Dancing on Ice. It’s always been the runty sibling of the celeb reality shows, hasn’t it? Relegated to Sunday nights in January when anyone with any sense is in the pub breaking every single resolution all at once. They may be missing a show that clearly has the best premise of any show ever broadcast ever, but they don’t care. The fools.

The magic of DOI is that its full celebrities so desperate for attention that they’re willing to brain themselves on some frozen water in the vain hope that they might get a feature in Closer magazine about their incredible new figure.

They’re putting themselves in actual, mortal danger. Because they want to be back on TV. Does anything ever get better than that?

Clearly, ITV think it does, because they’ve only gone and totally mucked around with the entire show just to irk us off. Gone is Holly Willoughby and her spectacular, heaving rack, leaving the Dads of Britain with one less thing to jerk over. That’s because she’s been replaced by Christine Bleakley and her incredibly pointy and sackable (and punchable) face.

Even the judging panel isn’t safe; it’s still led by ‘Olympic Champion’ Robin Cousins, but Jason Gardner and his hair transplant have been replaced by Louie Spence. Emma Bunton, meanwhile, lost her her place to some bint called Katarina who apparently does actually know some stuff about skating because she won a few things once or something.

Although who cares about the credibility. We just want some good bitchy quotes.

Thankfully they’ve still managed to dig out 15 fame-hungry cretins who are willing to attach blades to the bottom of their feet and spin round in circles a bit, so some things never change. We’d tell you who they are, but we did that last week and you should’ve been paying attention. What we will tell you though, is that Chesney Hawkes broke his entire self and has been replaced by Chico. Which can only make things more ridiculous.

And last night the first seven “celebs” tried not to kill themselves on live TV. Even though the entire country was willing everyone to do a little bit of falling over. First up BigFace Sugababe Heidi wore a blazer to practice, which was clearly hugely inappropriate. Then she broke her original partner by destroying his absolutely massive arms. We briefly expected Brendan Cole to appear and save the day, but some Russian guy did instead.

Then she did her routine and didn’t fall over and the judges said some things and it wasn’t that exciting.

Next up was Mark from “Sam and Mark”, that dreadful Pop Idol-spawned kids TV monstrosity. He was paired with Frankie-no-surname. And according to the VT, he was awful. Truly, appalling dreadful. And probably person most likely to fall over, which was why they made him skate to ‘I’m Still Standing’.

Annoyingly, he didn’t fall over, although he did have the best wobbly leg that TV has ever seen.  It was like he was being electrocuted from the waist down. Whilst pulling a stupid face. And getting low marks.

Out for the Mum votes was Charlene Tilton, who was apparently once in Dallas. hecklerspray’s mum says she was called the ‘poison dwarf’. Everyone on Dancing on Ice says she has “loads of energy”, which possibly translates as “more annoying than ten Timmy Mallets.” She definitely annoyed us by being a little bit good.

Jorgie Porter may not be able to spell her own name, but according to her VT she’s up for anything. And has none of the fear.  But she did have a slow song, which, through some weird reverse logic is apparently harder than a quick one. She did all sorts of complicated lifts and scored 18.5 which was apparently the best thing any of them had ever seen.

Stuck attempting to follow Jorgie and her flounciness was Chemmy Allcott who is apparently a downhill skier who has broken everything in her body. Including shattering her leg. So obviously going on ice is a really, really great idea and not at all likely to end in a horrific injury.

Thankfully for both Chemmy and the future of British skiing she made it through without damaging anything else. Which is probably for the best. Because if she fell over there’s every chance she’d actually break into a million tiny little pieces. And then ITV would have to pay out a lot of compensation to traumatised viewers and would have no budget left to produce such classic telly as Wild at Heart. And nobody wants that.

Following Chemmy, the human Humpty Dumpty, was some bloke called Andy who is apparently a Blue Peter presenter. And was far too chirpy for his own good. He spent a lot of the VT dropping his partner Maria, which got our hopes up that he might do that on actual live TV.

He didn’t. In fact, he was quite good. Which means that we have no interest in him at all.

Closing the show was some other Andy who is apparently the comedian of Coronation Street. We were led to believe that he’d be comically dreadful, but instead he was boringly mediocre.  The selfish twat.

And yet, Mediocre Andy didn’t find himself in the skate-off. Nor did useless Mark. That questionable honour was reserved for Heidi and Chirpy Andy, because ITV viewers apparently hate joy. And the Sugababes. The ice panel chose to save Heidi, presumably because they couldn’t be bothered with the hassle and confusion of having two Andys in the competition. Who cares about talent and ability? Not Robin Cousins.

