Hey! America! You know that song you have that goes “Oh say can you see? By the dawn’s early light! Da-da-dum, dee-dee-dee, the actor called Rocket Redglare’s arse glows!” or whatever it is? Well, once again, it will be sung at a major sporting event where you don’t compete against anyone else in the world!

And who might be fluffing the lyrics to it at Super Bowl XLVI?!

Why, it’s the regrettably nice Kelly Clarkson who is very, very difficult to hate – unless you listen to her music.

Yessir!

Kelly Clarkson will sing ‘The Star-Spangled Bruce Banner’ at the Super Bowl on February 5th at the Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, Indiana.

Of course, this hasn’t been formally announced, but the organisers of the entertainment for the NFL are absolutely hopeless when it comes to keeping secrets.

Seriously. The NFL is one big gossiping old trout, nattering over the garden fence to next door. And next door is a massive loudmouth.

Clarkson will join a whole host of performerers at this year’s Super Bowl including Madonna, who will perform during halftime with guests M.I.A. and Nicki Minaj, and Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton, who will sing “America the Beautiful” as a duet.

Surely the latter should be called ‘America IS Beautiful’. Cuh! Y’all be dropping the letter ‘U’ from a bunch of words next you brutes!

Go Lions!

Welcome to 2012 you losers!! Think this year is going to somehow be better for you because you made some pitiful resolutions about being less onanistic and getting a real job?  Pfft. Unlikely.

We’ve been staring into the new crystal ball we got for Christmas, conversing with the stars and even dancing with tears in our eyes, just to bring you a completely accurate and poorly written insight into your miserable lives.

Ready? Hit the jump!

Aries (Mar 21-Apr 20)

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside. However, gonorrhoea is no laughing matter and on Saturday your penis falls off in the bath.

Taurus (Apr 21-May 21)

Happy New Year! This is going to be an amazing year…for someone else. You remain alone and untouched by anyone other than yourself.

Gemini (May 22-Jun 22)

On Wednesday that bloke you adore will suddenly discover he’s in love with you. Shame you’ve been letting his dad motorboat you round the back of Tesco since August.

Cancer (Jun 23-Jul 23)

This year you’ll finally get that cosmetic surgery you’ve been dreaming of.  Your ratemylabia.com photos are a winner.

Leo (Jul 24-Aug 23)

You could win the lottery this week!!! You could but you spend your last quid on a packet of Rizla and continue being a nobody.

Virgo (Aug 24-Sep 23)

It’s a little known fact that those born under the sign of Virgo are breathtakingly beautiful. You are the exception.

Libra (Sep 24-Oct 23)

That woman who called you an astounding idiot  last year starts working in your office.  Stirring her hot coffee with your privates in an act of twisted revenge proves her right.

Scorpio (Oct 24-Nov 22)

We’ve been studying your charts for days now. You’re disgusting. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Even the planets hate you.

Sagittarius (Nov 23-Dec 21)

The stars twinkle just for you this week. You’re awesome.  Have you been working out? Keep doing that thing wi…..In other news, your entire family has just emigrated with no forwarding address, while we were distracting you.

Capricorn (Dec 22-Jan 20)

As your life is already mapped out for you, we feel it only fair to advise that a small bird will defecate on you from a great height this week without you noticing. The hot woman behind you on the bus will be the one to break the news before making awful dry-heaves and sitting somewhere else.

Aquarius (Jan 21-Feb 19)

You’re getting married this month!! He’s a brilliant guy and you’ll never ever find out about that affair he had while you were visiting your dying grandmother.

Pisces (Feb 20-Mar 20)

Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Unless it was written by Katie Price. Then you can also burn it, instantly becoming a better human being.

Master of snoozemonies (sorry) Robert Pattinson has said that he would lay down his life if it meant saving the ones he loved. The news comes as hundreds of sharpened spears were found at the home of anti-Twilight campaigner Allan Thorneyflat.

The star of Twilight and forgettable footnote in the Harry Potter series claimed during a TV interview that if it came down to it, he would know what to do prompting thousands of Twihards to question whether Pattinson’s life was really worth all that bother. Here at hecklerspray, we know the consequences of wishing death on someone and in Pattinson’s case, we really, really don’t.

