Angelina Jolie is believed to be going spastic at recent reports that Brad Pitt might be having “a bit laugh and carry on” with a mystery woman on the set of his new film.

However, these ‘beliefs’ and ‘reports’ are coming from a turgid UK rag owned by pornography-king Richard Desmond, and there seems to be a bit of a cloud hanging over our tabloid press at the minute. We’re not convinced of any Woodward and Bernstein –style investigative journalism at work.

However, there is a photo of a woman touching his arm. Yes, you heard right. The dirty swine. His ARM is absolutely up to its nuts in hand BLART.

In the interests of complete transparency of the British press, we review the evidence in more detail…

First of all, this ‘mystery woman’. Just who is she, what is her job, why is she occasionally seen near Brad?

There seem to be few indications, other than the fact that she has only been photographed on the film set where she seems a constant presence, prominently wearing a production-staff ID around her neck and a copy of the shooting schedule clipped to her belt. THERE JUST AREN’T ANY CLUES! It’s almost like she works there or something.

Why are they spending so much time together? According to a ‘source’, “they’re always hanging out during filming and laughing.” What can this mean? Why only during filming? IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! And what’s with all this laughing? What can the millionaire Brad Pitt possibly have to laugh about?

And of course, the truly damning piece of evidence – the arm-touching photo.

Oh do you know what, we can’t be bothered. We’re going to go out on a limb(!) and say that a female production runner on forthcoming film World War Z had to grab the arm of doe-eyed imbecile Brad Pitt to steer him in the direction of his next scene, if only to prevent him repeatedly banging into a brick wall with mounting confusion like the over-grown toddler he actually is.

And that a gossip rag more contemptible than even us has published the picture and is now encouraging it’s readers to wonder if Angelina now feels the way Jennifer Aniston did when Brad was merrily bursting Jolie on set. Classy.

We’re going to stake our reputation on the belief that Brad Pitt is not having an affair. And that Brad Pitt’s arm is not having an affair with a woman’s hand. And – very importantly – that Brad Pitt’s penis is not having an affair with a woman’s inner vaginal walls.

That last part is DEFINITELY not the case.

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It is a fact, passed down through from hecklerspray writer to hecklerspray writer that if ever someone utters the words “haters gonna hate” or any other variation on that theme that they have automatically marked themselves out as a hateful figure. Therefore it is easy to imagine the vehement feelings of anger that course through our collective veins every time we hear from representatives of the Cher Lloyd ‘Anti-Hater Brigade’.

Is Cher Lloyd a hateful figure? Probably not. After all, she’s just a lassie singing some songs and making a wee bit of money. There’s nothing inherently hateful in that, is there?

That being said, Pope Gregory VII wasn’t an inherently hateful figure either but he also initiated a crusade against another kind of “hater”, the Muslims in the Middle East and look how that ended up. Largely with a lot more Christians and, if young Cher has her way, her own crusade will leave us with a lot more Cher Lloyd fans. So perhaps Swagger Jagger and its inevitable follow-ups will kill more people than the crusades.

Of course, we can’t stop clickin ’bout her, writin’ ’bout her, or tweeting ’bout her but that seems to be because Cher has had the beginnings of a mental breakdown where she believes that absolutely everyone in her immediate vicinity is a “hater”. In order for people to stop getting ‘all up in her grill’ she would really need to stop forcing her ‘grill’ upon people.

Cher, one of the runners up on this year’s “Cheryl Cole-a-like 2011″, is reportedly rubbing her expensive stylists up the wrong way (not like that) by refusing to take their style advice. In a shocking move by a teenager, she appears to have pissed her “hater” stylists off by insisting on styling herself in her own image. By “her own image” we mean the image of a High Street Cheryl Cole who’s been fired through a spraypaint factory by a Howitzer.

Now magazine has been claiming recently that Ms Lloyd has been acting like a ‘little diva’ and one of their well-known made-up ‘sources’ added:

‘Cher thinks she knows best. She has her own ideas about the way she wants to look and sound. Her stylists wanted to take her edgy like Rihanna, but Cher won’t move past the urban look.’

That’s right folks! Stop the presses! Here’s tomorrow’s front page:

TEENAGER IN “KNOWING BEST” SHOCKER

It’s now well known that a teenager has never, ever thought that they knew best about how to dress or carry themselves. In fact, teenagers crave orders and structure laid down by strict, over-paid idiots called Tarquin. Everyone knows that. Everyone except the “haters” at Syco & Now Magazine.

Lloyd’s boss Simon Cowell is also said to be fed up with the youngster, telling his friends that she is too ‘gobby’ and yet another invented ‘source’ claimed that many SYCO staff feel the same.

‘Cher gets tattoos and shaves her hair without consultation. It’s great that she’s got such a strong creative vision, but her people end up reading about what she’s done in the papers.’

It is widely rumoured that Cowell will be renegotiating a strip-search clause into Lloyd’s contract where she must consent to getting her kit off for her ‘people’ to make sure that she hasn’t got “I <3 Cheryl Cole” tattooed on the inside of her thigh… again. The more that is written about Lloyd’s hatred of “haters”, the more we begin to believe that there might actually be some kind of “hater” conspiracy designed to devastate Cher’s confidence.

