It is clear to anyone with eyes and a vague interest in the downfall of Justin Bieber, that he’s slowly turning into a superbrat, not to be trusted as far as he could be flung. He’s flipped the bird at paps and been icily cold in interviews.

And now, it looks like he’s breaking the heart of Selena Gomez, despite the fact his fans are all shouting ‘HE’S NOT LIKE THAT! JUSTIN WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT BECAUSE I KNOW HIM! AND I FEEL LIKE HE REALLY KNOWS ME TOO!’

Well Beliebers, looks like you didn’t know him at all because he’s been sending mucky text messages to another girl behind Selena’s back. The dirty rotten swine! Will he even autotune “you’re dumped, love” as well?

So, what are these text messages all about then?

Well, apparently, reports are suggesting that Justin was still really into the idea of feeling the bra-strap of his ‘Baby’ music video co-star Jasmine Villegas, despite the fact he’s already got a girlfriend called Selena Gomez.

Reports say:

“Selena was heartbroken. She confronted Justin, and at first he denied it but then came clean. She told him their romance was over, but she was willing to stay friends.”

That said, the more brilliant and spurious rumour is that Selena wants to try the whole ‘Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned Thing’, and is planning on a revenge mission by cheating on his with Glee star Cory Monteith!

Either way, the Beliebers can’t hear us because they’re all far too busy penning death threats in their own sickeningly untainted blood, scratching out warnings of physical violence against Gomez with their Bieber nail polished infant fingers into the walls of the world.

Fantastic.

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Action Man dicked amniotic super-foetus Justin Bieber may have to go to big man’s court after getting in hot water (presumably not tested with an adult elbow first) after someone claimed that he owes them money for his obviously dreadful track One Less Lonely Girl.

Sadly, it isn’t clear whether Bieber has formed a human brain capable of dealing with the notion of ‘money’ yet. It’s alleged that Bieber ate his first royalty check before sneezing a spaghetti hoop out of his nostril.

Anyway, the wonderfully monickered Vance Tate and Thomas Oliveria (also known as A-Nus A-Rex) are going after him with bits of paper with legal words written on and a promise to give him a Chinese Burn and take away his blankie.

The pair are reportedly claiming that the track which featured on Justin’s debut album was originally created by them for R&B singer Noel Gourdin in 2009.

However, the track appeared on Bieber’s LP and was credited as a collab between Usher, Shin, Hamilton and two others (or, as they’re known elsewhere, The Five Horsemen of the Apocalypse).

Who would have ever thought that the music industry was a puke-laden pit of vapid, dead-eyed, ruthless shills?

A-Rex now want 10% of the songs publishing royalties, which they estimate to be in the region of around $200,000.

Meanwhile, Justin’s representatives are preparing their case with the angle of “Look. You’re making baby cry. How could you?”

MTV is reporting that the pair are also seeking damages for breach of contract, fraud, conversion, and copyright infringement which isn’t even vaguely interesting.

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That’s probably a gross title about a 17-year-old’s masturbatory efforts – but like this whole yelling mean things at people on the Internet for a living thing, we’re running with it.

Justin Bieber has reportedly been telling people that he had some kind of affectionate, pandering, possibly homoerotic meeting with Robert Pattinson that only took place at a delay once Robert was done applying the delightful body shimmer sample handed to him by the lady at the make-up counter.

In what would have been the most random meeting ever, even with a fanbase the same age, Justin recalled meeting the Twilight actor and there was something in there about hair envy and wanting to be like the actor when he grew up.

From E! Online:

First things first, here’s what Bieber supposedly said. “One day Robert Pattinson came up to me at a party and said, ‘For whatever reason, people love our hair and it’s always a great ice-breaker with girls,’ ” Justin is quoted in The People. “He is like, ‘Hey my name’s Robert. Want to touch my hair?’ I thought he was joking, but it really works.”

There are so many off-colour jokes we could make about that partial quote alone, but there are only so many hours a day to write poorly-worded penis jokes, so we’re going to have to skip right over that and add… the meeting never happened.