Why?

That’s simple. We have it on good authority that if Robert Pattinson died and was interred in a standard casket in a standard grave (dug to a depth of 7 feet), by the time putrifaction set in his essence would have already killed 90% of the indigenous tree populace in the immediate vicinity. It is projected that by the time his body fully decayed, 86% of the world’s trees would have wilted and died out of sheer boredom.

We don’t want that.

Anyway, the hopefully invincible 25-year-old admitted to Danish TV that he was a chivalrous young man when it came to romance. Speaking from inside an impressive, gilted suit of armour, Pattinson said;

“I think if you love anyone, you kind of feel like that. If you’re in love with anyone, I think the majority of people would say, ‘If I have to die for this person, I will.’”

He won’t if it’s unnecessary though. We imagine that he has a chart of possible outcomes that he keeps close at hand every time he leaves the house. We’ve never seen it but we imagine it looks something like this.

• Mugging – Her.
• Bank robbery – Me.
• Twihards charging down the street in force – Police horse.
• Abducted and held for ransom – Pay ransom.
• 160ft Dragon threatening the city and by consequence Kristen – Me.

It’s probably scrawled on the other side of his “to do” list which has had the same item left on it for years.

• Learn to act.

It has to be real love though. Pattinson believes that you can only truly know you love someone when you’re faced with a straight choice between their death and yours. He added in his droning, monotonous timbre;

“I mean, you don’t really love someone if you’re like, ‘No. Just let them die’.”

That could get really, really awkward. Want to know if Robert Pattinson really loves Kristen Stewart? You know what you have to do. Allan Thorneyflat can’t do it. He’s in jail.

When normal people have normal problems, it’s boring. However, when a famous person has normal problems, it becomes endearing. It enables us to coo “OOOH! THEY’RE JUST LIKE US!”

They’re not. They’re nothing like us. They are wealthy, bloated maggots who feed on our emotional connection to their image. They expect us to care more about their outpourings than our own.

And in the case of Kelly Clarkson, she wants us to give two hoots about the fact she’s never been in love. That accounts for why her love ballads sound so disingenuous then, eh?

She says, to USA Today:

“I’ve never been in love. I’ve never experienced certain things, and I think that’s because I have this side of me that is shut off.”

“Because I haven’t found anybody yet to open to that I feel like, ‘OK, you’re worth breaking down that wall for.’ I’ve never found that.”

Well boo hoo. How bloody awful that must be for you.

But wait! She’s not just completely loveless! She’s also uncomfortable with the fame she’s got.

“Celebrity is weird. I have no controversy. You don’t see me in rehab, or you don’t see me coming out with my hey-haw showing. There’s not much to report. So when anything little is reported, it’s like ‘Oh, my God, she wasn’t wearing makeup!’ We have one life and I want to have good character, I want to be around people with good character who have good motives.”

Forget that.

The real news is that we now know that Kelly Clarkson calls her vagina “hey-haw”. Jesus H. Christ.

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Jennifer Lopez and the historically named Marc Anthony are still set to film their globe-trotting talent show together, despite announcing the end of their marriage last week and the inevitable feelings of murderous rage that come as part and parcel of any such split.

Last month it was announced that the former couple hatched a plan in their volcano lair and were to jet off on a massive global tour this summer in order to find the best Latin wannabe stars for their new TV talent show titled, oddly enough, ‘Q’viva! The Chosen’.

The original idea of the programme is thought to have been altered slightly to reflect the change in Lopez and Anthony’s marital situation.

Very little is known about the exact format that the show, which is being produced by Xix Entertainment, was originally supposed to have . However, fictional sources close to the company have informed hecklerspray that the couple were supposed be seeking out the very best young talents in the world of Latin music before whisking the lucky contestants off on a series of nefarious trials in which their very sanity would be pushed to the limit for the amusement of J’Lopatra and her Roman consort.