Still, the nice people at ITV have given us another full week to recover from the unfulfilled promise of tonight’s show and prepare ourselves for the first skates of the other half of the celebrities. Hopefully one of them will do what they’re meant to and stack it spectacularly.

Our money’s on Chico.

Still reeling from the Christmas carbohydrate intake and eventually calming down from the unfortunate and thinly veiled insults from your elderly, racist grandmother? Well don’t get too comfortable because your rage-meter is set to reach all new, Jeremy Clarkson-esque highs with the unveiling of the Desperate Slags on Ice lineup.

Dancing On Ice always been a one-stop WTF shop, comprised of people you’d generally forgotten had even existed, only to turn up, get their face smashed off ice and then slink off into The Bill or Holby City, or if they’re lucky, series 300 of My Family.

It’s the final stop on the bus ride to celebrity oblivion before Celebrity Big Brother with Michael Barrymore and whatever natural body parts of Pete Burns are left.

This year doesn’t show any signs of being less dickish, in fact, some might say that this year’s is the best line up yet.

Not us, obviously. Why would we say that? Anyone desperate to appear on Dancing On Ice will be turning tricks for three Kit Kats and a Bounty before Year’s End. But, consummate professionals as we are, we should take a cursory glance over who’s putting themselves up for our derision.

It’s only right.

Corey Feldman, with some ridiculous Jackson-esque fringe nonsense leads the list of desperadoes, followed closely by (soon to be ex) Sugababe Heidi Range and professional Student Union performer, Chesney Hawkes as the triumvirate of twats that everyone will have heard of. Especially with Gremlins being on ITV2 every night over Christmas. That film is full of the Feldman.

Then there’s fitness expert Rosemary Conley, who we can’t bring ourselves to speak ill of, Sam and Mark, who we do nothing other than speak ill of, Emmerdale spunky hunk Matthew Wolfenden and his binary opposite Andy Whyment (its Kirk. Kirk. Him with the nose).

Giving it a college try there’s also Laila Morse (the fattest Eastender now that Pat Butcher went to the Great Kathy’s Cafe in the sky *sniff*), ex-Blue Peter presenter and soon to be cocaine addict, Andy Akinwolere and the great big pair of tits that is Jennifer Ellison.

And Chemmy Alcott, Charlene Tilton and Sebastien Foucan, who we don’t know, and don’t need to know.

Who’s your favourite to fall flat on their face and dissolve into a mess of blood and tears? We’d quite like to see what damage a collision with ice will do to Kirk’s already deformed nose.

Here at hecklerspray, we know a good pie when we see one and our love of their consumption is legendary the world over. However, our combined level of the consumption of the humble steak and kidney can be rapidly outstripped by human food vacuum Cee Lo Green.

You might remember Cee Lo from that piss awful ‘Forget You’ number that was redone from being ‘F**k You’ in order to get more radio play and completely destroying what little artistic credibility he had based on his time as part of Gnarls Barkley. More recently, you might have heard that he’s not a big fan of the gays.

The famed cake enthusiast has explained his recent comments to music critic Andrea Swensson that were perceived as being homophobic. The rotund Elton John tribute act sent a Twitter message to Swensson on Friday, in response to a negative review of his recent Minneapolis performance, questioning whether she had been offended by his masculinity due to her sexuality. She’s a lesbian you see which means that she’s bound to be terrified of things with penises.

Green has now defended his comments, and insisted that he had simply been trying to have a joke after spending three hours ploughing through pork scratchings in an effort to disguise the pain of a negative review. Let us remember that this is the man who constantly inflicts Gwyneth Paltrow upon the live music scene. If anyone deserves a bad review- it’s Cee Lo Green.

Green says, wiping away Twinkies from his face:

“I was being a little outspoken that night, a little outrageous”

“I always expect people to assume that everything I do is part of my character and my sense of humour. I assumed that whoever it was would assume it was all in good fun. It wasn’t taken so well, apparently.”

Of course, Cee Lo’s comments were all in good fun. Jim Davidson was said to have been creasing himself with laughter. Unfortunately, it was taken as being offensive by his target. How anyone could take an overtly homophobic comment as having homophobic overtones completely escapes us.

While admitting that sending the message had been a mistake, Green asserted that he is in no way homophobic and prides himself on being one of the most liberal artists in the music business by constantly dressing like Rod Hull’s former puppet companion Emu.

“I certainly am not harbouring any sort of negative feeling towards the gay community”

If I could take it all back, I would. I was not being serious. I just wanted to defend our performance”

Unfortunately, what is said cannot be unsaid and he can only spend the rest of his life backtracking through his Narnia-like wardrobe until eventually people forget that he’s a homophobe by completely forgetting that he ever existed in the first place. Cee Lo Green. A dull, compromised footnote in the tome of popular music.

