Every week it’s the same, nothing ever really changes. We come into the hecklerspray bedsit on a Monday morning, having been released to poison the outside world over the weekend, and find the same stinking pizza boxes, the same drained bottles of methylated spirits and the same greasy, ignominious faces staring at us across the room.
Our ‘colleagues’ as we laughingly refer to them are actually lawyers who, down on their luck after losing a Tax Evasion case, have rented out the far corner of the bedsit which is sometimes known as “The Fred West Wing”. They look ill. Lawyers always look ill.
Perhaps it’s the smell which is putting them off their writs. The festering stench of the opposite corner, marked out by a laminated card which- in odious Comic Sans- reads “POST”. It’s enough to make anyone sick to their stomach.
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Worrying reports are beginning to reach the hecklerspray news desk of spontaneous combustion among children.
Reports so far are sketchy but it is thought that the exact demographic affected is girls & boys between the ages of 11 & 17. Parents are being advised to keep their children away from the internet for the foreseeable future to limit the risk of catastrophic explosion.
Experts have warning that if the spread of these fiery paroxysms isn’t stemmed immediately, it could lead to a cataclysmic chain reaction that could- if predictions are accurate- wipe out all human life on the planet, leaving Earth in the paws of Dormice.
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It’s Friday and the hecklerspray bedsit has breathed a collective sigh of relief as they’re allowed out into the world to live among functioning humans for a couple of days. Unfortunately, I’m still here as there are Readers’ Letters to be analysed. Still, it’s nice to have a bit of peace and quiet to work. No Mof Gimmers shouting about codpieces, no Sophie Hall shouting at Kris Wood for making a reclining chair out of sausage and no Euan L Davidson, breathing heavily in my ear.
Yes folks, Fridays are the nicest time to be in the bedsit. It’s easier to sit in “the clean chair” and the stale stench of discarded cigarettes and methylated spirits is beginning to lift. Unfortunately, that means that the foetid stench of the hecklerspray post bag is coming through loud and clear.
It stings the nostrils.
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When Michael Jackson was alive (he’s very much dead these days), he ended up getting married to Lisa Marie Presley. It was weird. The King Of Pop shacking up with The King Of Rock ‘n’ Roll’s daughter. Mixing pop royalty like that… it’s incestuous and odd.
And guess what is going to happen?
That’s right, with a little bit of history repeating itself, Michael’s daughter – Paris Jackson – is giving the sex-eye to pop midget, Justin Bieber. You can just imagine the people behind both of these veritable toddlers advising them about how good a relationship with each other would be for their careers. Blecch!
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There’s always been something incredibly sinister about Justin Bieber. Anyone who is paraded around like a prepubescent monkey eunuch should fill any right-minded person with the dread of a thousand bailiffs.
The very fact no-one seems to mind a performing menstrual period is of great concern, especially given that Bieber is clearly using his power for unspeakable evil.
Like what? Well, at the wave of his nailless foetal hand, it appears that the world’s young are donating their organs. Oooh, the horror!
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Justin Bieber talks directly to God. Justin Bieber also thinks that “rape happens for a reason” as well. That invariably means we shouldn’t trust a vowel that dribbles out of that tiny week-old mouth of his.
He’s Canadian too. They’re all like Americans without the whole ‘inventing rock ‘n’ roll’ thing.
Anyway, Justin Bieber likes talking to the ether and pretending that God talks back to him. Presumably God advised that Bieber got a tattoo on his leg of Jesus. Sadly, God didn’t tell him to go to a decent tattoo parlour and JB is left with an image of what appears to be the lead singer of Nickelback on his calf.
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If there’s one thing worse than a bad thing happening to a celebrity, it’s a bad thing happening to a non-celebrity that is in some way related to a celebrity. Take for example, the dreadful news that Justin Bieber’s grandparents are nearly dead.
You’ll be forgiven for thinking ‘all grandparents are nearly dead’, but you must remember that Bieber is a matter of hours old. So young is JB that his grandparents could justifiably be 23 years old or something.
No. They’re nearly dead because they’ve been in a car crash. This can only mean one thing…
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Spare a thought for Justin Bieber this Christmas won’t you? It’s not because he’s can’t reach high shelves and get to his presents early. Instead, he’s still got mentalist stalker Mariah Yeater claiming that he leaked some sperm inside of her and created a baby.
Instead of this matter being kept private due to its libel claim, it’s great to know that Mariah Yeater has become something of a minor celebrity out of the whole ordeal. With various magazine and TV interviews, the money Yeater received will probably be used to pay damages towards Bieber when the negative result comes back on the DNA test.
Even though there are more holes in Mariah Yeater’s story than a blind cowboy, she’s back again to protest how she’s the innocent victim in all of this. Tristyn , the stupidly named child in question will be able to tell all its classmates in the future that he has a mentalist for a mother. We should say ‘allegedly’ now. Allegedly at absolutely everything.
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Readers’ Letters: “This Ignorant Little Twit’s Opinion Doesn’t Matter” Or “A Cacophony Of Verbose Morons”
by Michael Park on February 10, 2012 1 Comment
Our ‘colleagues’ as we laughingly refer to them are actually lawyers who, down on their luck after losing a Tax Evasion case, have rented out the far corner of the bedsit which is sometimes known as “The Fred West Wing”. They look ill. Lawyers always look ill.
Perhaps it’s the smell which is putting them off their writs. The festering stench of the opposite corner, marked out by a laminated card which- in odious Comic Sans- reads “POST”. It’s enough to make anyone sick to their stomach.
Read More >>>