After Lopez and Anthony sent shockwaves of apathy through Hollywood on Friday by ending their seven year ‘association’, the production company is apparently looking for a new format to play on the split and the headlines that it has inevitably drummed up.

The revised ideas are thought to include ‘singing battles’ in which the divorce case is played out through a series of musical numbers, sung by the contestants, in front of a judge and the charming ‘babysitter’ idea in which the contestants sing platitudes to the former couple in the form of insipid ballads.

We know what you’re thinking; surely it would be more sensible for them to put the show on ice until they can spend time in the same room without armed guards having to intervene. Unfortunately, the road to millions of dollars is littered with the corpses of people who couldn’t be professional and as such their production company has spoken out in order to squash rumours that the project has been thrown into jeopardy.

A representative from Xix told Deadline.com, “They’re both committed to ‘Q’viva!’ and will work on it as planned. The show goes on!” This is despite the fact that they have to be separated at all times by an electric fence.

Here’s hoping the show descends into an on-stage battle where J’Lo and her backing dancers take on Mark Anthony and a legion of well-trained Roman soldiers. Well… we can always dream.

Let’s just face facts right here and now. We’re pathetic. All of us. You reading this, us writing it and especially those that have to edit it. We all feel lonely sometimes and where some of us can just walk into a public house, identify someone they would like to engage in coitus with and then leave with them, many of us lack that ‘cutting edge’ or, as it is sometimes ominously known, killer instinct.

While we’re all sitting in the corner of those pubs looking at those people and wishing that we were them. Those people with the confidence and the sheer bravado to just  say what they want, maintain eye contact and end up getting what they want.

We sit in the corner looking at the other sad, sunken faces around us, unable to even make eye contact with them. Everything has gone wrong with your life and seeing these people, able to show confidence in their lives seems to exacerbate the lack of companionship in yours.

You have options though. You go home and you switch on the computer. You have two options.

Option number one is the traditional response to loneliness. Remove your undergarments and reach climax while crying. It’s commonly known as crymaxing. You’ve probably already done it once today. The other option is to get yourself on a dating website. There are hundreds of sites all claiming to match you in different ways and with different people from match.com to the worryingly baseless UniformDating.com.

Sure, eHarmony looks lovely, doesn’t it? They give you a partner based on deep compatibility and we’re sure that they’re very, very ethical about it. However, what if there was a dating website for people with no ethics, no morals and no grasp of common decency?

What if hecklerspray did dating? What would that look like?

Oh… that.

Elizabeth Hurley and Shane Warne are one of the oddest celebrity couples around. She, a posho Daily Mail wet-dream and he, a balding slightly overweight impossibly toothed ball lobber. That said, Paul Abdul once advised that opposites attract, as she proved with her love affair with a rapping cartoon cat.

Warne, we’re told, is ‘quite the swordsman’, yet, this isn’t some tempestuous affair. Startlingly, it’s actually love. We’ve read about ‘love’. It sounds horrible.

And not only is it this ‘love’ thing, Liz Hurley is actually saying that this romance was love at first sight.

Hurley has decided to finally talk about her weird relationship, which came to fruition after she dumped her husband Arun Nayar several months earlier. Not that she told anyone about it. The selfish shit.

And now she’s divorced, she’s now able to rub Nayar’s nose in it by talking about how wonderful Warne is.

She bleats on:

“We come from very different worlds so I see that’s fascinating, if not odd, to many. But it’s not often you meet people you instantly feel comfortable with, and when you find that – even if there are vast differences in background and experiences – it’s worth following through.”

Wait. She doesn’t mean that kind of ‘following through’ does she? This relationship isn’t a bit ‘Scatman John’ is it?

“When you recognise you have a lot in common with someone it’s nice to explore. The biggest problem is we’re 23 hours apart. It’s a challenge. We’ll see what happens.”

For the sake of future stories, we hope that Warne is having sex with loads of people behind her back because that would be splendid.

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Gutted. Not long into their relationship, Cameron Diaz and Alex Rodriguez’s relationship has ended. Alex who? Well, all you need to know is that he looks like The Rock, only if The Rock was a vagabond in the desert, living off the flesh of cactuses and the powdery bone-marrow of those which had died there.