But according to R.Pattz, he has never even met Justin! And he was totally weirded out when he heard J.B. claim he got flirting tips from the Twilight star himself. When asked about the comments, Rob countered on Friday: “I’ve never met this guy. I saw that as well. I was like, ‘You’re really famous, man—what are you doing? You don’t need to use me to make up stories!’”

The part about preening one’s self like a cross between a show pony and a contestant from Great British Hairdresser was kind of a giveaway. Yeah, totally never happened. It’s weird though. There are some horrifying dreams had by the writers of the hecklerspray hovel. But they’re usually about being chained to the radiator and fed only melted chocolate buttons… MELTED*!

So, yeah, that was  probably Justin’s last thought before a nocturnal emission that ruined perfectly good Spider-Man bedsheets.

*that was a cunning cry for help disguised as a jaunty anecdote about chocolately dreams. If you’re reading this, send help in the form of some more chocolate and someone to fix these clunking radiators that are keeping us up at night.

This was a guest post by Amy Grindhouse, who is currently chained to the sink in the bedsit bathroom. Send help.

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Canada’s shame – Justin Bieber – has spoken of his desire to play the part of Oliver Twist as they share a common heritage. In addition to this, they also share the common trait of being easily led into money that comes around all too easily as the result of singing a few dreary,  saccharine tunes that they didn’t actually write.

Young Justin Haircut’s dream to play the rags-to-riches runt can be traced back to being laughed out of Selena Gomez’s trailer after crawling towards her sighing “Please miss, I want some more.”

Unfortunately for Bieber, no-one on Earth can actually believe that he’s ever read the source material for Lionel Bart’s  “classic” Oliver! Sources close to the star who, like most newspapers, we’ve made up claim that Bieber refuses to go to sleep unless someone reads the novelisation of ‘She’s All That’ to him every night but nothing has been conclusively proven yet.

Libraries up and down Britain have reported that copies of the Dickens classic Oliver Twist which has been dramatised and adapted on numerous occasions have been seen trying to set themselves on fire in anticipation of another screen adaptation starring a doe-eyed, gooey idiot.

In an interview with The Sun, who appear to have a direct line to Bieber, probably through some kind of massive, novelty red phone, he said of his upbringing in a Canadian council flat:

“That place was really dirty. We had mousetraps everywhere because there were mouses – uh, mice – in the house.”

Yes. Justin Bieber thinks mice are called ‘mouses’. We almost did a whole article on that.

“I didn’t have a real bed. I slept on a blue pull-out couch in my room. We didn’t have anything in the fridge, except maybe luncheon meat for school and macaroni and cheese. I’d love to play Oliver Twist.”

Oliver Twist. An orphan who lived in a work house and ate gruel under the draconian “Poor Law” before running away and getting involved with a “lovable” gang of pick-pockets, a violent drunk and a paedophile. Yes, the similarities between the fictional Twist and the seemingly equally fictional Bieber are almost too obvious to be ignored.

Naturally, Oliver came good in the end as Bieber has, becoming a super-rich, in-demand popstar. Of course in the conclusion of Oliver Twist (not the musical) most of the people that had wronged him were either shown the error of their ways, hanged or maimed in preposterous circumstances. Perhaps Bieber and his army of Beliebers will be hoping that the same fate will befall the hecklerspray team.

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LET’S GET READY TO RHUMBLE! Supposedly hilarious Geordie duo Ant and Dec have put their fists where their mouths are and challenged the entire world to a fight.

After Ant (PJ) was attacked in a pub earlier this week for allegedly insulting the presenters of OK! TV for being “lobotomised scum-weasels”, Declan Donnelly (Duncan) has come out in support of his embattled friend with unusual vigour.

The BAFTA-winning ‘cheeky’ pair who are renowned for peddling inane, mawkish drivel to ITV’s dribbling weekend audience have seen their fair share of adversity since being plucked from the ganglands of Byker Grove in the early 1990s and have been implicated in multiple incidences of arms dealing and drug smuggling as well as extortion of charities.

