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.

This week has seen some of our most preposterous correspondence to date. Even long-forgotten artists of yesteryear are getting a mention from the lobotomised dingbats that frequently troll their way through the site. What, you don’t believe me?

How about Justine Clark who got in touch to, and I’m not making this up, offer an opinion on Daniel Bedingfield, the artistic equivalent of a beige dining room:

You talk absolute crap re: Daniel Bedingfield in my opinion. His CD Gotta Get Thru This is totally amazing as far as I’m concerned. This is why art is so wonderful and the media is so crucifying. You annoy me immensly and if only you were that spider you so lovingly spoke about.

Art is wonderful, of course. Daniel Bedingfield’s artistic craft and vision is outmatched only by his sister, Thingy Bedingfield. Of course, it’s not just music that’s an art form.

Some people believe television is art, a sensory waltz for the pleasure of your eyes. That’s probably why people react so well to the colourful dribblings of the Tellytubbies or their grown-up version, Noel Fielding’s Luxury Comedy:

I can see why some people really wouldn’t enjoy this show. But personally, I thought it was brilliant. Haha. I adore Noel Fielding and his work, I always have. But what saddens me is that this show has been getting so many negative reviews.
What people need to really understand is that this show is NOT The Mighty Boosh. It never will be. Julian Barratt DOESN’T need to be in this show, because that would basically make it The Mighty Boosh.
Noel can be independent. Let him. Give the show a chance, guys. You’ve only seen one episode. Noel worked quite hard on it.

There we go folks. Artistic vision is not based on the worth or the quality of the finished piece, it’s based on how hard you work. We should have given Luxury Comedy more of a chance, of course. It was wrong of us to judge it on the strength of just one episode and we realise now that next week’s instalment of Carpet Badger’s Woodland Rainbow Experience will likely be one that pushes it into an entirely new realm of comedic existence.

Or it will continue to be pervasively shite for the rest of its run.

On the bright side at least, he’s not Brad Pitt who, according to this five year old article has a tiny penis. Mind you, that’s according to Juliette Lewis who doesn’t seem to have brilliant depth perception. Luckily, Brad has the world’s slowest rapid-response unit to stick up for his pecker.

A woman is more than acunt and a man is more thanacock. This is a very small woman with a need to talk down to a man she hates to admire. Bradly Pitt is a very BIG man where it counts most to be big. He has a big heart, a big bank account and lots of kids with very BIG love for their dad. Also, Brad’s wife respects him which places them both as close to Hollywoody as the planet Mars. Its a real tribute for them to come off as martians in Hollywood where no human thing lasts for long no matter what its size. And another thing about size… In Hollywood the size of a THING is closest to the hearts of men, only a man who loves women would care less about who is unimpressed with the size ofhisSHOE. Pisson HayawathaKuntababe who coulda shoulda woulda but wasn’t anything at all.

Decipher the nonsensical crap and that’s quite a pleasant comment. Men and women shouldn’t be judged on things that they can’t help. Although, not everyone shares the same opinion of people. Remember homophobic git-drip Diane Richardson from last week’s Readers’ Letters? Well, this week she’s back with one of the most sexually menacing comments we’ve ever had:

I am not a moron, i can lay on my bed and put a 14? dildo into my anus until its disappeared and you wont even see a flinch in my eye, can either of you to dipshits do that, the answer is NO !!
What planet are you guys living on, everyone knows that the deeper you can put something into your ass, the smarter you are, so you had better straighten up because i am obviously far superior to either of you.
As for you JOANNA, you probably couldnt even get your pinkie finger in your ass, thats how dumb you are…………Retard !!

Make sure you don’t puncture any vital organs while you’re doing that, Diane. Of course, the insertion of floppy, phallic objects into oneself is high on the agenda of one Paris Jackson, daughter of Michael. She’s pre-destined to have really kinky, unprotected sex with Justin Bieber, according to God. Naturally, the whine of pernicious cunts that call themselves Michael Jackson fans are furious about this biblical necessity:

Whoever wrote this article is a fucking dickhead! You have no respect for anyone whatsoever. Maybe your just jealous coz no one gives you the sex-eye you fuckwit. Excuse my language but you deserve it doochebag. RIP MJ. We love you man. I wish Paris the best in life. Not so much of a fan of Beiber but..whatever.

We also wish Paris the best in life. Perhaps she’ll have a child out of wedlock with young Bieber and it can grow up to be the second coming of Christ, given the religious following that both precocious brats have. Still, at least that was polite compared to DharmaRepublic’s effort, who decided to call us Nazis:

THIS IS MEANT TO A WEBSITE?..news?..entertainment??..or is it the Nazi guide to news….from a Christian perspective?

lol..

GROWN UP GOSSIP…lmAOooOOoo,….hahah

some people REALLY DO DELUDE THEMSELVES DONT THEY….like the creators of such errr…..Site .

This is definitely a website. The fact that it can be read on the internet should be the first clue. Of course, the Nazi guide to news wouldn’t have a Christian perspective, as such but given that DharmaRepublic laughs at their own “jokes” using the term “lmAOooOOoo”, it’s hardly surprising to see them not understanding that.