Basically he’s like The Rock but thinner. And single. Very, very single.

Of course, this is devastating news for us all because, as you know, everyone on Earth is required to take part in the ‘Diaz Minute’, where the world is unified for one moment where we all down tools and reflect on how great she is. We sit on our special Diaz Beanbags and quietly ponder about her happiness and we hope that, in her already painfully luxurious life, she’s greedy enough to be happy in love too. She isn’t. She’s probably crying in her kitchen now, surrounded by empty cans of treacly super-strength beer.

Naturally, this will be very painful to read for everyone… but not as painful as the whole thing is for the couple in question. And so, we’ll go to a ‘source’ to tell us all about it.

“They broke up a few days ago. He ended it”

Imagine! You’re a man who looks like Dwayne Johnson if he’d been raised by coyotes and having the audacity to dump one of the most coveted women the Nineties ever saw! What cheek! What grief inducing nerve! And he’s a stupid baseball player too! Running around with his hitting stick for the Yankees! God! What an unswerving pleb!

WAIT! It isn’t over yet!

“However, they have broken up and gotten back together before, so not sure it’s forever.”

Of course, there’s no comment from both parties reps, because presumably, they’ve got other clients who they’re quickly covering things up for.

We think it would be only fair for Diaz to acknowledge some of her stalkers in this tricky period and allow them into her house and have sex with them all in some tear-filled rebound sex-week.

It is the only thing that’s going to make a tedious story like this worth writing about.

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As every celebrity couple in America part ways in time for Christmas, intrepid British Y-Listers are fearlessly attempting to buck the trend. Leading the resistance, Zain Malik and Geneva Lane have announced via the Twitter that they are in luv.

Some of you might be asking “who are they? Why should I care? What are you doing in my internet?” and to be honest you might have a point.

Nevertheless, in answer to your unspoken question: Zain and Geneva were contestants from this year’s X-Factor; you only need to know if you are a twelve year old girl or are likely to be around one in the near future; and looking for spoons, mainly.

Zain is from losing boy band One Direction – you may remember him as the one whose grandfather had to die before they let him sing. Geneva, meanwhile, is a member of losing girl band Belle Amie, and… has brown hair. Judging by their Twitter accounts both are semi-literate at best, but that’s OK because they are destined for big things in the world of pop.

LOL.

The only good thing to come out of this deeply uninteresting union is the constant tabloid repetition of the phrase “Simon’s Love Ban,” which refers to the strange haired music mogul’s decree that nobody living in the X Factor house is allowed to touch each other on pain of death.

Is there any power that man does not wield? Think what beautiful unions could be achieved if he didn’t insist on such a ridiculous rule! Think of the money that could be made.

What glossy magazine would turn its nose up at an exclusive on the unlikely love between Wagner and Katie Weasel (surely both fame hungry enough to give it a go?) or Cher and Paige (he’d keep her grounded ‘like a little Lenny Henry’), or stalker-eyed Aiden and the dismembered bodies in the cellar?

But no, thanks to Mr Capulet over there, such moments are lost. Instead, busy and important journalists have to spend their time making up preposterous stories like Zain and Cher being an item. That’d be fellow contestant Cher Lloyd, not the auton faced star of Burlesque. Wouldn’t want to stretch it too far (unlike her plastic surgeon).

You have to wonder why they bother, though. Everyone knows it’s better to spend the festive season engaged in heartache.

That’s why all the best festive songs (Last Christmas, Lonely This Christmas, Mr Blobby) are about being alone. Hopefully someone will tell Zain and Geneva before they lose all their artistic integrity by being happy in one another’s company on the 25th.

Internet, we’re counting on you.

This article was written by Ali George and what? We’re supposed to be impressed or something?

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In recent years, it seems that just about anyone can get their own range of perfume. Jade Goody even got one! It seems that you don’t have to be famous for a prolonged period or, indeed, a celebrity associated with fashion… you just get one simply by being.