Both keen amateur boxers, both Ant ‘n’ Dec soon became involved in a life of crime from their numerous clubs which they ran around London. Before long, they were involved in a vicious turf war with Mel Smith and Griff Rhys-Jones who ran a rival- but less successful- firm which was involved with money laundering throughout a number of West End theatres.

In a way, it is surprising that this is the first time that Anthony “The Ant” McPartlin has been attacked in public given the immense interest and rivalry felt in the entertainment industry in the UK. It is common knowledge that Robert Webb from That Mitchell & Webb Firm has placed a high price on the heads of McPartlin & Donnelly with a view to taking their places as the kings of Saturday night “entertainment”.

In an interview given to New! Magazine in a dingy boxing club in London’s East End, Donnelly was quoted as saying;

“I’ve always got his back, but more than ever from now on. We always look out for each other, so I’d have his back in a fight. And vice versa.”

This was before going on to openly invite the world to a massive brawl.

“In case any of ‘that lot’ [famous comedy double-acts] are reading this. You can bring your best challenge to the table and we’ll end you. We’ll be here and we’ll be waiting for you. We took our lessons from the best. From the Godfathers [Laurel & Hardy].”

Rumour has it that an on-stage brawl has been arranged for the next Royal Variety Performance. hecklerspray is throwing its money behind the old guard beating off the challenge of the new boys looking to take their title of “ITV Vehicle Collectors”. There will be blood.

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Imagine an adult human parading a child around at a cattle market before a bunch of other adults, all hooting a braying while vying for position, showing off photos of their own offspring in an attempt to make a pair of children have sex.

This may sound like the most distressing thing ever (or, MTV’s ‘Date My Mom’), but this is pretty much what happened when Selena Gomez go together with Justin Bieber.

Sweet Jeebus.

Everyone assumed that the tiny actress met the infant popstar via celebrity get-togethers or similar, hitting it off and sharing anecdotes about the pains of being young and famous. Bonding over the trials of growing up in the media spotlight, they soon discovered that they had a lot in common and decided to meet up again. Right?

WRONG!

Basically, Selena’s mother was contacted by Bieber’s management and between them, they all decided that Justin and Selena fancied each other and should probably lose their virginity. Because it isn’t creepy when adults do that at all.

Selena said, talking about how long she’s know Beliebooboo:

“Uh, almost, like, two years now. His manager called my mom, who’s my manager.”

And what a lovely relationship Selena has with Justin. Everyday, she wakes with the fluttering of newly arranged love and a myriad of death-threats from Beliebers.

Speaking of which:

“It’s hard. It hurts, it really does. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything wrong. I’ve been best friends with him for a very long time. It does hurt my feelings a lot but I try not to focus on it. I have a strong family and great fans.”

A strong family who are, metaphorically speaking, shoving your arse down on Bieber’s groin repeatedly.

Lovely.

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Justin Bieber has had a waxwork unveiled at Madame Tussauds in London, with many gasping at just how human the dummy is in comparison to the thimble sized singer. Of course, stupid fans shrieked and yelped while trying to ignore the fact it doesn’t really look like him.

Needless to say, the Never Say Never star (surely, ‘Never Say Never’ should simply be called ‘Say’ then?) didn’t mind. It afforded him the chance to receive ultimately unrewarding adulation for looking exactly like himself.

Grinning like a tooth-filled dimwit, Bieber delivered a speech that the world’s greatest raconteur would be envious of. He said it was ‘awesome’.

Justin Boloober waddled around and posed like a monkey being threatened with a spade handle around his clone, giving off the impression that all this was a huge honour.

Alas, everyone heard him mutter to his mother

‘It doesn’t have any facial hair.’

His mummy wummy presumably gave a polite grin, ruffled his hair and walked away muttering ‘neither do you, you hairless little freakshow’.

Then, showing all the fun and grace of a teen sensation, he gave the waxwork an awkward hug and flatly refused to kiss it in front of photographers.

None of this mattered though because hundreds of Beliebers were on-hand to scream so loudly that everyone in a mile radius briefly assumed that our Earth had been taken over by a giant pea-whistle from outer space.