We’ll put our best man undercover to find out.

The gobby, stubborn teenager recently addressed the many haters that attack her online, explaining that she would rather people are talking about her than ignoring her before going on to say that she was proud of her fans for misinterpreting the tone of most articles which are written about her and thanked them for living their obsessive, unfulfilled lives vicariously through her and her ‘swagger jagger’.

She also suggested that anyone who didn’t buy her next single “Blah, Blah, You Just A Hater” would be- unsurprisingly- a hater.

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Daybreak, ITV’s woeful attempt at going head to head with BBC Breakfast, is in trouble as ratings continue to plummet.

The breakfast show, hosted by former One Show presenters Adrian Chiles and Christine Bleakley, is only averaging somewhere around 500,000 viewers per show.

500,000 sounds like a lot, but when you consider that even Channel 4’s god-awful Seven Days experiment is pulling in more viewers per episode, you know that something is going seriously wrong.

But why are viewers abandoning ITV’s brand new and sparkly magazine show? The fact that Daybreak is one of the most mediocre and drab light entertainment programmes on UK television could be the problem. Even Loose Women is more entertaining than Daybreak, if only because watching 4 decaying hags fawn over Michael Bublé whilst their genitals audibly creak with every chair shift makes all of us here at the Hecklerspray office chuckle every time.

Another problem could be the presenters. Adrian ‘face of a car crash victim’ Chiles and Christine ‘if I show enough leg maybe people won’t realise I can’t present’ Bleakley.

There was a media circus surrounding the two personality deficient presenters when they defected from the BBC to ITV and they’ve failed to live up to the hype.

The One Show was bearable because they were only on screen for half an hour at most, but with Daybreak the audience is subjected to the train wreck that is the chemistry between Chiles and Bleakley for what seems like a lifetime.

Plus there’s no getting over the fact that Chiles has that whole Austrian kidnapper look about him and every time he glances at Bleakley you sense he’s plotting something sinister.

Daybreak will inevitably get a revamp sooner or later, but unless every morning is in fact dedicated to Chiles carrying out the evil plot we all suspect he’s running through in his mind every time he lays eyes on his co-presenter, don’t expect it to amount to much.

If anything, the most depressing fact to emerge from the whole Daybreak debacle is that there are half a million people out there who willingly gaze upon Adrian Chiles’ mangled face every morning whilst eating their breakfast.

What’s wrong with them?

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If Kate Gosselin plays her cards right she could soon be the flagship of two TV shows.

Jon & Kate Plus 8 being the first, of course. That’s obvious. Her second show isn’t as conventional. That’s because Hugh Hefner has recently offered to pay to digitally add Gosselin to every single Diane-episode of Cheers that was ever filmed. Using Forrest Gump technology she’d be seen sitting between Norm & Cliff gnawing on pretzels & slobbery mail bags.

We would watch that. What we wouldn’t watch is anything where-in her clothes were off. That, in actuality, is where Hefner enters the story.

Well it’s good news and bad news for Kate Gosselin. The good news is that even though her husband hates her now and wishes she was never born, Hugh Hefner still finds her endlessly fascinating. Of course, given his age this could just be because she wears so many bright colours and styles her hair like a pregnant chicken, but still, she’s got what it takes to catch a man’s attention.

Hugh Hefner does find himself wondering what her magical milk-makers look like under all those shirts though, and he’d wager most men in America are desperate to know too.

He’s wrong, of course, but he’s allegedly offered her $400,000 to find out anyway. This according to the New York Daily News:

The octomom is said to have received a $400,000 offer from Hef to take it all off for Playboy, but she doesn’t plan to reveal her lady bits in the nudie mag. “Hugh sent her a letter, but Kate was totally mortified and threw it away! She didn’t think it was appropriate because of the children.”

Sorry Hugh, but it seems Kate is keeping her privies private. Jon, on the other hand, offered to sell this picture of what Kate usually looks like for under $10,000:

That’s a right steal, if you ask us – and authentically realistic! Still not good enough? Well that’s because you’re a hungry-eyed pervert. One thing you’ll have to look forward to though, pervert, is a glimpse of the extracted stomach skin Kate had removed in her tummy tuck surgery. Gosselin’s far to modest to pose for the cold, cold camera, but she’ll sure let you see her former front-flab. It’s been flying at a leathery half-mast in her yard ever since that last Kennedy died – just a’ flappin’ in the wind. Bravely flappin’. Flappin’ for America.

We hear it’s getting it’s own show on Spike TV.

We honestly heard that.

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Everyone wants to see Bronx Mowgli Wentz – because if the face matches the name then that’s one ugly baby.

But cool your jets, world. Pete Wentz doesn’t roll like those other celebrity idiots. True, he does roll like those other celebrity idiots in that he’s got a stupid haircut, a humiliatingly-named baby and he married one of the Simpson girls without really thinking it through first, but Pete Wentz definitely isn’t selling his baby photos to a magazine.

Bronx Mowgli’s just too precious for that. Plus it’ll mean that now Pete’ll make a crapload from selling the reality TV show rights. A crapload.