On the bright side, at least they’re not threatening us with physical violence. Unlike the inimitable Stefani, who was so upset about the Michael Jackson Glee episode that she threatened us with actual bodily harm.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS FUCK ARTICLE ABOUT? STUPID ASSFUCKER IMMA KILL AND SMASH YO ASS AND EAT IT!

Given that the charming Stefani seems to believe that ‘assfucker’ is a biting insult, we’re surprised to see that she would be absolutely fine with eating the anus of our writer. Then again, Michael Jackson fans will do anything to imitate their spiritual leader Uri Geller.

That’s it for this week, folks. We hope you’ve enjoyed this sickening display of fatuousness and we’ll leave you with this:

I think this is a real great blog. Keep writing.

Just kidding, we’ll actually leave you with this:

Fuck you – you little tick terd. You’re a shithead like your buddy Stuart.

‘Til next week, you piss-stains.

Apart from the myriad of famous people, the insane volumes of high quality Class A drugs, the alcoholism, casting couches, gangster dollars, movie productions and deviant sexual tastes, Hollywood is a bit of a snoozefest isn’t it?

NOT NOW!

See, there’s a massive investigation under way in LA after two dogs found a human head in a plastic bag next to the Hollywood sign! And of course, because only celebrities live in Hollywood, everyone who has ever been in a film is now very much a suspect!

The Police (no, not Sting’s group) said two dog walkers with about nine dogs (only in Hollywood, arf!) came across the bag on a trail near the Hollywood sign in the Hollywood Hills yesterday.

Sergeant Mitzi Fierro told KCAL-TV that two dogs began playing with the bag. Then, brilliantly, an object fell out and the dog walkers realised it was a severed head!

Dogs eh? Always messing around with decapitated heads!

Sgt Fierro, who really does have a wonderful, wonderful name, said the bag was visible from the trail and it did not appear to have been in the area for very long. Of course, coroners will attempt to identify the victim through dental records and detectives are expected to search the area today.

Meanwhile, someone else will be hastily battering out a script based on the Head In A Bag and firing out to everyone in Hollywood in the hope that it will become a quality daytime straight-to-TV movie where everyone in the entertainment industry is a suspect!

Of course, anyone who doesn’t put an option on it is obviously guilty as hell! This is a sure-fire winner! Happy pitching writers!

Hello soap fans!! Missed us? No, we didn’t give you a second thought either but now that we’ve just about recovered from Pat’s quick, yet annoyingly drawn out death, we’re back to spoil everything for you and tell you what’s going to happen this week. But first here’s a little catch up.

Did we mention that Pat was dead? Well she is. Her last moments were spent in bed with a soaking wet Michael French shouting “MUM!” 2cm from her face, weighed down by monstrous earrings, desperately clinging to a script that would never end while the country secretly wished that David Essex would appear from the wardrobe singing ‘Oh What a Circus.’

Sadly, not even fake son number 2 Nick Berry could be bothered to turn in the Vic and play ‘Every Loser Wins’ on the piano so off she popped and now we all have the funeral to look forward to (40 sodding minutes of funeral time on Friday viewers. You have been warned.)

Up to speed then? Good.

This week on Albert Square, David and Carol decide that they still love each other, much to the dismay of her evil brother Derek who is quite frankly the best villain to grace the Square since that dastardly Wilmot Brown fella in 1872.

He tells David that he’s still going to continue being a rotter regardless and David enlists the help of Michael ‘sometimes my smile is quite alarming’ Moon to get rid of Derek. However after a bungled stitch up, David decides to run away and asks Carol to go with him. But will she go? WE DON’T CARE.

Meanwhile Janine saves the day when she agrees to pay for Pat’s funeral, buy Pat’s house so that the most annoying family on television can rent it from her and even says something heartfelt at Pat’s funeral. We don’t like helpful Janine and we hope she gives birth to a demon who will raise Frank Butcher from the dead and slap some sense into her.

Lucy comes back for Pat’s funeral this week with a completely new face and no-one seems to notice.  She then demands to know who Mandy is, decides she doesn’t like her and plots to get rid of her. We doubt it’ll be a LETS SET FIRE TO EVERYONE! storyline like Yusef had but we hope it involves some sort of murderous rage.

Lauren gets dumped by Tyler as he really loves astoundingly thick Whitney. She get pissed and threatens to jump out of her bedroom window but her fringe blocks her view and her parents realise it’s time to take action but probably won’t as good parenting is forbidden on Eastenders.

When Morgan questions his skin colour and asks who his father is,  Bianca tells him it’s Barack Obama and someone on the script-writing team gets fired.  Whitney then plays detective and tracks down Morgan’s father Ray who doesn’t know he has a son and a new, recurring character klaxon sounds somewhere in the distance.

Elsewhere, Bianca tells Ricky it’s over for the millionth time, Tiffany is terrified that Pat is haunting the Butcher house (we hope this is true) and Pat’s coffin gets dragged outside to the tune of ‘Sweet Caroline’ which is just plain weird.

Oh, and the other soaps just don’t matter. Apart from Brendan Brady in Hollyoaks who is the best thing the world has ever seen.

Hey! The Devil seems okay doesn’t he? Sure, some of his followers are a bit mental and go around killing people in his name and indulge in strange practises while praising him… just like Roman Catholics without the whole ‘child buggering’ thing.