Green is currently appearing as a vocal coach on NBC talent contest The Voice which must be a truly awful experience for the American viewing public.

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Queen Bee of the America’s Next Top Model Bitches, Tyra Banks, can smile with her eyeballs. Now, she’s winking with her pelvic floor muscles as she begins a period in her life which is completely condomless. What? She’s trying to catch a sexually transmitted disease?!

Don’t be silly. Obviously, she’s trying to get pregnant because she’s reached that stage of her life when she feels like she’s got absolutely nothing to offer the world other than identical pictures of a baby coughing up mashed-up swede through it’s crusty little nose holes.

Imagine Tyra’s mothering skills! *shudder*

For some inexplicable reason, CNN are still showing ‘Piers Morgan Tonight’ as the network still hasn’t worked out that this pudding faced git box has about as much charisma as a pan lid. It was on his show that Smizer decided to tell the world that her legs where very much open all hours at the moment in her and her boyfriend (some twit called John Utendahl) are desperate to get a child stuffed up their like a clergyman, quivering in a priest hole.

As proof, here are some of the words she said:

“I definitely want babies”

See? That’s absolutely conclusive.

Piers Morgan went deeper down the rabbit hole and asked if she was trying. Tyra coyly replied:

“Yeah, maybe.”

SEE?! She’s DEFINITELY having a baby! She’s probably got a dozen or so growing inside a special back-pouch as we speak!

But she’s not going to bother getting married before she has a chile, mainly because marriage is a wholly useless, old-fashioned construct for people who simply can’t wrestle free from pointless superstition and routine. Or, in the words of Banks

“I don’t think it’s necessarily necessary.”

Whatever.

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The globe was sent into utter turmoil on Friday as Khloe Kardashian – any sane man’s “third choice” when it comes to the Kardasain sisters – began firing some perplexing tweets at an apathetic internet audience.

Initially puzzled as to why anyone in their right mind would care one jot about the opinions of any of the three over-priviliged no-marks, the universe pretended to express deep concern when the one you “definitely wouldn’t” started creating a bit of a stir with tweets that seemed out of character.

Yeah, we presume she has some kind of character or something.

Anyway, the tweets went like this:

“If no-one was there to hear me queef, did it really exist?”

And

“touching my titties”

And also

“I like to crap, not wipe, sit on my dogs neck & give him a bow-tie”

Not to mention the genius

“I’ve just sharted”

Most of the civilised world had no idea why any of the above would be note-worthy, assuming it all to be entirely indicative of Khloe ‘Airport Security Is Like Rape’ Kardasian’s normal mental output.

And then listlessly reacted to the news that the whole thing was a massive hoax perpetuated by the comedy genius of both her sister Kim (who you would) and Nicole Richie (you’d have to be really drunk) who hacked her Twitter account (no doubt utilising the little-known ‘password’ as password get-around these imbeciles seem to be unaware of) to then spew-out a load of inane tweets indistinguishable from the real ones.

Meanwhile things seem to be getting no better in Libya.

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Americans seem to love those cowboy country men. You know the ones who politely love the ladies, fondle tractors and sometimes kiss each other while pretending to look after cattle up a mountain, almost as much as they love their slightly mental divas who can run up and down a scale at precisely the same speed as Justin Bieber’s first attempt at intercourse with another person.

So it made TOTAL sense when they decided to get some bloke hecklerspray hasn’t made fun of until now – Blake Shelton and the ever expanding Christina ‘make mine a double please’ Aguilera together in the same room to become part of the coaching panel on a new reality singing show called ‘ The Voice’.

We can hardly wait.

Until approx 7 mins ago we didn’t know or give a rat’s ass who Blake Shelton was but in case you care, he sings country songs, wins awards for singing country songs and probably hasn’t done anything remotely evil in his entire life.

Also on the panel are dress destroying Cee-Lo Green and Adam Lavine from Maroon 5 who makes us even less excited than ‘thingy’ Shelton.

34 year old Blake Carrington joked:

“I’m not sure ‘The Voice’ knows what they signed on for by bringing me on the show”

We’re not entirely sure either. Maybe to make that Maroon 5 bloke look slightly more dangerous or so the country music loving fans don’t bring their pitchforks to the studio and start line dancing in protest.

The show starts on the 26th April and the four judges will select the contestants based on blind auditions.

Yes, that’s right – NO TITS WILL BE USED TO WIN FAVOUR WITH THE MALE JUDGES.