We don’t know about you, but we’re all celebrity babied out this week. Seriously, Ricky Martin’s mechanically-farmed twins have absolutely given us our fill of looking at the offspring of people we almost certainly wouldn’t be able to spend more than 30 seconds around in public before hurling ourselves out of the nearest window.

So we should be thankful to Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson, then, because they’ve decided not to sell pictures of their baby Bronx Mowgli Wentz to the highest bidder. On his blog, Pete Wentz wrote:

About baby pics gossip: truth is like every celeb couple we were offered mounds and mounds of money by mags from here to Guam to pimp out the baby. We just don’t want to go down that road with him. We are not placing judgment on those that do as they often use the money in a very charitable way. However, we have made the decision to not sell Bronx’s baby pictures right now.

That’s a shame, because we heard that babies created by half of the rhythm section from a second-rate emo band and a woman who’s famous because she’s the sister of a woman with moviestar pretensions even though she’s never been in a single decent movie tend to go for millions.

But still, it’s weirdly noble that Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson have decided not to sell their baby photos to a magazine for cash. And we’re sure that Bronx Mowgli will grow up to be eternally grateful because they chose not to exchange a photo of him looking like an unrecognisable lump of flesh for millions of dollars that they could have put in a trust fund to pay for his education. Really.

Oh, we’re just kidding. Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson obviously want their son to be brought up as normally as possibly – at least until little Bronx Mowgli realises that not every child has a name that’s a composite of a geographical location and a Disney character, of course, because that’s the day that Bronx Mowgli will be arrested for stabbing his parents to death, and that isn’t very normal at all.

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Things we’ve learnt today, number 14 – Jessica Alba has an unusually dominant hairiness gene.

She must have, because Jessica Alba is on the cover of this week’s OK! magazine with her new baby daughter Honor Marie and we’ll be blowed if Alba Jr doesn’t have the fullest head of hair we’ve ever seen on any single living creature ever. It’s astounding.

At least, we’re assuming that Jessica Alba’s daughter has a thick head of hair. For all we know it could be a wig covering up for the time when Honor Marie went out, got drunk and had ‘I hated The Love Guru’ tattooed across her bald scalp deliberately to try and spite Jessica Alba and sabotage her big-money covershoot. In fact, screw it, let’s just say that’s what happened anyway.

Jessica Alba really couldn’t have picked a worse time to have her baby, could she? Usually when a female celebrity has a baby, their profile shoots up and everyone thinks they’re wonderful, but that hasn’t really happened with Jessica Alba.

The truth is that people don’t care too much about Jessica Alba’s baby because they’re all babied-out. Nicole Kidman had a baby and Jamie Lynn Spears had a baby and Angelina Jolie had two babies and so just even thinking about Jessica Alba’s baby makes people want to hurt themselves, to be honest. It makes them want to hurt themselves in the eyes.

However, although Jessica Alba is so bland that she can’t drum up attention towards her baby without falling back on the old sexy talk, young Honor Marie had a genius wheeze up her sleeve – she made sure that she was born with an adult male’s haircut.

Perfect – and with a USP like rampant man-hair, Jessica Alba managed to sell her baby photos to OK! magazine for a cool $1.5 million. The fact that Honor Marie was born looking like a model in a poster on the wall of a small-town British barbershop in the mid-1980s wasn’t really brought up in the accompanying interview, but we know. We all know.

Anyway, Jessica Alba and her husband Cash Warren told OK!:

“She looks like a girl version of me,” Cash says. “She has my nose, my eyebrows and my…” “Forehead and dimples,” Jessica finishes, adding, “She has my mouth when I was a baby. And my ears.” “Maybe Honor is a mixture,” Cash reconsiders. “I want her to look like me, because a daughter looking like Jessica, I’d kill myself!”

What? Cash Warren would kill himself if his daughter looked like Jessica Alba? If she looked like his own famously beautiful wife? What an odd thing to say. Does that mean:

a) Cash Warren would kill himself because he thinks that Jessica Alba is really ugly?

b) Cash Warren would kill himself in advance so he wouldn’t have to deal with the boyfriends that a girl who looks like Jessica Alba would inevitably be swamped with? Or

c) Cash Warren would kill himself out of shame for finding his daughter attractive?

We genuinely don’t know, but it’s a weird quote to put in an interview accompanying the first public pictures of your child. Imagine in 20 years time when the family are reminiscing together: “Shall we look at your baby photos, Honor Marie?” “What, the ones in the magazine where Dad threatened suicide for no discernible reason? No, I’m OK without, ta.”

In fact, between that and the weird Roger The Dodger haircut that the stylist has decided to give Honor Marie, it might be a good idea if Jessica Alba put her copy of the magazine in the bottom of a drawer and just forgot about it forever.

Read more:

Jessica Alba’s Dream Baby – OK!

When Angelina Jolie's impending twins finally spill out, they will likely be accompanied by sunbeams and rainbows.

The whole world waits on edge, listening intently for the double baby-wail emanating from some crummy French town.

Everyone, no doubt, will demand to see pictures – and all magazines everywhere know this.

That's why there's such an intense bidding war going on.

And if you're the mag that offers the most money, you get the pics – along with a strange stipulation.