Grace Magraff, 14, from Idiotland, Surrey, squealed to a newspaper:

“I cannot believe I am in the same room as Justin and his figure is amazing. I don’t want to leave; I just want to stay by his figure forever!”

Like Greyfriars Bobby, the simpleton dog who showed loyalty to a corpse in such a manner that even Michael Jackson fans would consider it rather short-sighted and stupid. Greyfriars Bobby probably starved to death or something.

We’ll assume Grace Magraff will be taken away and force fed some food in the brief moments between screaming and crying over Justin Boohoober.

Next week: Security worry about Bieber being so quiet and introverted before realising they’d left the real one at Madam Tussauds by accident.

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Just as we all assumed, Justin Bieber is turning into a sneering little brat… a git of the highest order. Throw endless attention at a child and he’ll repay you with the kind of behaviour that would embarrass your average MTV producer.

Now Bieber has had a film out and got himself a starlet girlfriend (who has had a face like a torn welly boot lately), he’s decided to stroppily stomp around the place and forget all that sheened professionalism that he’s had drummed into him by his army of men with flipcharts.

Don’t believe us?

Let us look at Bieber’s recent behaviour.

He went on a date with Gomez and when his fans (y’know, those wide-eyed children with pink pencil cases and pocket money who have vaulted Bieber from foetus to superstar toddler) and decided that he would be incredibly rude to them. That probably left one man mopping up enough tears to fill Death Valley.

On his birthday, he gave the finger to a bunch of paps who he was more than happy to court previously. And it doesn’t end there – he attacked some poor woman with a camera in her hand while he was out-and-about.

Early this month, he thought it would be okay to kick one of his backing dancers. So what’s the fuss about that? Well, he kicked her in the throat.

Yeah.

Then, he capped all this off by performing a show with his flies unzipped and stealing his guitarist’s – Dan Kanter – phone and tweeted that he would be leaving the band, causing an outpouring of grief from his fans and presumably putting the fear of God into Kanter who thought he was getting the coldest You’re Sacked slip in the history of entertainment.

What can we expect next? Bieber bringing back happy slapping? Justin wrestling grandmother’s to the ground like Andy Kaufman before performing a full nelson that squeezes ever trace of air out?

We’re watching you Bieber. Y’little shit.

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Is there anything more delightful of an evening than a beer and some unwarranted violence?  Of course not, it’s what makes us British.  Tea, banging on nostalgically about the blitz and fighting in pubs, are as quintessentially British as having Prince Charles play national anthem on a kazoo while you shave a Union Jack into your pubic hair. Rule Britannia!

Something else quintessentially British is Ant and Dec.  No other country in the world would embrace a couple of midgets from the third world (Newcastle) whose main talent seem to be that you can never figure out which is which.

Although, we’re going to have to figure it out now.

In a moment more indicative of Old Blighty than the last night of the proms, the dual force of telly omnipresence and casual violence joyfully met in a good old fashion pub punch up.  Someone’s punched Ant.  Or was it Dec?

Which is the one with the big forehead?

Ant?

Right, him.  He’s been decked.

Ant McPartlin got punched in the face while stood in a pub watching football in a London pub.   The 35 year-old Geordie was innocently watching footy on the old Aunt Nelly in the nuclear sub when some right raving oil tanker Salford Docks up beside him and lamps him right in the Chevy Chase.*

According to The Sun, Ant was having a few beers with friends in a pub in Chiswick, The Barley Mow. Dec had been there, but wasn’t anymore. Which surprised us, we thought they were conjoined twins or something.  Apparently a chap in tracksuit and silly hat shouted “Where’s your girlfriend?”, referencing Dec.

Then, according to Giedrius Kudzinskas, who conveniently had eyes pointing in the direction of the incident;

“Ant didn’t react and this bloke launched himself at him and punched him in the face. Ant reeled back and then a big fight broke out as his mates came to help him. Other people jumped in and held back the other guy.”