Anyway, Reese Witherspoon has signed on to star in Devil’s Knot. That’s a forthcoming drama about the funny feeling Satan gets in his stomach when he sees a girl he fancies.

Actually, it isn’t. It’s much darker than that. In fact, it’s about murder and the only thing more sickened and twisted than the goat boy himself… THE AMERICAN LEGAL SYSTEM.

That’s right!

It seems that our Reese hates those light-hearted films to pieces. On the back of doing Water for Elephants (starring human creosote, Robert Pattinson), romcom How Do You Know? and festive filum, Four Christmases, she’s decided to do something that… *gasp*may actually be interesting.

The film concerns the ‘West Memphis Three’ who were tried and convicted of the murders of three boys in Arkansas (pronounced ‘Ark And Sass’) in ’93.

If you remember (which you won’t because you’ve sniffed too many aerosols), it was a rather high profile trail which saw the prosecution pointing at some children and saying that they were killed as part of a satanic ritual.

Reese will play Pam Hobbs (Russell’s wife) who is the mother of one of the victims who initially believed the trio murdered her son before being persuaded that they are innocent and wrongly accused.

Nope. Us neither.

Distressingly, this story also features Eddie Vedder as he was championing a cause relating to this whole thing. We can’t be bothered to check, so we’ll just assume the bozo was campaigning for Satan.

Nice one.

Have you heard of Jamaican dancehall star Vybz Kartel? He’s our favourite. We love him the best. His music is the best we’ve ever heard. EVER. He’s a proper genius. Good looking too. Really handsome.

There’s something of Mozart about the way he makes his music. His mind is sharper than Isaac Newton’s and he’s probably does loads of charity work. God. He’s just so great. He’s probably the best person who ever walked the Earth.

Why are we being so nice? Probably because he’s allegedly escaped from prison after being denied bail, charged with two murders. No, YOU’RE NERVOUSLY LAUGHING.

Vybz Kartel (real name, Mr Amazing And Good Looking) had been in custody since October 1st after being charged with murder, conspiracy to commit murder and illegal possession of a firearm following the deaths of Clive ‘Lizard’ Williams in August and Gregory Park in July.

We don’t think he did it. We think he’s too good for that. Did we mention we really liked escaped murdering lunatic Vybz Kartel? We did? Good. Because we do. He’s properly amazing. Not in a gay way though. Unless he’s okay with the gays. We love him in whatever way he thinks is best.

Anyway, it’s been reported that Kartel escaped from Horizon Adult Remand Centre with seven other inmates after taking prison guards hostage at gunpoint.

Sadly, it appears that one of the prison officers died of a heart attack as a result of the escape with 12 others sustaining injuries.

Kartel and the other escapees are now apparently listed as ‘Jamaica’s most wanted criminals’, but we’ve got them all on the ‘They Really Are Very Cool Guys Who We Don’t Want Chasing After Us And Killing Us’ list.

It’s all much more interesting than reading about Adele’s routine throat operation isn’t it?

Over the last few years, stories regarding Michael Jackson have all focused on one specific issue. That’s right, his demise from this world and descent into a tacky gold coffin that’s buried deep underground so nutjob fans can’t rub their genitals across it.

More recent events have led to the climax of Jackson’s life where the whole world got to hear what drugs were given to him via ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray. Ever since the incident on the set of a Pepsi commercial where the former king of pop’s head resembled a stinky sparkler, Michael supposedly downed pills like Smarties.

We’d like to distance ourselves from the recent courtroom drama featuring the only decent member of The Jackson Five. Instead, we want to relive some of the more memorable moments from his lifetime when he was alive, full of life and generally not being beaten by Poppa Joe.

Now, we’ll get this out of the way now – towards the end of his adult life, there were a couple of incidents that everyone associated with Jacko. As a dedicated animal lover, he didn’t settle at having a budgie or a dog. Instead, Bubbles the monkey was his pet. Granted, there was always the risk of the creature ripping Jackson’s face off, but who cares? Do you know anyone else who owns a monkey? Actually, that might have been the reason for his wonky nose, damn that pesky monkey!

When people play word association with the words “children” and “Michael Jackson”, they automatically start thinking of evil thoughts designed to ruin the singer’s reputation. Remember everyone; he was acquitted twice of having sexy time with children, spiking them with wine and generally tucking them up in bed with a loving look in his milky eyes. So what are we going on about then? Well there was that time in Berlin where Michael proudly showed off his offspring. Most people would pass an infant round a room, but if you’ve got more money than sense, then dangling the tot of a hotel balcony is a much better option of showing your love for children.

Chances are that you’ve never met Michael Jackson and at best, have had to settle for his sister Janet. So how do we get an insight into how the singer acted and behaved when not plagued with dodgy allegations? Well a conveniently released book that’s out just in time for Christmas entitled “My Friend Michael” by close friend Frank Cascio might be able to help us. All sorts of fascinating aspects are revealed, such as a fun loving side to the star who:

“Giggled while throwing a bucket of water over unsuspecting dinner guests.”