You could never print the term Brangelina behind your glossy cover again.

hecklerspray has been selling pictures of its kids since way before it was cool. Why, a headshot of our darling Wednesday fetched us almost ten dollars once – almost enough to pay for the two dozen multi-colored barrettes we had to buy for the shoot. We're not bragging about that, we just want everyone to know that financially we're wizzes.

Then celebrity baby pics turned into a fad, and even B-movie background characters tried hocking their spawn.

The golden pony of all baby pics though has got to be the two Angelina Jolie is about to simultaneously spit out while holding Brad Pitt's hand that isn't operating a hospital-room remote control.

So far bidding for them is around the $16million mark. The Pitt-Jolies are no fools. They know exactly how badly magazines want them – and that's why they've declared that contractually, the winning bid can never use the term 'Brangelina' again.

TMZ says:

"A source in the know tells TMZ that one of the conditions of getting the J-P twins' first pictures is that the winning mag is forbidden from using 'Brangelina'. Multiple sources tell us the couple hates the moniker — but no one more than Angelina."

Well, that'd be no loss to us. Our bidding participation ended at the $25 dollar mark, so we'll not be legally obligated to cease with all Brangelinas, but come August 4 we were gonna start referring to them as 'the Booger-lickers'.

It actually sounds good once you to use it in context. 'The Booger-lickers are starring in another movie together,' 'the Booger-lickers are having another French baby,' or 'the Booger-lickers have been voted America's hottest parents by Elle magazine.' See that? It's got zip.

Most of us don't get the reference, it's just something Stu announced at a fairly recent board meeting.

In the finest tradition of any parent of a popular tabloid celebrity, yet another money-making scheme has been hatched by Michael Lohan, father of Lindsay and rumoured father of future singing sensation (ahem) Ashley Kaufmann.

This has to be some kind of record, the speed at which the cynical wheels of the man's mind have been turning, pushing him ever closer to the seventh level of hell in his endless pursuit to make a quick buck from his family. For god's sake – it hasn't even been confirmed that Ashley is his daughter. To say hecklerspray is incredulous is something of an understatement. And when we understate, you know something is really up.

Yes, it has been revealed that Michael Lohan has approached a number of tabloid magazines, offering to sell his story (or potential story, as we should actually call it) for a rather tidy sum of cashmoney. The man doesn't even know if he is actually the parent of this girl, yet he already has contingency plans in the works to fatten his wallet through her.

What the fuck?

There's the sickening fact that Ashley Kaufmann already has something of a pop career lined up for her, solely on the strength that she might be the daughter of a bloke who popped out a sprog famous for getting wasted and flashing her lady-bits. That should have been it – that should have been bad enough. That should have been the thing that pushed our collective consciousness at hecklerspray over the chasm, into the endless void below, never to return.

But it wasn't – we remained strong. We fought through and we tried to make some sense of it. By golly gosh gee whizz – she might turn out to have some talent. It would be a novelty in the bloodline, that's for sure.

But this – this - is a step too far. We may be forced to renounce our semi-popular celebrity-bating ways and take up refuge in a remote monastery, praying to a god who may not even exist to help us. For we, as a human race, have been forsaken.

Ashley Kaufmann might not even be Michael Lohan's daughter, yet he's already trying to wring money out of her.

Do you see?

One more time?

She might not even be his daughter, yet he's already trying to wring money out of her.

Yes, there are claims that the money would be used to fund 'back child support' that ol' spunky (potentially) owes, but surely there are other ways to get a hold of this? And surely, just maybe possibly surely, there's an extra few dollah dollahs in it for he with the (allegedly) wayward penis? Call us cynical – please, do, we like it – but that's what we  at hecklerspray smell cooking.

But wait! Put down the razor blade, turn off the gas, take your head out of the cooker and untie that noose – there may yet be hope for civilisation as we know it! For the bods at People and OK! magazine have apparently turned down Lohan's approach! There's a chance that for once in this messed up, pointless and unfulfilling world that things have gone the way they should – that good prevails over evil, sense toes the line and we sit back, relax and enjoy things for a brief few minutes.

If you're listening god, which you probably aren't because you're off talking to insane people in the Bible Belt who no one will believe when they tell us all you spaketh to them: please stop Michael Lohan from doing this. If you do we'll bake you a fresh pasty, or even a cake – we might even say 'thank you'. It would be the first and last thanks you'd ever get from us, but we'd mean it. We really, really would.

Hecklerspray are a bunch of merry people who would never inflict any harm on you.

We’d do anything to help you out. Say you thought some Russian military types had tampered with your food; we’d be there to help you. Sure, we’d be putting our own life at risk as we gingerly slurped your tomato soup, but we love you and would never turn down your request.

However, there are some factors that we can’t control: famine, Bono, global warming and hay fever (oh dear God the hay fever). At first the problem is confined to one area, but it then slowly spreads around the world. Look at Bono – Ireland suffered for so long until he was unleashed to the world.

Now it’s England’s turn to unleash one of their ropiest creations, this time on an unsuspecting America. Lily Allen has been granted a visa. Batten down the hatches, quick!