The chap was thrown out, Ant finishes his drink and all is well until Ant leaves and the young pup is their with more verbal nonsense. Ant walked away. Which we of course applaud, but a full blown street riot would have made this story much more interesting. So uneventful was this event that the landlord didn’t know a thing about it until The Sun rang him for this solid gold quote;

“I’m not aware of any violent situation.”

The biggest disappointment of that hecklerspray‘s could’ve gone ’round to The Barley Mow to watch, film and cover this live. If only we could afford pubs, instead of spending the evenings huddling together for warmth and sipping anti-freeze.

*The 35 year-old chap from the North Eastern part of England was, quite without blame, was viewing a game of association football on the television in a public house when a ruffian perambulated to his side and proceeded to strike Mr McPartlin in the face, presumably by rapidly straightening his arm, thus thrusting a clenched fist into the front side of Mr McPartlin’s head.

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Pint sized American Justin Bieber is currently in the UK. How do we know this? Well if you switch off any the TV or pause any music that’s playing, you’ll hear the faint high pitched squeals of young girls as they come close to orgasm, knowing that there in the same landmass as Bieber.

In the past, we’ve been accused of being ignorant and rude about the eight year old singer, so we wanted to make amends.

Using our best joined-up handwriting on lined paper, we sent out a polite invitation to Justin Bieber’s record label asking if one of his after show parties could be held in our bedsit. We promised to clean away the empty Pot Noodle tubs and spray air-freshener to mask the smell of sweat and desperation. We thought we’d show Justin the hecklerspray way, which pretty much involves getting blind drunk. Sadly this won’t be on the cards now, as the pesky baby has gone and banned alcohol from his life!

The decision for the 2 day old singer to not go mental on alcohol is a strange one to us. Americans are under the strange illusion that Budweiser is the king of beers. Granted this is correct if you like drinking something that is flat and weaker than a punch from a sick moth.

Underage Americans pretty much get shot for drinking under the legal age of twenty one, so when the youth of America leave their native land of cheeseburgers and heart attacks, they tend to go mental on the old alcohol and get laughed at by everyone else.

Drinking underage would also allow Justin Bieber to bond with his adoring with his fans. In the UK, most kids usually hang around parks sipping budget cider and getting off their baps.

These are the people who fit the target demographic who Justin Bieber is marketed to. So, instead of meeting some competition winners in a backstage room and having awkward conversations, he could instead visit the local park, get hammered with his fans, push them on the swings and then if he’s lucky, fingerbang anyone who want to show that sod Selena Gomez a lesson.

But Justin Bieber has decided that alcohol won’t touch his lips.

Christ, what’s the worst that could happen? Come on, he can’t even drive since he’s only four, so he won’t end up doing a Christina Aguilera. Enjoy life whilst you can Justin and let us be your teachers.

A source says:

“He’s very strict about having alcohol anywhere near him. Justin thinks even having it in the room sends out the wrong signal to fans.”

We assume that when they say Justin Bieber was being “strict”, he asked once and when he didn’t get his way, the brat threatened to wee his pants and then lay in the middle of the floor kicking and screaming, crying until his body couldn’t produce any more tears.

Not only is Justin Bieber missing out on a British tradition of getting drunk underage and being violently ill, but he’ll also miss out on something else, the late night kebab, the culinary classic of the drunk, regardless of age.

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Unless you’re a wailing Belieber, you can’t help but notice the thinly-veiled, simmering, brattish tension that is building up behind the eyes of Justin Bieber currently. At the tender age of 6 years old, he’s already jaded and wanting to lash out.

When faced with people interviewing him, gone is the Apple Pie, shucks-I’m-just-a-cutesy-kid routine, replaced with someone bored and disinterested with the world. Of course, this bodes well for a future breakdown which he’ll conduct in public.

And now, that quiet, seething rage is beginning to rear up like a grumpy mouse stood on its hind legs, angrily shaking a fist on your doorstep. This turbulent grrrrr transpired as a elongated finger aimed at the paparazzi. Next stop, spitting at them a la Avril Lavigne.

Yes indeed, Master Bieber flipped the bird at a bunch of people taking photographs of him while he went through a McDonald’s drive-thru (surely he could have got someone to do that for him? It’s not one of life’s little pleasures now is it?).