Imagine that, you’re sitting down about to bite into a delicious piece of cow and then bloody Michael Jackson covers you in water, touches his crotch and then runs to his room to escape from the people he’s just narked off. But if you think that was abnormal behaviour, it gets slightly weirder. Cascio wrote

“Princess Diana was at the top of Jackson’s list of women he wanted to date, and that Jackson made out with one of his fan club members.”

We can only assume that Jackson had this crush on Princess Diana before her body was smashed to bits by her drunk driver/the paparazzi/MI5 in a Paris tunnel. Unless, of course, we never really discovered how sick and twisted he really was and he really had a love and fetish of dead princess corpses. We’ll never bloody know.

So is the book all happiness and rainbows? Sadly not as Frank Cascio seemingly wants to portray his former friend as a drug addict, seemingly without the help of ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray. More extracts from the book say:

“Jackson started one of his anniversary shows an hour late because the star was high on drugs. Particularly in late tours, when Michael was under great stress and needed help falling asleep.”

We await the mental Michael Jackson fans to start nitpicking the book to pieces like vultures and explaining how his former best friend is a total liar and has painted the wrong image.

Finding a man to play Michael Jackson in a biopic is no easy task. Listen, LaToya Jackson is surely not in the picture, despite being MJ’s reanimated corpse. Think about it. You need someone who vaguely looks like the former King of Pop.

Naturally, what with Michael going from handsome black man to Roswell white man, there’s not many people who are up to the task, unless someone creates some ET/human/chameleon hybrid.

However, seeing as a Michael Jackson biopic is in the pipeline, there’s actors being touted to guzzle Propofol like UHT milk. And oddly, most of them are white.

Weirdly enough, Johnny Depp has been made the favourite to play Jackson in a film that will be made by Ghostbusters producers Ivan Reitman and Tom Pollock. Let us hope that their ghost enthusiasm hasn’t waned and they include that amazing MJ seance held by Derek Acorah when he channelled Mike and said ‘Say hi to Quincy Jones for me.’

Anyway, bookmakers Paddy Power opened betting and Depp ran away with a hilarious lead with odds of 4/1 with other big white names like High School Musical’s Zac Effron getting odds at 9/2 and Justin Timberlake at 12/1.

Will Smith and Usher have also been mentioned too, but that kinda spoils our angle on the article.

Sharon McHugh, spokesperson for Paddy Power, said in a statement:

“It’s going to be one mammoth task trying to get someone good enough at acting and dancing to fill Michael Jackson’s moon-walking shoes but when it comes to the race we’re betting it don’t matter if he’s black or white!”

Jesus Christ. Anyway, one person who has been cruelly overlooked is the marvellously odd Eddie Murphy who is certainly not averse to playing different characters with different faces. Better yet, he’s got form when it comes to singing bad synth-soul!

Check this out. He could totally do a Jamie Foxx when he played Ray Charles and sing the OST!

And, even BETTER than that, Eddie Murphy has links to Michael Jackson. Yes, he appeared in one of MJ’s videos (Do You Remember The Time), but Jackson appeared on one of Eddie’s singles from ’93.

Yes he did. And boy howdy, you’ll laugh when you see this video. Eddie dressed up like he’s just been kicked out of the Blue Oyster club and Jackson looking as ghoulish as ever!

Enjoy this one and start putting your money on Eddie Murphy playing Jackson in his biopic. Oh, and Carlton from the Fresh Prince to play Sexy Conrad Murray, please.

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Deathbed for sale. What a peculiar notion. That said, it has a lovely ring to it. It almost sounds like an Agatha Christie thriller. Either way, Michael Jackson’s deathbed was up for auction so that his mental fans could buy it and have sex with themselves in it.

That’s because they’re hugely lonely and there’s no room for another face in the mirror because Mad Jackson fans are too enveloped by the aura of Jackson himself.

Anyway, the deathbed has been pulled from auction because some bright spark realised that it might be a little distasteful selling a giant bed filled with celebrity corpse goo. Shame. We hoped a mad-scientist would buy it and try cloning an army of Michael Jacksons.

Jackson’s estate stepped in and asked Julien’s Auctions to remove the item, which had a pre-sale start price of between $3,000 and $5,000.

That seems cheap, especially given that MJ would have almost certainly paid a ludicrous amount for it while he was alive (people saw him coming – we reckon he got overcharged for Snickers… “certainly sir, that will be $40,000“).

Hmm. Anyway, the queen-sized headboard was removed from the auction and sadly, it appears that the mattress was never an option because it was full of lovely,  stainy evidence from when Jackson got his Propofol milk and went and died under the sexy glare of Conrad Murray (now on suicide watch).

Still, there’s a number of items from Michael’s rented mansion still up for grabs! Like what? You can get yourself some paintings by Maurice Utrillo and Henri Rosseau, or if you’re a greedy bastard, there’s silverware to be had.

Or, for the macabre amongst you, there’s a kitchen chalkboard with a handwritten note which reads “I [heart] Daddy. SMILE, it’s for free,” written in childlike text – presumably by one of his grieving children.

If that all fills you with horror, you could do something completely normal and dress up as Michael Jackson for the rest of your life and sit in your room doing quiet impressions of the late singer while listening to his later work, trying to convince you its as good as the Thriller LP.