Even the bloody Sex Pistols have a perfume out, which is quite frankly, preposterous! And now, on the back of fragrances from Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber and Kim Kardashian, Taylor Swift is now going to have a bottle of scented water launched with her name on it.

If you care even slightly, Taylor Swift will be making the perfume with Elizabeth Arden and it will be on the shelves in late 2011.

That’s right nostril owners!

On Monday, Elizabeth Arden announced the new Taylor Swift perfume and also revealed the signature Swift fragrance will be available in late 2011.

The Taylor Swift perfume doesn’t have a name or anything like that yet, but it is said that she’ll be involved in product development, packaging and marketing of the Swift perfume.

So what can we expect?

Well, it’s pretty obvious that it’ll be a twee affair. It’ll probably smell vaguely like flowers, grass and general outdoorsery, because Swift is like, y’know, a rural Earthy type.

The packaging will no doubt be all cutesy, pink and covered in butterflies and ribbons and be the most girlie thing ever released.

However, if it is to stay true to the personality of the singer, then it will have to be essentially a bottle of virtually unscented water that is somehow more boring that water itself.

Imagine a cup of lukewarm water left on a windowsill next to a scented candle and you’re aiming toward the right area for what this product will (should?) be like.

Unless of course, it is made from Taylor’s tears, spilled from her ducts when thinking about all those mind-crushingly dull boyfriends she’s had all these years.

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If rumours are to be believed, then Taylor Swift’s next album is going to be about Jake Gyllenhaal. That means, of course, her next album is going to be filled with boring love songs or boring break-up songs. The only thing that’s certain is that it will be more tedious than eating Rich Tea biscuits covered in cat litter.

Why doesn’t Taylor fall on the sword for her ‘art’ and go out with someone massively inappropriate like Randy Quaid or Dog The Bounty Hunter? That would ensure that her next album was a total hoot to listen to!

However, Taylor is insistent on dating people as dull as she is and apparently, she spend the weekend with Jake Gyllencan’tbebothertypinghisnameoutconstantly in New York city. They probably drank some coffee and sat silently in a park looking at ducks.

That’s not true actually. The date went like this.

She took him to a taping of Saturday Night Live (and by ‘taping’, you can assume that this meant going to see it being filmed, rather than the pair switched the TV but watched the digital numbers go ’round on her VHS recorder as it taped the show from the television – although that seems plausible) and when the lights dimmed, she told her bodyguard to sling his hook so that Gyllenhaal could sit next to her and nearly hold her hand.

A witness:

“They chatted a lot, but no kissing or hand holding or anything affectionate.”

If she’d dated Dog the Bounty Hunter, he would have sneakily got to second base and then leapt through the air to catch some criminal while shouting “Brah” at the end of every sentence.

Then, the coma-inducing duo spent the next day having brunch (the most boring of all meals) before taking a stroll in Brooklyn’s Park Slope neighborhood.

That’s where they probably silently stared at ducks.

And of course, Him From Donnie Darko will end up in a boring ditty:

Taylor says:

“Every person I’ve fallen for, they’ve all been a song. That kind of justifies [the exes] being in my life.”

God knows she didn’t pick up tips on how to give blow-jobs or anything vaguely interesting or salacious as that. If you date a Jonas brother, all you’re going to learn is how to constantly talk like you’re in a job interview.

Here’s hoping that Taylor Swift gets addicted to mind-bending drugs over the course of the next 12 months. Or a plane engine lands on her house. That’d be fun.

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Taylor Swift  – musical cress – has had a bumper 12 months or so, rising to baffling stardom with the twee-est, more Dawson Creeky music ever written and, of course, finding  time to get involved in the lamest beef ever with Kanye West.

And like all whining singer-songwriters, she’s rather fond of baring her soul through her songs, which usually equates to complaining about ex-lovers. We’ve yet to hear any singer-songwriter crooning about crying over a compilation tape that an ex made for them. Bad darts.

Anyway, Taylor is now single (presumably because no-one wants to become the subject of one of her insipid ditties) and she’s revealed that she’s loving it and not looking for a new boyfriend.