And of course, realising that the butter isn’t supposed to melt in his mouth, he quickly apologised to his fans for ‘reacting in anger’ by swearing with his hands.

He wrote on twitter:

‘Had a great bday and at the end of the night we got surrounded by paps and I reacted in a way I know better. I’m sorry. It’s not always easy but I know better than to react in anger’

‘Life has its ups and downs but u guys r always there 4 me. I will make my mistakes but I promise 2 continue 2 grow with u and try 2 do rt.’

And it seems that Bieber’s birthday week hasn’t been all that great as rumours circulate that a Belieber may have smacked his girlfriend, Selena Gomez, in the mouth. Check this video.

So fervently odd are you howling Beliebers that you’ve taken to punching his girlfriend in the face when you see her? Who is going to give your pint-sized popstar clumsy blow-jobs now?

Not you lot. You’re clearly not to be trusted. And it doesn’t matter one jot that you had a hashtag on twitter saying #sorryjustin.

Hashtags don’t mop up those weeping droplets of blood while Justin tried to hide his little erection behind of sofa cushion, does it?

Still, while this anger swells back-and-forth from fan, to Bieber, from Bieber to the press, we’ll be on-hand to find out the absolutely, 100% true facts about the whole thing.

Note: We may dismiss said facts.

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Friday 11th December, approximately 8.00pm. Deeply dislikeable grinning toad Dom Joly was on the receiving end of some instant justice after a disgruntled commuter decided to take a swing at him on the train, presumably still seething from the hugely ungracious, boorish performance the ‘comic’ put in on “I’m a Celebrity”.

We know this because the self-involved human embodiment of the word ‘gloat’ tweeted the whole thing in real time. Do not look at his Twitter page – it features several pictures of Joly being predictably ‘zany’. The incident started innocuously:

“Getting hassled by a drunk on the train home- oh the joy of minor celebrity status…….” tweeted the man once described by no less than Pierce Brosnan as a “persistent little fat fuck”. It’s time to look at yourself when James Bond starts calling you.

Anyway. The guy was probably asking Joly where his really big mobile phone was, seeing as how that sketch has been consistently hilarious each and every time it’s been shown over the past eleven years.

“Memo to self- never take public transport again- normal people very frightening….”

“Yes I am in first class- just makes the insults worse….”

That’s right. Whilst not mocking other people on Twitter (gems include “wow 0 followers that takes some skill…loser” and “wow 4 followers…looks like the only way is up for you….” as well as “2 followers? your mum and your parole officer?”) or throwing a massively childish strop when somebody decides to ‘unfollow’ him, the ‘japester’  takes time to moan about his celebrity status, having to take public transport – even if first class – and ‘normal people’.

And then wonders why people try and smack him one.

The gentleman in question succeeded only in breaking Joly’s spectacles and was arrested at Didcot Parkway. At which point Joly tweeted:

“Sadly- being on telly means you can’t lamp the twat back…..”

As if he was even going to. That comment is the equivalent of being the pussy in a midnight town-centre confrontation that backs down, waits for the other bloke to get to a safe distance before shouting something about the other guy’s mother and then pegging it as fast as he can.

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EastEnders routinely inspires violence in its viewers. OK, in us. And the violence is mainly directed at our sofa, accompanied by yells of "This is so rubbish! Why is this even on? Arrrgh!"

However, sometimes this little violent whirlpool leaks out from inside our heads and ends up elsewhere, like the outside of Lacey Turner's head.

Basically, Lacey Turner, who plays Stacey in EastEnders, got beaten up in a car park. In a supermarket car park. 

Even though it's a TV show that preposterously assumes there's a corner of East London not full of preening, self-involved, asymmetrical-haircutted fashion students with rich parents, a collection of brightly-coloured plastic sunglasses and a well-established eating disorder, EastEnders still has the power to shock.