So no doubt we’ll be left watching a group of people who can hold a tune but who all look like Rocky Dennis from Mask.

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We’ve never really ‘got’ the Kardashian sisters. They’re kind of a ‘Lidl’ Paris Hilton, despite the fact that there are three of them. Which sort of makes them three times more despicable.

But at least Paris Hilton has never been stupid enough to say that basic security checks are like being RAPED.

The thing with the Kardashians is – at least two of them are smashable. Which ‘sort of’ forgives their lack of intellect, personality and talent. Or the massive resentment caused by their ridiculous unearned wealth. Or the fact that they are in the public eye for no reason other than being really rich and stupid enough to let people point cameras at them. Whilst either having sex or appearing on a horrendous ‘reality’ show.

But Khloe’s got the short straw, being heavy-set in a Monica Lewinski kind of way. You wouldn’t want to burst her even if you were tremendously drunk. Or were Bill Clinton. So she’s had to find a new way to gain attention.

Yes. By outraging every single person on earth by claiming that ‘rape’ – the most harrowing thing a living person can experience other than the death of their children and still the preferred recreational method of war for many third-world dictatorships – is as bad as a ‘pat-down’ at the airport.

“Well, they basically are just raping you in public,”

That’s what she said on George Lopez’s television show this week.

To a stunned silence.

“They say, ‘OK, I’m going to be patting you down and I’m going to be touching the crease of your ass.’ That is so inappropriate.”

It isn’t. No-one in their right mind would go within a mile of the ‘crease of your ass’ if they had to. God knows what’s in there.

‘They’re so aggressive and forceful.’

Moaned the absolutely disgustingly wealthy pig-woman, unaware that air travel is at best an annual TREAT to the bulk of the civilised world – the part that are not seeing their women-folk RAPED by military regimes.

In other news the Kardashian-branded pre-paid debit card for kids too young to have a bank account has been discontinued as the hidden charges were deemed to be financially ‘raping’ any vulnerable user of them.

Amusing.

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If there’s one thing this nation needs more of, its smug gits in business attire spunking away money that isn’t theirs whilst being rewarded with lavish amounts of champagne and opportunities to stab those who have irked them squarely between the shoulders.

Yes, that’s right, it’s week 9 of The Apprentice!

This week everyone’s favourite job applicants have the task of buying 10 rare items with a budget of £1500. Whoever spent the least won the task. Simples. There were obviously fines for failing to procure all the items or for not turning up to the boardroom on time, just in case anyone fancied playing fast and loose with the rules.

Sir Alan/Lord Sugar/The A-Train also decided to return to a boys versus girls format, so be prepared for lots of bitching and over the top macho posturing! HOORAY!

Synergy hit the ground running, project manager and world smirking champion Jamie took off on his own, leaving Chris, “all the personality of an investment banker,” Bates and Stuart, “Iceland own-brand,” Baggs to duke it out for the title of Britain’s dullest man.

Apollo, meanwhile, took the time to call ahead, finding out what their products were and where they could find them. When they finally did hit the road, they were able to get straight to their suppliers and bagged all 10 of their items with relative ease.

The only exception was Liz and Joanna’s late return to the boardroom, which was caused by them trying to haggle with a man who moved so slowly that, upon reflection, he may have actually been dead.

Apollo’s organisation and efficiency looked like a solid plan, which naturally meant they would go on to lose the task to Synergy, with their plan of randomly walking up and down streets in central London the vain hope that they just happen upon one of the items on their list, despite the fact they often had no idea what they were looking for.

Another key component of Synergy’s plan seemed to be the acting ability of Chris. Jamie asked his team to have a story ready to sell to suppliers that would allow them to get the best price and boy did Chris take this advice on board. Our lovable investment banker started making up bizarre stories about how he’d left items in Nottingham, or was going to a wedding in Scotland with his Nan whilst also bleating about how he had no money left.

There were only 2 problems with these stories. Firstly, none of them made any sense. Secondly, Chris was a sharply dressed man, accompanied by another sharply dressed man AND A CAMERA CREW. There was no way anyone was actually buying these stories, they just wanted to get him and his lively, investment-banker personality out of their shops before he made their heads explode with his ridiculous monotone lies.

When we got to the boardroom it was announced that the boys, despite failing to get all 10 items, had won the task. Which shocked Jamie so much he actually continued to apologise for his performance despite winning. Cue VT that sees the boys spend the weekend in Paris, frolicking in parks whilst wearing berets, oversized sunglasses and turtle neck sweaters.  It made you want to reach through the TV and throttle them until the twitching stopped.