The singer and actress has dated Joe Jonas and Twilight star Taylor Lautner in the past, which puts an image of staggeringly dull sex in our filthy heads. You can imagine just about any of the mentioned people dry heaving and nearly fainting at the mere presence of an engorged member.

They’re all so toweringly feeble that any movement of blood to an extremity would probably see them crying with dizziness.

And so, Swift has noted that, while her relationships inspire her work, she’s not planning on jumping into a new one anytime soon.

She might be enjoying ‘the single life’ like the girls hecklerspray knows from the pub by jumping into beds with strangers. That, or she really likes being despairingly lonely.

There’s probably a sensible third option, but we can’t be bothered to acknowledge it properly because we’re gits like that.

Taylor said:

“Being single is wonderful and I love it. I don’t ever have a morning where I wake up and say, ‘I really need to find a boyfriend today.’”

That’s not stopping people linking Taylor romantically to yet another beige dullard… this time, John Mayer. And all this is probably going into the next album.

Taylor revealed:

“I will say everything in my music.”

“There’s been extreme joy, extreme pain, extreme curveballs. Sometimes when things impact you so intensely, it takes writing a song to get over them.”

That’s right.

Get all those raw emotions and then get the rolling pin out and painfully and slowly surpress them until they sound like every other bland MOR bollocks ever written.

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The Eurovision Song Contest is almost upon us, and…

No, actually, wait. The Eurovision Song Contest isn’t almost upon us at all. It’s weeks away. Honestly, there’s ages before the Eurovision Song Contest. It’s much too early to bother with any of it. Really, it is. Why don’t you take the time you were planning to read this and do something more constructive? Say hi to your neighbour. Write that book you always promised yourself. It’s better this way.

No? Fine then, here’s the Eurovision 2009 rundown for Sasha Son from Lithuania…

Lithuania · Sasha Son, Love

OK, this is just ridiculous. Sasha Son is apparently a big star in Lithuania, although we’d expect that this is more for the stupid angle of his gay little hats than any actual musical ability. If his song Love sounds familiar, it’s because it bascially is – it’s Falling by Alicia Keys but with all the orgasmy noises replaced with mind-numbing generic message placards like ‘Stop The Violence’, ‘A Helping Hand’ and, possibly ‘Can You Pick Up Some More Milk On The Way Home?’. What’s Love about? Well it appears to have some sort of overarching social theme, but it repeats the word ‘love’ 17 times in every chorus so bugger it, let’s say it’s about love. We’ve already spent too long on this dog’s dinner.

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You know how Brad Pitt is constantly getting stalked by the paparazzi wherever he goes, much to his clear annoyance?

Well, you’ll never guess what he thinks of them.

In an interview with The Today Show, Brad Pitt has announced that he hates the paparazzi, but he loves his family. Steady on there, Brad – much more of this controversial ‘good things are good and bad things are bad’ talk and there’s a decent chance that you’ll end up literally melting our mind. What? You like your family? That’s literally crazy. Video after the jump.

We’re starting to think that Brad Pitt is a lost cause. The poor man just doesn’t know how to promote a movie. Later this month, Brad’s new film The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button is released, and it looks like it could be one of the best films of the year. Or at least it would be if Brad Pitt could sell the ruddy thing convincingly.

Now, if Angelina Jolie was the star of Benjamin Button it’d be a different story. She’d be rolling out stories of how many weapons her children have and how much she hates Jennifer Aniston and seeing how many babies she could clip onto each tit and the end result would be, well, nobody would watch the movie because it’d be an Angelina Jolie movie and nobody’s that mental, but at least there would be loads of headlines about her. Sometimes that’s enough.

But Brad Pitt? His promotion of Benjamin Button is just wildly dull. It started badly – with a dreary anecdote about his kids – and now it’s inexplicably managed to get worse. Brad Pitt has been interviewed by The Today Show, and the two main thrusts of the outcome are that a) Brad Pitt loves his kids and b) Brad Pitt doesn’t love the paparazzi. First the quotes and then the video:

“I’m really proud of this family. I look at my sons and my daughters – one is from Vietnam, one is from Cambodia, one is from Ethiopia and here are these kids who were born in Namibia and in France, and they’re brothers and sisters… Truly, I feel rich being around them. Each one of them offers so much to the mix.”