Which it isn’t you mental berks.

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Remember Michael Jackson’s amazing tribute event in Cardiff where people bought overpriced tickets to watch Alien Ant Farm, 3T, JLS and LaToya Jackson (aka Michael’s animated corpse) prance around on MJ’s grave?

Of course, most of the Jackson family thought the tribute was in terrible taste, what with it taking place in the middle of Conrad Murray’s trial.

The whole thing was beset with controversy, even to the point where absolutely insane Michael Jackson fans boycotted the whole thing, calling it a scam. Well, maybe those lunatics were onto something because Global Events – the people who put the show on – have now gone into administration leaving everyone who worked on the show unpaid for their work. HURRAY FOR MICHAEL JACKSON’S LEGACY!

The news, reported by Stereoboard (in a less funny way than us) if anyone wants to sue anyone over defamation of character, broke after some of the people who worked on the show went mental on twitter, using the hashtags #unpaidMJTalentTeam and #HELPGETMEPAID.

Sadly, everyone was too busy making jokes about #xfactor to give the vaguest of shits.

Anyway, this looks like a case of a bunch of lighting crew and roadies not getting paid, right? WRONG. The artists haven’t got paid either. Of course, the backstage crew should get paid first because they need the money more and, secondly, the artists should’ve done the whole thing for free if they loved Michael Jackson as much as they say they did.

Of course, now they’ve not been paid, you just watch all the pop stars saying “Oh, we were totally going to give our fee to a charity like Michael would’ve wanted.” You just watch.

A twitter user named Dom Pisani has been tweeting and writing about the whole thing, shouting:

“Not impressed that Global Live Events have gone bust leaving all who work tirelessly on the MJ Tribute concert unpaid!! #unpaidMJTalentTeam.”

They followed this up with:

“Still no payment from Michael Jackson Tribute Concert, apparently even artists are missing money. Doesnt look promising.”

“@Ivy_MJJC @misschiviouss @loakim45 #unpaidMJTalentTeam Keep tweetin guys, we need ppl to notice. Noones paid, guess that means charities too. wud really appreciate you posting it guys, they can’t be allowed to get away with it.”

Another user, Aaron Mavinga, wrote:

“HELP! I worked on the #MJtributeCONCERT last month and Global LIVe Events gone bust. PLEASE RT message #HELPGETMEPAID #unpaidMJTalentTeam.”

Ester GillT-Pleasure Gill (what an idiot name) said on the M4Tribute official Facebook page:

“It’s disgusting that not one person who worked on the concert got paid! A total scam and a real shame to end on! I worked hard on this show and then got told the promoter had not paid any bills at all and went bankrupt over night. What a Scam!! The Promoter should be ashamed of himself for ripping off hard working crew!”

No official word from Global Events as yet, and indeed, there’s nothing to say that these people aren’t lying (we have to say that legally), but y’know, with this being a gossip-based site, we have to report these things between the reviews and photos of boobs.

Looks like, even in death, Michael Jackson can’t catch a break with decent people to work with. Just think about the last person he hired.

Exactly.

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It’s spoiler time again people, which will either ruin your week and send you into a murderous rage or you’ll thank us very sweetly like the hideous Munchkins that you are. Either is fine with us.

This week, there’s so much going on in Eastenders that we’ve decided to say “BALLS!” to the other soaps and shower you with events from the very real and not at all fictional Albert Square.

And no, you’re not allowed to complain. YOU ARE FORBIDDEN.

It seems like Amira still hasn’t accepted the fact that Syed likes boys. You know, men… the same sex.  Oh for the love of god, HE LIKES COCK AMIRA, get this into your thick head.  She enlists the help of Yusef, who delighted that his rather dull character hasn’t been killed off yet, and who promises to help her win back Syed if she helps him win back Zainab. Give it a rest.

He almost wets his pants with excitement when Ben tells him that Christian touched him ‘inappropriately’ while they watched a DVD together and decides to tell Zainab that Christian has been molesting Ben for weeks behind Syed’s back. Of course this isn’t remotely true, except for the part where Ben and Christian did watch a DVD together and Ben decided that kissing Christian would be the best idea that anyone has ever had. EVER.

It wasn’t.

We’re also slightly confused as to why Yusef’s idea of wooing Zainab is to tell her tales of molested teenagers in order to win her trust but quite frankly, we don’t care that much either.

Phil finds out about the dreadful rumour and decides to batter Christian with a baseball bat and only then does Ben decided to admit he’s a lying toad but it’s too late; Christian packs his bags, Yusef violently pushes Zainab up against a mirror and there’s even a deceased turkey with a bullet in it which breaks Janine’s tooth. LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE BEN, YOU LITTLE SHIT!

Elsewhere, Ian and Mandy are still trying to convince everyone that the quickest and most unbelievable engagement in the history of Eastenders, is something other than tedious. Mandy is furious when she finds out the real cost of her engagement ring and is so upset by this fact and that she let Ian Beale put his thing near her, she sends Bobby into the street to play and he vanishes. Don’t fret though, he does return, accompanied by the brilliant Jane! Remember Jane? The one who left after she had that non sexual fling with Masood behind Ian’s back and wanted to bring up Lucy’s child and oh, it doesn’t really matter does it?