Lily’s cheeky chirpy cockney songs have never been off radio and TV stations in England. Most of the time it’s a lucky dip to see if Smile or LDN is going to be played next. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t every ten minutes or so.

But then, would the public like to hear a makeshift hecklerspray band doing a freestyle jam on a few metal cans and coat hangers? No, probably not.

In-between writing and recording her second album, Lily has been doing other stuff as well. You see, she’s not like the other one dimensional singers without a soul or conscience. She can do more than pout and attempt to look sexy – Lily can present too! Well, that’s what BBC 3 believes anyway.

Some genius came up with the Lily Allen and Friends show. A programme where a few celebrity people come on to plug a TV show or product they’re involved with.

In-between all of the ker-azy chat comes the part of the show that makes up about 89% of the content, the always reliable feature: “clips from the internet showcasing wacky people which means I can sit on my arse and do fuck all for a bit,” used every week. Honestly, we’d never seen the Chocolate Rain man before. We are so thankful. The show really is worth the license fee alone to watch TV content which comes from YouTube.

For some time now, Lily’s wild child antics have seen her banned from America. Having the odd drink doesn’t seem to be a popular thing with Uncle Sam and her persistent drunken nights out haven’t helped. For a long time she’s been banned from the land of obesity and Maury. Now Magazine reports:

“Lily had to have her pee regularly checked and then blood tests on top to prove she wasn’t on drugs before the US government would give her a working visa.”

We just feel sorry for the poor sod that had to check her piss. How this was done we aren’t sure, but we’re willing to bet it was all down to the texture and aroma of the urine. But that doesn’t matter now; she’s got the visa, and she was reported as feeling:

“Chuffed.”

Though we would like to remind US visa officials of her odd antics at last week’s Glamour awards. She clearly wasn’t sticking to tap water or lemonade during the ceremony and looked slightly worse for wear. This will probably scare the shit out of the people who gave her legal permission to visit America.

Have fun with her in the USA. And don’t feel inclined to send her back anytime soon.

It’s a little later in the week than we’re used to seeing it but, here’s this week’s drunken catastrophe, folks: Lily Allen.

Who had bets on Lily Allen for this week? Odds were vastly in favor of another Amy Winehouse meltdown, but when Lily Allen showed up at the Glamour Magazine awards with bright pink hair and that glistening, boozy glow, she quickly became the hammered, career plummeting favourite.

And sure not to disappoint, we can all enjoy Lily Allen’s victory speech, also known as the morning after regretful blog entry.

Lily Allen’s appearance at the Glamour Magazine Awards in London earlier this week confirmed that if anything is constant in this world, it’s that celebrities will continued to get hammered in public and have to be carried off by some burly bodyguard, or something.

Lily Allen arrived at the awards with hot pink hair and accepted a special award from the editor for her ‘multi-faceted’ career.

So, according to the editor of Glamour magazine, the many facets of Lily Allen’s career that merit awarding are a crap TV show, being pregnant, not being allowed into America even though the words on the Statue of Liberty say they’ll take all the people no one else wants, not being pregnant anymore, and belting out a song here and there.

Sometime after accepting her award for having lots of facets and stuff, Lily Allen had to be carried out of the party after having a few too many drinks. It’s okay, though. She’s real sorry about it. Honest, you can officially read about it on her official MySpace blog. She officially writes:

“… I’m putting my hands up, I got very drunk last night, too drunk. It’s not cool getting that drunk. Kids, drink responsibly or you’ll end up looking like this, not pretty!”

That’s right, kids. You drink too much and you’ll end up looking like Lily Allen. Maybe Lily Allen’s parents drank too much and that’s how Lily Allen ended up looking like Lily Allen. Yikes. That’s enough to frighten anyone into sobriety.

Hey girls, did you know you’ll never be as beautiful as Kate Hudson? You didn’t? Well you’re not, so why don’t you just hurl yourself under a lorry or something.

We’re not being cruel here, we’re just stating a fact. People magazine has named its most beautiful people of the year and Kate Hudson has won. You weren’t even in the top ten, you massive uggo.

Don’t get sad, it’s the truth. And you can’t dispute that a massive magazine like People doesn’t know what it’s talking about, because look at the runners-up who came after Kate Hudson – Mary J Blige, Bruce Willis‘ daughter, a woman we’ve never heard of whose name is Beard, the ginger woman who got her minge out in Short Cuts. That’s beauty you just can’t argue with, girls.

In the past people have said that the secret of beauty is a sense of inner calm or clear skin or a complex million-to-one genetic fluke that happens to fit society’s faddishly ephemeral ideals at any given time, but all these people are idiots.

Because People magazine has spoken, and it seems that the real secret of beauty is making a lot of rubbish romantic comedies that are all basically identical and about as funny as spinal injuries. It’s true – last year People magazine named Drew Barrymore as its most beautiful person and this year it’s picked Kate Hudson, who’s basically just Drew Barrymore with slightly curlier hair.

Although there’s no doubting Kate Hudson’s beauty – she is, remember, so beautiful that Owen Wilson tried to kill himself when they split up – it seems like an odd choice to us. After all, Kate Hudson only came 54th in the recent FHM sexiest woman in the world poll, and you can’t tell us that horny 14-year-old boys judge beauty differently to 37-year-old women. That’s just frankly ludicrous.

