that now. If it helps, you can imagine they are her kids.

In a misguided attempt to give her yoghurt themed make-up, I accidentally made it look like I’d, er, enjoyed it a bit too much. Sorry.

This essentially indecent piece of art and craft was brought to you by the godlike Nik Johnson from Shouting At Cows. Blame him.

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Breasts-on-legs celebrity Jordan has split from her husband, tiny Australian Peter Andre. Form an orderly queue, gentlemen.

Probably a queue where you’re all naked and desperately trying to stop yourself doing a milky manwee before it’s your turn.

Fame. It’s a funny thing. Some people achieve it by being blessed with good looks and acting skills. Some get there by using their beautiful voice and hedge-like eyebrows to charm the hearts of millions. And some stuff a load of jelly-filled bags into their boobies, then wander round thrusting the hilarious results down camera lenses.

Ladies and gentlemen of hecklerspray. We have some grave news to impart. You should perhaps sit down, because this will rock you to the core. We know how much you’ve invested in the marriage of Jordan and Peter Andre – God knows, we have ourselves spent hours worrying about their long-term stability. But today we must deliver the sad news that the two have split up. Please, lean backwards immediately to avoid getting tears on your keyboard.

The whole cynical publicity exercise crazy love-adventure began in 2004, when Jordan and Andre appeared on I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here. Hypnotised by Jordan’s ludicrous silicon valley, Andre spent his time ogling her gargantuan titties and unsuccessfully trying to hide his stiff little fella from the hundred and fifty cameras recording every moment. While Jordan decided that she might come across as less like an employee of Doncaster’s third-best lapdancing club if she started using her real name, Katie Price.

The pair decided that they could make potloads of money would be eternally happy if they were to wed. And so it came to pass. In a ludicrous display, apparently modelled on an 11-year old girl’s English essay called “Princess Florentina’s Weding With The Prince Handsome In A Betiful Pallace‘.

Peter Andre has spent the last five years suckling fame-milk from her massive celebrity breasts.

Now, with terrible yet unstoppable predictability, the pair have announced that they are splitting up. Get your Kleenex ready, as MTV reports:

“Peter Andre and Katie Price are separating, after four-and-a-half years of marriage. They have both requested that the media respect their families’ privacy at this difficult time.”

Which, we believe, is tabloid-speak for “Please be aware she will soon be shambling out of a club with her boobs out and knickers in her handbag. Get your upskirt cameras ready“.

So, we wish you the best in making it through the rest of the week with this tragedy foremost in your mind. Please, talk to someone you trust if it all gets too much, and remember: no one’s died.

Like, by being dragged into the huge vortex of Jordan’s fanny and suffoacating. Could happen.

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Glamour model Katie Price (aka Jordan) announced on Tuesday that she doesn’t ‘think’ her husband has been cheating on her.

Well guess what Katie… nobody ever paid you to think. Here’s further evidence that women create elaborate conspiracy out of absolutely nothing. It’s a bit like cooking.

“On Christmas Eve, we had 12 people over but Pete wanted to go to the gym,” said the model to her former employer, The Sun. “He was obsessed with it and I did wonder why he was going so much.”

Insania singer Peter just wanted to work on his pecs it seemed, but wife Jordan would have none of it. “I was starting to get fit and wanted to put a bit more effort into our love life and mix it up a bit,” said Mr Andre. “But because I was doing it differently she thought that meant I was having an affair.” Signs of tension were clear in episodes of ITV’s reality show Katie & Peter: The Next Chapter Stateside when Jordan unleashed the fury over deleted text messages and a late night visit to the cinema. Jordan, who banned Peter from having sexy girls in his videos, kept a jealous eye on the singer throughout their US adventure.

“I definitely thought something was up,” she added. “I don’t think he’s cheating on me anymore. I had bad PMT that day.”

Things appear to be more stable for the turbulent TV couple, who plan to run the London Marathon on April 26th for charities NSPCC and Vision. They revealed plans to have another baby and Jordan says she’ll start after right after the 26.2 mile run. “We’re going to begin trying the next day… I can guarantee I’ll be pregnant this year.” After adding to their throng of three, the couple have also vowed to adopt but deny that they’ll be following Madonna/Angelina/Bruno’s celebrity baby craze.

“We have spoken about adopting a disabled child,” said Peter “There must be so many out there that need a home.” A remarkable insight, Mr Andre. You come up with all sorts of clever ideas. “I am going to write the word ‘Jade’ somewhere on me,” he added. “There’s no charity for her but it’s just a personal thing I want to do. I said I was going to do it a long time ago and I’m not going back on my word.”

[story by Alex de Moller]

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9 - 50 very evil women – Ugo

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7 – Celebrities who grew up, got old and started to look mental. Yes, Pacino’s there – Popcrunch

6 - Arabic packaging! – Graphicology

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1 - Question: Is Jordan the most awful woman in the country? Answer: Yes – Popsugar