Masood is happy to see her, but then he isn’t. BUT THEN HE IS and it goes on like this for a while until Jane decides she’ll hang around for a while and laugh at Ian’s mid life crisis and pretend to be from That London.

Finally, everyone is now aware that Pat Butcher is finally hanging up her earrings and leaving Eastenders for good. Those of you who didn’t know are no doubt cheering loudly. It’s fine. We’ll wait.

What you didn’t know is that she doesn’t burn to death in some totally expected house fire, oh no, she gets an even better exit, by upstaging Tanya and finding out she’s also got cancer which will kill her immediately. Well after she’s dragged it out a bit and given everyone some nonsense words of wisdom and  licked that poster of Frank one last time. Then she’s definitely dying and never ever coming back ever again.

So it’s not all bad news then.

Until next week …

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Ever looked at David Gest and wondered if he keeps his face in position with a large bulldog clip like Kent Brockman from The Simpsons? If so, when he takes it off, does his head look like a hot scrotum?

Either way, Gest seems like a decent enough bloke for someone who has been ravaged by the entertainment industry and mental enough to marry Liza Minnelli while she was in her Aged Alcoholic role (according to Gest himself at least).

And now that the reality TV shows have dried up, Gest thought it would be a good idea to make a film about Michael Jackson, a man who shared the same plastic surgeon with David… which explains why they both look so very, very odd.

Apparently, the new film about Michael – which has made its premiere in London – will “set the story straight” about the pop cadaver.

At the showing, unsurprisingly, loads of insane Michael Jackson fans stopped Moonwalking For Justice from the Conrad ‘Sexy’ Murray trial, to show up in fancy dress. Honestly. What is it with Jacko fans wanting to dress up like him all the time?

Half the time, these kids just look like Roswell aliens in half mast trousers. Put them all together, and their “HEE!” and groin grabs makes you think you’re stuck in a chimp enclosure.

ANYWAY.

Gest said of the film Michael Jackson: The Life of an Icon:

“I woke up one morning and said I’m going to make a movie about Michael’s life because I was tired of reading all this crap about him, all these tales that were so fictitious, and I thought let’s set the story straight but let’s give the people a movie that says something new. Not the same rehash, the same moves and that’s what I did.”

Sycophantic garbage then?

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It’s time to visit Soapland again as we know this is the only thing that makes your miserable existence bearable. We even caught Matthew Laidlow trying to bribe fellow writer Joanna Bolouri with cake and even violence in the hope she’d reveal the whereabouts of David Essex since his departure.

He’s still recovering in hospital as she takes Soaps even more seriously that you losers do.

First up it’s Eastenders where it’s Yasmin’s first birthday party and as Christian has never missed a party in his life, he buys her a card and teddy, hoping to get an invite. Realising that Christian is only using her daughter’s party as an excuse to get on the good foot, Amira tells Syed he’s not welcome and Syed secretly puts his plans to backflip naked onto Christian on hold.

Amira’s father Qadim arrives at the party, demanding she leave this soap immediately but as Amira still has weeks left to bore everyone with her baby, she refuses.

Emotionless Yusef  gets the fake DNA test results back and hands them over to Christian who then confronts Amira with the news that Syed isn’t Yasmin’s father. No-one bothers to notice that the DNA came from a Chinese woman Yusef once treated in his surgery for heartburn.

When Masood pops his head round the door and tells everyone that Yusef probably falsified the tests, Yusef stares blankly and tells Zainab that the NHS provided the results and therefore he is really a nice man who’s only marginally interested in destroying everyone who’s ever been born.  Zainab believes him until drag queen granny Rose tells her that the NHS don’t provide DNA tests and Yusef is forced to admit that  he’s a ball bag.

Elsewhere on the Square, Poppy and Jodie have moved in with those Moon brothers and everyone immediately shouts ‘SHAG FEST!!!” Tyler also gets this idea into his head and convinces Anthony that the girls want to have a threesome, despite the fact even Wham loving Heather would be dirtier in the sack than those two combined. Finished picturing that? You’re welcome.

Needless to say he soon finds out that they are less than impressed by the suggestion so they all laugh it off and then the girls decide they both quite fancy Anthony so, IT COULD STILL HAPPEN IF ENOUGH BOOZE IS INVOLVED.  We hope the Eastenders writers are as sexually repressed as we are.

‘Fiwl’ Mitchell returns with amnesia and suggests that Ben dates Lola and Ben stops imagining Christian’s undercarriage for a second and moans that his Dad doesn’t  love him.  He then agrees to babysit Amy while Roxy goes out and gets hammered, before deciding it would be more fun to leave toddler Amy alone in the house while he pretends to be straight with Jay.

Amy’s decision to lie face down in some bath water causes everyone to panic and take her to hospital where Jack finds out that Amy has an unexplained fracture. A  perpetually hungover Roxy arrives at the hospital to be told that either Jack gets custody of Amy or Amy goes into care and Roxy will be taken to court. Oh look. Another storyline about parental struggle with an inevitable custody battle. Great.  Where the hell is that threesome?

Finally, Tanya’s text buddy Siobhan dies and Tanya has a panic attack.

Grim.