Although it mainly shocks by occasionally sneaking in scenes of Hostel-style torture porn at 7:30pm and by keeping Bobby Davro in gainful employment, sometimes EastEnders can shock in the real world, too. Past examples of this include Dirty Den webcamming his cock to a journalist and Letitia Dean's big red face on Strictly Come Dancing. And a present example of this is EastEnders star Lacey Turner getting lamped in the head in a supermarket car park.

Apparently Lacey Turner was punched in the head after leaving a nightclub with Aaron Sidwell, who plays that boy in EastEnders who was so mentally ill that he kidnapped his dad and shot his dad's wife and then suddenly got better for no logical reason whatsoever. Now reports Lacey's nightclub attack in more detail than we could ever hope to:

A fellow guest at the club says: 'I left at around the same time and saw Lacey and Aaron walking across a nearby car park when the group of men approached them. There were a few words exchanged and suddenly one of the blokes lashed out. He hit her with a very powerful punch — it knocked her to the ground. She looked really shaken up and had to be helped to her feet. Everyone stopped. They couldn't believe what had happened. A couple of people helped her into a car and she went home.' 

It sounds shocking, we know, and it can't have been especially pleasant for Lacey Turner either, but she wasn't badly injured enough to affect her work. And if you think that's bad, just wait until next week – the bloke who plays Ian Beale is going to have a bottle fight with a sailor after an illegal dogfight turns sour.

Read more:

SHOCK! EastEnders' Lacey Turner attacked – Now 

If Pierce Brosnan ever punched you in the chest, chances are you'd feel a small amount of emotional pain – as you would if you were beaten up by any old man who looks like he smells of treated leather and Old Spice.

But enough emotional pain to sue Pierce Brosnan? Photographer Robert Rosen seems to think so. Following a bewilderingly petty shoving match in a Los Angeles car park in October that variously included a rib-punch, a stomach-kick and the immortal line "Why don't you get a real fucking job?" Robert Rosen is now suing Pierce Brosnan for 'severe physical and emotional pain and injuries'. Needless to say, there'd have been a lot less emotional pain if Robert Rosen was beaten up in a car park by Daniel Craig, but Pierce Brosnan? Christ, that's so 1998.

Poor old Pierce Brosnan. He lost the James Bond job because he was a bit too slick, a bit too Gillette, for modern tastes. It's all very well being able to kite-surf on a glacier that's being attacked by a space-laser, but audiences now want something different from James Bond – they want scenes of interminable card-games being explained by a whispering French policeman interspersed with clips of a burly bloke repeatedly punching a slightly less burly bloke in the mouth until he dies.

And, of course, the irony there is that the first thing of any worth that Pierce Brosnan did after being moved on from James Bond was that very thing. Well, that very thing without the card games or French policemen. Or the punching a man in the face until he dies bit, too, if we're honest. But allegedly swearing at a photographer and then punching him in the chest? Pierce Brosnan is all over that.

Back in October we reported that Pierce Brosnan got into a fight with photographer Robert Rosen in a Los Angeles car park, with Rosen claiming that Brosnan suddenly got aggressive and started shouting things like "Why don't you get a real fucking job?" before punching the snapper in the chest.

However, with eyewitnesses also claiming that they saw Rosen boot Pierce Brosnan in the stomach, the picture doesn't seem so clear cut. And now that Los Angeles prosecutors have washed their hands of the case citing insufficient evidence, Robert Rosen has now decided to sue the balls off Pierce Brosnan instead. The Associated Press reports:

Robert Rosen said he was taking photos of Brosnan on Oct. 26 when "suddenly and without warning," the 54-year-old actor struck him in the chest, causing "severe physical and emotional pain and injuries, including bruised ribs."… The freelance photographer is suing for unspecified general and punitive damages, the cost of medical and psychological treatment, and lost earnings.

And let's not forget that the cost of medical and psychological treatment is probably quite high, since there can't be too many doctors or therapists around who'd respond to this in any other way than by shouting "You got punched in the ribs by Pierce Brosnan and you're suing him? You massive wuss – what is he, like 75 years old now?" right into Robert Rosen's face.

Read more:

Paparazzi Sues Brosnan in Shoving Match – Associated Press