Anyway, as ever, the best part of People‘s most beautiful list is reading what each beautiful person has to say about when they feel at their most beautiful. And this is what Kate Hudson said:

“I feel at my most beautiful when I see myself on the cover of a magazine and I’ve clearly been airbrushed. I mean really airbrushed. I love it when they airbrush the shit out of my face until I barely even look human any more, because that way I know I’ve made millions of women around the world feel ugly and insecure. And we all know that nobody’s more receptive to cosmetic adverts than ugly insecure women, right girls?”

Ah, not really. Instead, Kate Hudson actually said this:

“I don’t even remember the last time I got a manicure. I even got to the point where I started waxing my own legs because I don’t have the time. I’d rather be home with Ryder sitting there waxing my legs. I haven’t gotten a facial in a million years. I don’t do those kinds of things. And when I do, I always think, ‘I should do this more often’.”

So that’s that. But don’t worry if you think that, by parading Kate Hudson round and giving her a title based on a notion that every person finds individually subjective, People magazine is setting dangerously unobtainable standards for millions of young girls who’ll potentially develop eating disorders in a fruitless quest to appear on the most beautiful list in the future.

Because Vanessa Hudgens is also on the list, so the message is that girls can just as easily make the list if they get their vaginas out on the internet instead.

Read more:

Kate Hudson Is PEOPLE’s Most Beautiful Cover Girl – People

Hecklerspray's Matthew Laidlow recently applied for a job at a magazine, not knowing that it was to be edited by Peaches Geldof as part of an MTV reality TV show. The following is a true story… 

Firstly, let's be clear – nobody told me that I was going going for a job on a reality TV show or that Peaches Geldof was going to be the editor. Both these factors would have put me off straight away.

So here is my story of how I almost worked with the stupidly-named celebrity wannabe Peaches Geldof.

After being rejected time and time again off various publications and other high profile media outlets, it was getting to be a bit of an annoyance. However, a very kind friend pointed me in the direction of an advert to write for a new magazine.

It would be aimed at youngsters aged between 18-24. Being a hip and young person, I thought I could do this perfectly well. After all, I fit in that age demographic and hecklerspray seems to have gotten on some radars. So I scribbled out the application form and answered some basic questions about myself and whatnot. Nothing too challenging.

After waiting a while, someone told me I ticked the right boxes and passed that stage of the 'application'. Another form was e-mailed over and I filled that in too. A few days later I was told I was to be summoned for an interview down in the big city.

As I got on the train down to London, something occurred to me. I was applying to be a writer for a magazine, but I didn't even know what I'd be writing for. For example, my knowledge of chemical engineering isn’t so hot, so I was hoping it wasn’t a magazine about that.

Another thing that bothered me was the fact I was told not to bring any examples of work down with me. Don’t get me wrong, this would probably take up a lot of time as everyone showed off their pieces, but the only thing that the publishers knew about me is that I can cleverly answer some questions on an application form. Still, I took down a couple of nicely printed-off hecklerspray articles and that magazine that painted me orange.

Finally it was time to go and face the strange interview process. Upon arrival, yet more forms were filled in and strange questions were asked. Worryingly, nothing to do with writing was asked. I kind of half-expected some vague question of whether I had any qualifications, who I currently writing for and what journalistic experience I’ve had. After all, this was going to be a 'proper' magazine wasn’t it? It just had MTV attached to it.  

Then the significance of MTV seemingly dawned on me. What kind of input would they have on this project? Would they literally film snapshots of it and broadcast one-minute updates during advert breaks during repeats of My Super Sweet 16? Or would they do something else?

One other gritty detail suddenly hit me whilst I waited for my interview. The whole process was to be filmed – the making of the magazine and the interview itself. This made me worry that MTV had intentions of getting a cheap show out of me potentially trying to cobble a few stories together. Now, I’ve had interviews for jobs before and they can be uncomfortable. But to be filmed as well, that’s just really annoying. 

As I waited for my turn, the room was full of other people waiting to be interviewed, or who had been interviewed. From small talk, it didn’t seem like it was a very formal affair. Somewhat of a relief, but still I wasn’t happy knowing that other people applying for the same job as me didn’t know anything about the style, tone or content of this magazine.

Eventually it was my turn and I walked the short distance for my interview. As I entered the battered-looking room, I was faced with two women, a bloke and a camera. I sat down, got told to adjust the mic and not to worry about being filmed. Of course, this made me worry more.  

So off we went, from the vague memories I have, I was never really asked much about why I wanted this job, what writing experience I had or what qualifications I’d gained. In a nutshell, the conversation ranged from how I’d cope with office gossip about myself to if I could handle criticism if my work was shit.

Then the conversation switched to something to do with professions. I said I respected doctors quite highly because they make a difference to people’s lives and that celebrities did bugger all, got more media attention then they deserve and get away with everything. Then this happened: 

Interviewer: "This magazine may have a celebrity editor. How would you cope with working with a celebrity?"

Me: "Umm.. I’d try my best to get on with then. After all, I’d be working with a team, so I wouldn’t want to cause a dodgy atmosphere and ruin the magazine's progress."

