Okay. Hands up. Who’s missed Cheryl Cole? Hello? Did you hear us? Why can we hear tendons snapping? Well – erm – YOU’RE IN LUCK!
For that X Factor Expert and all round amazing woman what is good at chatting to people on strange curved sofas that don’t exist anywhere except post-watershed Channel 4 programmes has ‘reportedly’ (and Jesus Christ, we use that term lightly, this story was pulled from Star Magazine, where half the office are frequented by Nick Hardman’s idea of what women look like, and the rest: Frogs) agreed to be the face of a new late night chat show, like that time they did it with Charlotte Church, as part of the What To Do With Down to Earth Welsh People Scheme of 2006.
Anyway, the consensus seems to be it’s going to be a show kind of on the same lines.
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Apparently, ITV’s surprise smash hit The Only Way is Essex is coming back for a third series on Monday and, in a desperate attempt to remind us why we gave a crap in the first place, they’ve been carting the stars out in front of the press. The excitement is almost too much for us to take.
Oh, look at that. We pulled through.
Of course, one star in need of a pay-cheque from the tat-peddling celeb factory that is TOWIE is Jessica Wright. Speaking to some awful red-top tabloid, the quintessential Essex stereotype told the braying masses what they can expect of her and it appears there might be a few changes.
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Have you ever looked at Simon Cowell and thought to yourself; ‘I’d like to get a load of plastic explosives and blow him and his botoxed face off the face of the Earth, just for giggles’?
Well, that’s exactly what Cheryl Cole did yesterday. Remarkably, she did it with the help of the British Army.
We don’t remember seeing Simon Cowell’s face on the infamous War On Terror playing cards though. Paula Abdul, yes, but no Cowell.
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Everything changes and develops into condensed shiny version. Even social networking has evolved. In the beginning we had MySpace, a tool where any idiot could upload appalling songs in the vain hope of being snapped up by a label. Facebook pinched the audience of MySpace, simplifying the clumsiness of its predecessor before Twitter cut out the marketing spam and made everything feel more communal.
Twitter allows the entire world to know what you’re doing in a continual burst of status updates. Refreshing as it is to know your mate is suffering from chronic diarrhoea, it’s the celebrities who are best value as sometimes, they totally fail to self-edit.
We think of it as friendly stalking from afar, eliminating the chances of you being caught furiously masturbating outside your favourite slebs house. And now, poor Cheryl Cole who has been out the spotlight for a while, has signed up to twitter which means we can find out exactly what she’s thinking (follow her here).
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You may remember a few months ago (and if you don’t remember, you’re a liar, because we ALL remember. We just don’t talk about it anymore) someone, somewhere on the horizon of logic sacked Cheryl Cole upon realising she is an entirely pointless human woman.
Yeah, you remember. It was brilliant.
After years being mollycoddled (and there really is no other word for it, that bitch got mollycoddled good) by Simon Cowell after a number of years of voluntary blindness, a promotion to LA fell flat on it’s arse, because some brave stallion of a man stood up in a board meeting and suddenly realised “Hang on a second. This woman’s dimples aren’t cute enough to warrant a legitimate and vibrant media career at all! We’ve all been duped!’ and Cheryl Cole, alas, alas, hung up her stupid purple stupid trousers which were stupid, and headed back to England, to do something or other.
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We haven’t seen much of Cheryl Cole since America decided that it really, really hated her voice. As such, Cole almost vanished from the planet, if you don’t count the endless speculative articles that surrounded her for months.
And we could well be seeing a lot less of her as she’s been granted an superinjunction (please note, it is more of an ‘injunction’, but ‘superinjunction’ is a buzz word used to describe pretty much anything these days) which means that anyone who takes her picture without permission could end up having their collar felt by the long, stinky arm of the law.
Basically, this court order has been issued against “XYZ and others”. This means that anyone who has photographed her ‘at her home and in the street during 2011′, will be breaking the law. That means you excitable Cheryl fans could get arrested for snapping her. So what can we all do to get around it? Photoshopping images is the key!
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We live in a world that is dominated by girl groups… and it really is fantastic. Rock is pretty much dead in the water, filled with bloated, self-worthy fellas with guitars peddling pedestrian, plodding pish. The girls meanwhile are making fun, Friday night records. Apart from Adele.
And now that Cheryl Cole has been ‘freed’ from the shackles of television and Simon Cowell, she’s now able to rejoin Girls Aloud to once more make quirky, witty pop. Which is a relief.
She’s looking forward to it too, saying that she’s “glad” not to be a part of The X Factor circus anymore. And with a GA comeback afoot, she can drum up some publicity by taking needless swipes at everyone. Aaaah, it feels good to write this hackneyed old crap again.
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One of the odd things that surrounds Cheryl Cole, is people’s propensity to note that she was working class. It is supposed to be a negative that she’s a chav who got lucky – like that’s a bad thing. It is unfortunate then, that she’s now indulging in a playgroup scrap with Simon Cowell, indeed reminiscent of a scally spitting at a dinner lady.
Apparently, the friendship they had is now over and dead. Which isn’t so good for her television career, which we know you all enjoyed.
So what’s the beef? Well, the Girls Alouder (do they still exist or are they simply in pop-limbo?) isn’t particularly chuffed that Cowell decided to talk to the press about her axe from X Factor USA, which saw the mogul saying that Chezza was ‘nervous’ and ‘uncomfortable’ on the show.
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