Next we  arrive in Coronation Street where Fiz hopes that John’s confession will stop her going back to prison but will it? We don’t know and we couldn’t find anyone else who’s be bothered to find out either.

Carla is still a wreck and after telling the factory girls that they’ll get paid after they finish sewing some knickers, she just snaps and fires them. Then Frank decides to offer them all jobs and an unhinged Carla calls him a rapist and tells the women they can have their jobs back. We’re as confused as they are.

It’s Sophie’s birthday this week but as usual all the attention is focused on Rosie when the Gazette article is published and contains gossip about the family along with some tasteless photos. This makes us happy.

Elsewhere, Michelle’s parents take the news that she’s getting married on the beach badly as no-one wants to fall over and get  sand up their bumhole after 17 Mojitos.

Until next week…

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This week we’re dedicating the entire spoilers section to Eastenders! Why? We have no idea but there’s so much going on we literally wet our pants writing this.

First up on Albert Square, the next story line destined to drag out for at least 17 years continues with Amira using her daughter Yasmin to manipulate ex husband Syed for reasons still unknown to everyone, even the writers.

Ben spots them playing happy families in the park and tells Christian who takes off his white vest and thinks Ben is a specky liar but doesn’t tell him that because he’s too busy frowning and flexing in his direction. A sexually frustrated  Ben then asks hecklerspray writer Joanna Bolouri to help him out by opening a cafe, where Syed and Amira will rendezvous, allowing Christian to catch them at it.  Hoping this will speed up this stupid plot, she readily agrees.

When Roxy finds out about Syed and Amira she marches Christian to Joanna’s cafe and as if by magic he catches Syed and Amira together. Everyone argues, shouts and kick each other under the table, except baby Yasmin who’s the only grown up in this whole sorry mess.

Zainab returns from Pakistan to discover she’s a granny, much to Yusef’s dismay as he’s still hoping to kill her with sleeping pills and pointy faced glaring but now some dastardly child is going to ruin his plans, so he decides to tell Christian that Yasmin may not be Syed’s daughter. Noticing that the baby has not yet launched herself from her buggy and backflipped across Albert Square, Christian thinks this may be true and gives Yusef one of Syed’s hairs to do a DNA test.

Sigh.

Elsewhere, Lauren has started pinning her fringe back which is a huge, HUGE mistake as she now can’t use the ‘my hair was in my eyes’ excuse for sleeping with Tyler but more importantly, we can’t make fun of it. Whitney finds out and goes mental at Tyler, who reminds her that she’s with the world’s worst DJ, Fatboy now and we’re reminded that this is the most pitiful romance in history.

Lola makes a joke about Ben being gay and Ben is so shocked by this completely true allegation, he decides he’ll sleep with her to shut her up.  Afterwards Ben realises that he hates vaginas even more than ever and tells Lola that he’s definitely gay which is just what any girl wants to hear after sex.

The brilliant Janine is a year older than she was last year and decides she’ll have something called a birthday but no-one cares. She stomps around all day,  kicking stray dogs and plotting everyone’s demise but then Michael, knowing that even evil girls like twinkly fairy lights, saves the day by throwing a surprise birthday dinner, complete with lights, champagne and self esteem destroying sex for desert and making that smiley face that terrifies everyone to their very soul.

Norman convinces Pat to sign over her house to him, to raise some cash to help Nick Berry in New Zealand and then moves in with her and her massive earring collection.

This week however, there is a scene that make make viewers feel utterly distressed and we hope that the BBC gives out one of their helpline numbers at the end of the episode. Something so traumatic we feel it’s only fair to put it in capitals to make sure you understand how grim it is.  This week, you will witness PAT BUTCHER AND THAT NORMAN FELLA KISSING WITH THEIR DUSTY OLD MOUTHS!

We’d advise you not to look directly at it. We did and the hecklerspray bedsit resembled the end scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Harrowing.

Until next week losers!

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Towards the end of his dog-eared career, Michael Jackson began to resemble an eerie looking clown who’s wax face was tarnishing in a mild midday heat. See, we can say that because that’s our opinion. But if you go to a concert by not-so-important Jackson sibling Janet, that right will be taken from you.

Due to popular media such as Twitter and Facebook, a group of Pete Doherty poetry loving twerps can use the power of the internet to raise their voice and stick it to the man. Yer! Peace for all and freedom for those in Tibet – all planned over a sweatshop produced laptop whilst sipping on a Grande Latte with cinnamon swirls, lemon shots and organic camel milk.

But if you dare comment on Michael Jackson having a wonky nose at a Janet Jackson gig you may face the wrath of Joe Jackson who’ll chase you with his famous beating belt. Or as he called it, the “dancing encourager.” But why would Janet Jackson stop us from voicing our opinion? Surely it has nothing to do with the ongoing trial of ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray? Oh.

Janet Jackson wasn’t part of the recent tribute show in Cardiff where the line up was effectively a pick of the best from X-Factor – if you can call them that. Who wouldn’t want to shell out a load of cash to see JLS, Alexandra Burke and the one that covered a Snow Patrol song? You know, she looks like a horse. Gutted you missed out? Who wouldn’t be, as La Toya Jackson came out of retirement to sing songs that nobody knows!