I don’t think my response worked. After all, Peaches Geldof was going to be editing the thing. Some have said that she's a celebrity. They're wrong, but they said it anyway.

After the solo failure that was my interview, I then had to do a group interview. How this would show me as a better person then anyone else, I don’t know. But after a quick sit-down, I was summoned back to the same room with two other people. Here we were given a scenario to act out. Each person had a number on their head, ranging from 1-10.

The higher then number, the bigger twat they are. You had to act out the situation whilst addressing the person according to whether they were God, or a pikey who wants to bum 20p of you. 

And that was it. That was my interview to work on a magazine project with MTV. As you can probably guess, I got a lovely rejection e-mail a few weeks later. Was I disappointed? A little bit, yes, but then it was a bit annoying too. Part of the blurb in the message was that I was not picked due to the high calibre of journalistic talent.

Hmm, not sure how they worked that out, since no-one was told to bring any of their work down with them.

However, what pissed me off the most was that I actually wasted money coming to London to apply for a job that was never fully explained to me. Not even what I was writing about or the fact it was going to be flogged as a TV show. If I had made it, I probably would have rejected the job opportunity once the details emerged. Especially thanks to Peaches Geldof’s involvement.

I’m not one to make a twat of myself on a tacky TV show. I’ll leave that to her. Though if I had been working with Peaches I would have been able to ask some questions directly to her, such as. “Why do you have such a stupid name?” “What do you actually do?”

I was told on the day of my interview that none of the filming of me would be aired. However, something tells me I’ll probably end up seeing myself broadcast to the world looking like a gimp. And this article doesn’t help me much ether.  

There we have it. A hecklerspray expose. I’m going back to make the tea.

It's been a hard month, knowing that Jennifer Lopez gave birth to twins but not being able to see what they look like.

Chances are your minds have spent the last few weeks racing with worries about Jennifer Lopez's twins – do they have their mother's eyes? Do they have the right amount of fingers? Is one of them a bear? Were either of them born fully-qualified airline pilots – but now the truth is finally out.

The first pictures of Jennifer Lopez's twin babies have been published on the front cover of today's People magazine. And the good news is that, judging by the pictures, both of Jennifer Lopez's twins look perfectly fine – although if we were Marc Anthony might want a DNA paternity test just to clear up any lingering suspicion that Jennifer wasn't knocked up by a Boobah. Really, the resemblance is uncanny.

As if you didn't know, Jennifer Lopez gave birth to twins last month. In many ways, Jennifer Lopez was always going to a perfect mother – she'd been through a parade of men to find which would be the most suitable father for her children, suing some failed candidates and making others wish that they'd never met her, plus her gigantic arse is the ideal counterbalance for a papoose. What more could you ask for?

Six million dollars in cash? Why, yes, that'd help as well. So it's just as well that Jennifer Lopez signed an exclusive $6 million deal with People magazine for exclusive rights to her baby pictures. After all, Jennifer's love might not cost a thing but that's only because her love wasn't about to chew on her nipples until they're ragged and shit everywhere.

And now, finally, the photos of Jennifer Lopez's twins Maximiano and Emelina have finally been published in People magazine. It's hard to tell what the twins are like from one photo, but both babies appear to have their eyes closed, which suggests that Marc Anthony is off camera showing them their new garishly matching Roberto Cavelli velour tracksuits. Anyway, The Sun reports:

Jennifer Lopez proudly shows off her baby twins Max and Emme on the front cover of People magazine. The mag reportedly forked out £3million to get the first pictures of the twins, who are just four weeks old. New mum J-Lo is clearly besotted with her new arrivals, though she will be spending some time away from them when she starts filming new movie Love and Other Possible Pursuits later this year.

But let's not be too hasty with the praise for Jennifer Lopez here – true, she might have two healthy baby and an obscenely overpaid baby photo deal with a magazine, but let's not forget that selling baby photos to a magazine might cause untold psychological emotional damage to the babies themselves.

Look at Christina Aguilera, for example – everyone cared so little about her baby photos that it'll now have to struggle through its formative years with everyone knowing that it's a massive social reject. What if the same thing happens to Jennifer Lopez's twins? What if nobody buys this edition of People magazine? How will the babies cope?

We think they'll be alright. At the very least People has ensured that the magazine will have a higher circulation than if Marc Anthony and his weirdly gaunt spooked-out horror movie face was on the cover. It'd have been lucky to sell five copies if that happened.

Read more:

See first picture of J-Lo's twins – The Sun 

One of the perks of being a famous woman is that if you ever have a baby, magazines will pay you millions of dollars to take photos of it.

And that's true whether you have an adorable baby or an angry pink monster with freakish little grasping fingers that creep you out every time you look at them. Like Christina Aguilera's baby.

Now before you get upset, remember that we're not the ones saying that. People magazine paid $1.5 million for exclusive photos of Christina Aguilera and her new baby Max, but since hardly anyone bought the issue, it's basically you who are saying that Christina Aguilera's baby is a ridiculous, funny-to-look-at waste of everyone's time. And you should be ashamed, damn you.