“Let me be very blunt, I hate them. I hate these people. I don’t understand how they do that for a living. We have to make a distinction between people who photograph celebrities at events and people who climb over walls wearing camouflage… calling out your kids’ names as you try to take them to school so they’ll look that way. I have no respect for these people. There should be laws against it.”

Really Brad Pitt? You hate the paparazzi? We would have never guessed – all this time we thought you were ordering your security to hug them when they got too close. Hug them hard. By the neck.

Anyway, we can sort of see Brad Pitt’s point here – his family does deserve a base amount of privacy from time to time, if only because it’d keep them out of the poxy magazines once in a while – but come on, you’re promoting a film here! Can’t you dredge up some kind of huge inappropriately personal aspect of your life and endlessly drone on about that instead?

Jesus, it’s almost like Brad Pitt wants his potentially Oscar-winning movie to be judged on its merits or something. That’s literally disgusting.

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Madonna has never been shy about displaying her love, and by ‘love’ we obviously mean ‘grotty old lady vagina’.

But her actual love? That’s a different story. Madonna knows that love is a tender and private thing, and therefore always keeps it to herself like a coy little schoolgirl. A schoolgirl who’s been dipped into an acid bath and then sandblasted, obviously, but a schoolgirl nonetheless.

This coyness was on full show last night, when Madonna sat her rumoured new boyfriend Alex Rodriguez in the front row of her concert in Miami and kept making funny little glances towards him during some of her more sentimental songs. Oh, and she did something else to him as well – something mind-scarringly ghastly. Not an exaggeration.

Keep it to yourself, but the divorce between Guy Ritchie and Madonna might have actually been quite a good idea in retrospect. While they were married, Guy Ritchie made some of the worst films in history and Madonna… well, she made some of the worst films in history too, but there’s nothing particularly new about that.

But since the divorce, everything has changed. There’s a fighting chance that Guy Ritchie’s new Sherlock Holmes movie won’t be an absolute dogturd, and Madonna seems revitalised by her new freedom. Not only is she openly discussing her feelings now, but it seems like she’s edging her supposed relationship with Alex Rodriguez closer and closer into the public eye.

True, Madonna isn’t spending Thanksgiving with Alex Rodriguez, but yesterday she gave him the next best thing – a front row seat at her Sticky And Sweet concert in Miami. And one of the good seats, too – one where where you can see every vein pulsing in her labia underneath whatever borderline-illegal excuse for a leotard she’s decided to wear.

More than that, though, Madonna also treated Alex Rodriguez to something that literally dozens of gay South African men would kill for – she personally serenaded him. According to reports, as well as exchanging shy little glances through the concert, Madonna kept her eyes trained on Alex Rodriguez throughout the duration of You Must Love Me, welling up with tears when A-Rod smiled back at her.

By the way, we’re not sure if Madonna chose You Must Love Me because the title forms part of her sci-fi brainwashing of Alex Rodriguez or not. We’re guessing she did, because she similarly maintained eye contact with Rodriguez throughout two new songs: Hey, How About A Bit Of Foreplay Now And Again and Take The Rubbish Out, Slave.

Anyway, tender unspoken dedications weren’t the only thing that Madonna had in store for Alex Rodriguez during her concert. May we present to you the single most nightmarishly disgusting sentence ever published on hecklerspray, courtesy of The New York Daily News:

In a couple of hotter moments, Madge gyrated in A-Rod’s direction while winking at him and later went pneumatic on a speaker while staring his way.

Pneumatic. Gyrated. Winking. Bleurgh. We’d just like to apologise for any nausea, mental dislocation, shrieking night terrors, exploding eye haemorrhoids, dizziness, murderous rages or gout brought on by that last sentence. Remember, the New York Daily News wrote it, not us.

Still, though, so long as Madonna and Alex Rodriguez are happ… no. No we can’t do it. No funny last sentence here – we’re genuinely going to vomit. Sorry.

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