But why didn’t Janet perform? Did she feel threatened about being outperformed by Craig David or the show’s emotionless presenter Fearne Cotton? Don’t be daft, Janet has how own career as well (supposedly). And she’s touring! Whoop-de-doo!

Amazingly, it isn’t billed under the title “Janet Jackson: Not As Good As My Brother Michael Tour,” but the flashier sounding “Number Ones, Up Close And Personal.” Somebody call Anne Robinson over at Watchdog, we can’t think of a single number one that Janet has had. That’s about as believable as the time Michael said he wasn’t addicted to painkillers.

Now, we’re a little confused; how would security monitor gig goers? In theory it mightn’t be overly difficult on the face of it as we all know that roughly eight people turn up to an average Janet Jackson gig. After some vague research, it appears that Janet is referring to a support act comedian who’s touring with her. Strict stipulations of the concerts state that:

“The comedian will not make any reference to Janet Jackson or the Jackson family; although that means that any comedian sharing the stage with the singer will also be gagged against any gags aimed at Tito, Jermaine et al, it’s clear that in the current climate it’s her late brother’s name that Janet is keen to spare. Janet is currently playing in Australia where she’ll remain until mid-November when switching to South Africa.”

Aren’t there only three cities in Australia? Because the country is more of a giant land mass containing only rocks, sand and dingo’s eating the natives children, more time will be spent travelling for Janet and her entourage than performing.

But hey, now that the freedom of speech issue has been cleared up, you’re now free to attend a Janet Jackson gig and discuss your own opinions as loudly as you want. Was Michael really a man who liked to slip children the odd glass of Jesus Juice to ease them into one of his super duper special hugs?

Or did he attempt to peel back Bubble’s foreskin to see his special monkey banana? Neither of them are with us now, so we’ll never know.

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Despite spending most of the week choosing fancy pants to wear to the Cosmo Blog Awards, fighting over who gets to shave that evening with the communal razor and  getting really, really drunk with happiness, we’ve still had time to hold Soap writers hostage in our bedsit and demand they tell us what’s happening in Soapsville this week or we’d show them Matthew Laidlow’s bed sheets.

They quickly told us everything.

EVERYTHING.

Eastenders first this week where Amira realises that she’ll be able to drag out her storyline for at least a month if she keeps refusing to let Syed have contact with Yasmin, so she holds up the baby like a newborn Simba in front of Syed every so often, manically singing ‘The Cirrccrcle of Liiiiife‘  before putting Yasmin back  in her handbag, next to her perfumed mace she’s prepared for Christian.

Syed, unaware the the Eastenders writers have already written him twice a week contact with his daughter, reasonable child support payments and a short break at Butlins, starts sneaking around to try and get some time with Yasmin, even lying to his very, very buff boyfriend which we find utterly loathsome and ridiculous.

Elsewhere, in a planet called ‘Notverybloodylikelyisit?‘, Ian Beale proposes to stripper Mandy Salter after she wrecks the car he’d rented to try and impress her.  Really? Will she say yes or will she just climb on her pole and spin round at such an alarming rate causing time and space fold in on itself,  taking us back to 1993 when she was loved up with Sean Maguire and taking enough drugs to knock over a horse.

That was at least believable.

It’s good news for Fatboy when he finally gets to sniff Whitney up close as the pair decide they’d make a really brilliant couple. We predict a domestic violence storyline when Whitney remembers that time Fatboy tried to sing in church and attempts to strangle him with her scrunchie.

Finally, Pat gets some bad news from Simon in New Zealand, probably telling her that she’s about to be killed off and grabs her chest in a non sexual way in front of Norman. OH JUST DIE WILL YOU???

Next, it’s time for Coronation Street where Frank leaves Carla no choice but to sack some of the useless and/or overweight members of staff when he takes half her stock and sewing machines.  Yeah, we couldn’t believe it either. Sally is one of the first to go and complains for about 3 seconds before Frank offers her the job of sewing machine supervisor and she shuts up.

She also tells estranged husband Kevin that he’s no longer welcome in the house and the words ‘life imitating art’ are mumbled all over the country by people who consider Coronation Street to be ‘art’ instead of ‘horrific’.

Rosie decides that she’ll split up Sally and Jeff by coming on to him and it works when Sally finds them in a compromising  position, but Sophie grasses her up and her mum is shocked.  Then she remembers she’s the evil leader of sewing machines and doesn’t care anymore.

We’d forgotten about Fiz but apparently she’s still in prison for being ginger and finally, Eileen lies under Paul for several minutes and then tells Paul’s wife Lesley about their uninteresting and unlikely liaison.  However, Lesley seems confused rather than angry and we can totally understand this reaction.

Finally we dig out the baby oil and glance seductively at Hollyoaks, where Riley is marrying his Mercedes, blissfully unaware that his car is cheating on him with Carl and is pregnant. Amy wants to take the kids to New York with her and Lee but Ste is having none of it – “NO!” he says.

But then he changes his mind –  ”OK!” he says.

Hard hitting.

We can also reveal that Ash has some sexy time with someone very unlikely, but we’d already slid off the couch before we found out who it was.

Sorry.

You’re welcome!! Now beat it.

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