Well it’s been a high profile week for music what will all the sports happening and that. If you didn’t watch the kitten walk on the pitch in the football or MIA flip the proverbial bird in the Super Bowl then it really doesn’t matter because The Metro covers just about all of it in a much more elaborate and unnecessary way than the above sentence makes you think it might be worth.
The kitten doesn’t have a music video out, but we’re positive you can watch it singing on YouTube or, you can see it in your mind’s eye on ketamine; whatever takes your fancy really.
MIA on the other hand does have a video response out in antithesis to the popular Alexandra Burke song ‘Bad Boys’, which is nice for her. Shall we watch some new releases then?
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hecklerspray is massively gay. We’re so queer it hurts. Even the straight ‘spreezies are super ‘mo. You don’t care about that. You want to know whether Kelly Clarkson is a lesbian, for whatever nefarious reasons you have.
So is she?
Well, she doesn’t give the ‘bian ‘bian vibe to us. Not one bit. She couldn’t possibly smell of sex with another woman. Not that this has stopped people speculating that she is. And Kel’ wants to tell us all about it.
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Awards ceremonies are pointless, unless you win something at one of them. Then they’re the best thing ever for all of around 5 seconds (basically, ’til the free bar is closed). So should we get worked up about them?
OF COURSE WE SHOULD! These junkets are there to be mocked mercilessly. They are arbiters of taste and all that is deemed good, so everyone should gather round them and poke them with as many pointed sticks as they can get their awful, grubby little hands on.
So you’ll be thrilled to know that a bunch of musicians are going to hold a protest outside Sunday’s Grammy Awards ceremony over a decision to unceremoniously axe 31 ‘ethnic and minority musical categories’ from the bash.
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Worrying reports are beginning to reach the hecklerspray news desk of spontaneous combustion among children.
Reports so far are sketchy but it is thought that the exact demographic affected is girls & boys between the ages of 11 & 17. Parents are being advised to keep their children away from the internet for the foreseeable future to limit the risk of catastrophic explosion.
Experts have warning that if the spread of these fiery paroxysms isn’t stemmed immediately, it could lead to a cataclysmic chain reaction that could- if predictions are accurate- wipe out all human life on the planet, leaving Earth in the paws of Dormice.
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Y’know rich, successful, universally adored and fancied Gwen Stefani? She’s not happy with her life. See, despite the fact that, now she’s single, she could do as she damn well pleases with whoever she goddamn wants to, she’s not liking the fact she’s a woman.
Poor Gwen. With those lovely woman boobs and lack of disgusting man-penis.
When Stefani comes back in the next life – which won’t happen because reincarnation absolutely doesn’t exist – she would like to come back as a human man.
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Its a matter of weeks since Beyonce and Jay Z popped out a sprog in a hospital which they cordoned off all for themselves (probably leaving patients to die in the street or something), and they’re already out getting drunk like irresponsible thugs.
Seriously. Blue Ivy Carter’s head hasn’t even had the chance to form over the fontanelle yet, the poor neglected thing!
Yet still, this ghoulish pair don’t care one jot, going out and drinking shots and champagne without a care where their child is. Blue Ivy was probably locked in the car or something. It’s all so unspeakably awful that we’re crying here. CRYING.
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Poor famous people. They get plebs saying nasty things to them, which is of course, completely different to the lives of us normal troglodytes who spend an eternity being thoroughly pleasant to each other, without cross words ever uttered.
One such sad case is Kylie who has had to call the police because someone wrote some nasty words on twitter.
No, honestly.
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Lana Del Rey has had her whole adult life and creative outlets bankrolled by her insanely wealthy father and, at various points nearly gave it all up because she had to actually work a little to get anywhere. However, thickos on the internet came to the rescue and made her an overnight sensation!
Things were all going to (a carefully executed by a PR company) plan as she readied her new album! She was going to become a superstar! The golden goose had actually delivered!
The key cog would be a performance on Saturday Night Live! Lana would sing, everyone would swoon and rush out to buy her album, learn all the hackneyed lyrics and eagerly await the tour announcement. She opened her mouth to her largest audience yet and… oh dear… she ended up sounding like a cow in labour. The plan was ruined.
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