Who doesn't love Christina Aguilera? We know we do – whether she's dressing like a bit of a slut in her music videos or singing so loudly about being beautiful that we honestly worry she'll one day dislodge the moon, Christina Aguilera can basically do no wrong in our books. Apart from having children, of course, because that's rubbish.

Again, that's not our viewpoint but yours. You hate that Christina Aguilera had a baby boy, and you hate the baby boy itself. Even though it's just a poor defenceless baby that's never done anything wrong in any of its short life, you hate it. You hate its stupid ears and the crap middle-aged accountant haircut it was born with.

We know this because People magazine's circulation figures are 100,000 lower than usual, just because Christina Aguilera and her baby are on the front cover. Monsters And Critics reports:

The magazine reportedly paid $1.5 million for exclusive photos of Christina Aguilera and her new baby Max, but early estimates from the President's Day weekend sales show consumers weren't inspired to pick the issue up. The New York Post is reporting that the issue, which hit late last week, is on target to sell only around 1.3 million copies this week, according to some industry sources. Time Inc.'s biggest cash cow rag ordinarily sells and average 1.4 million copies a week on newsstands.

But why? Why do you – personally you – hate Christina Aguilera's baby so much? Is it because all the recent celebrity births and pregnancies have left you with a low-level baby apathy? Is it because you've finally worked out that all babies look completely bloody identical and Christina Aguilera may as well be holding a dentist's baby or even a slightly baby-shaped clump of Play-Doh and you wouldn't know any different?

Or is it because you're just plain pig sick of Christina Aguilera? We can't possibly see how it could be that, though, because during her pregnancy Christina Aguilera only referred to her baby once in public. Apart from that time she painted herself bright orange, got naked and obnoxiously screamed "Woo-Hoo! Look at me! I'm Christina Aguilera and I'm pregnant! Pregnant pregnant pregnant pregnant pregnant PREGNANT!" from the cover of a magazine for cash, of course. But, come on, what expectant mother doesn't do that?

Anyway, we hope you're happy. You've wrecked Christina Aguilera's baby's life, you unthinking swines.

And if People's sales are down because nobody cares that Christina Aguilera's baby is on the cover, just imagine what'll happen when it puts Jennifer Lopez on the cover with her twins. We'll just be lucky if nobody firebombs the newsstands.

Read more:

Christina Aguilera's baby pictures fall flat – Monsters And Critics 

Several things must have gone through Lindsay Lohan's mind as she posed for those naked photographs, like "I hope they dial down my bright red pubic hair with an airbrush" and "what will my mother think?"

But, although she was right to worry about the first one, Lindsay Lohan has no reason at all to fear the latter, because her mother Dina Lohan bloody well loves the naked Lindsay Lohan photos that were published earlier in the week.

That's good to see – Dina Lohan's endorsement of Lindsay Lohan's nude photoshoot is not only heartwarming, but it's also softened her up for all those Lindsay Lohan Hot Bitch XXX Dildo Slut Action DVDs that Lindsay will be reduced to starring in by 2010.

For someone who's pretty much had her bare genital area photographed more often than her face in recent years, the fuss caused by those Marilyn Monroe-aping naked Lindsay Lohan pictures that appeared in New York magazine this week has been far greater than anyone could have imagined. 

We're not sure why Lindsay Lohan's naked spread captured the imagination the way it did. Perhaps there was a perverse thrill in seeing the child star of The Parent Trap naked, perhaps people appreciated the artfully authentic way it reimagined Marilyn Monroe's famous Last Shoot, or perhaps it's just a clear indication that Lindsay Lohan's slow path towards starring in nothing but barely-watched cable television erotic thrillers is still dead on track.

But none of that matters, because the naked Lindsay Lohan photoshoot has at least gained the approval of Lindsay Lohan's mother Dina. MSNBC reports:

"It was very tastefully done," she told People of her daughter’s cover shoot. "I respect the photographer as an artist, so I look at them artistically,” Dina, who manages Lindsay, said of the pics. “For him to call Lindsay 46 years later and to say, 'Can you recreate these photos?' is an honor. I looked at it as art, and as Lindsay doing a character. So I don't look at them like it's Playboy; she was being a character. So if you look at it that way, you can look at it as a mother." … "She's always loved Marilyn," Dina said. "For Christmas, my girlfriends even gave her a Marilyn cookie jar. I think there's a sadness that Lindsay feels for Marilyn. Lindsay really saw it as a gift back to someone."

Make no mistake, it is a gift back to someone – it just happens that that someone is probably a teenage boy with a permanent erection who'd wank himself into a jizz blizzard at the sight of an old lady's bra, let alone some 'artful' naked Lindsay Lohan photos.

Anyway, let's not forget that Dina Lohan is the quintessential pushy stage mum who notoriously lives her life vicariously through Lindsay in the hope that she can piggyback on her fame for long enough to get her own daytime TV show or something. Bearing this in mind, Dina Lohan isn't saying "I respect my daughter's decision," but "Seriously, if you think she looks good naked, wait until you see my middle-aged boom-baps! Pazow!" 

And that's disgusting, so let's have no more to do with any of this.

Read more:

Lindsay’s mom OK with nude photo shoot - MSNBC