That’s right, the boys got rewarded for their failure. The Apprentice has now officially become a bizarre hybrid parody of the banking sector.

The girls, looking like a bizarre corporate girl-band, tried to ditch Stella faster than Girls Aloud tried to ditch the Ginger one by subtly editing her out of their videos. But eventually it was 22 year old rah and professional glass ceiling dropper, Laura, that bit the bullet.

Let this be a lesson to you, if all you’re really good for is looking a bit like a horse and crying a lot, then an angry old man probably won’t hire you to be his assistant. Unless he’s a pervert.

BEST MOMENT: Tie between the surprise on everyone’s face when Synergy won and the audible groan when both Stella and Liz walked back in to the house.

WORST MOMENT: Liz trying to grab a pen out of an old man’s hand because he was taking too long to write a receipt. Classy.

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I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! is the most honest ‘reality’ show on the box. Basically, it makes no bones about the fact that the whole point of the programme is to give us plebs the chance to make famous people suffer.

We make them eat stinking genitals and grubs that pop in your mouth like marshmallow filled cherry tomatoes and, in the case of Gillian McKeith, put her in so many jungle trials that she may actually die.

And now, sick of talking to the tick on his neck, Nigel Havers has quit I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! As this is news of the breaking kind, there’s not much to say about the whole thing, other than the fact that it looked like Havers was going wimp out after whining and bitching on our TVs last night. A message on the show’s official Twitter has now confirmed his exit saying “It’s official – Nigel Havers has left the jungle.”

More when we get it/more if it sounds interesting enough.

Does anybody still watch America’s Next Top Model? No? Fine, whatevs. Unbelievably there was a time when watching 12 underweight, malnourished and grossly over-confident girls harp on about who “wants it” more was compulsive viewing.

Well, compulsive viewing for people with too much time on their hands that is. Normal people would find it more entertaining and fulfilling to throw some tramps under Waterloo bridge a few crusts of bread and watch them wrestle for it.

Alas, ANTM is just as embarrassingly addictive and chock full’o pricks as X-Factor and The Apprentice but if you thought Simon Cowell and Lord Suralan were obsessed with making their respective shows all about them, you’ve clearly never encountered the narcissistic world of Tyra “MEMEMEMEMEMEME” Banks.

D’you know what happens when a extremely beautiful person seems to only exist to tell you how beautiful they are? Well, apart from wanting to tear your own jaw off and throw it at them, the words soon begin to lose all meaning. The same can be said for Ms Banks who’s so obsessed with telling us how successful she was that no-one believes her anymore.

Despite all that ANTM is still a perfect way to waste an hour right behind gnawing your own arm off and this series is no different. We’ve got the plus size girl who says she’ll fight to get into the industry, only to collapse in tears when she realises nothing fits. There’s the one who won’t stop crying because she misses her child. The one who defied her God-fearing parents by getting knocked up before she was legal and thinking that getting married makes it all OK. So basically it’s the same as always but that’s what makes it so great.

This week, the girls were asked to create chemistry with their ‘noted’ fashion photographer Nigel Barker in preparation for a photoshoot with a fat and unfunny comedian.

Admittedly these ladies are quite young but we’re unsure whether saying “let’s get naked” is the best way to create chemistry. A sexual assault yes, but not chemistry. The main photoshoot was shot in NYC’s infamous Canal Street, the go to location for designer knock-offs faker than Tyra’s ponytail.

The objective was to work with the ridiculous styling to sell the clothes. Need a visual? Imagine what Mr Blobby would look like if he slimmed down, draped himself in Claire’s Accessories and stole Rod Stewart’s barnet from 1976.

Apparently that’s “high fashion”.

Anywhoo, Tatianna couldn’t do it and was sent home. The preview of next week promises to show us something we’ve never seen; loud black women arguing.

CAN’T WAIT.

People who were famous in the ’80s thrive on knowing that, despite falling out of favour with various television and record company executives, their hardcore fanbase still love them. These fans are what stop them from rigging a hose up to the exhaust and ending this cruel life.

But what happens when those fans suddenly go AWOL? What happens when these fans decide that you can’t even dance as well as Bristol Palin who moves around the floor like a thing you’ve shot in the knees?

This is what David Hasselhoff will be asking himself today as he was the first person voted off Dancing With The Stars. It looks like we might be due another Hoff Drunk On The Floor video again.

We’re well aware that The Hoff has worked on various talent shows in The States, but really, that isn’t an indicator of how well loved you are by the public at large. That would be like assuming that the British public have grabbed Amanda Holden and Piers Morgan and clutched them to the collective bosom.

We haven’t. We have to get up early in a morning just so we can cram all the loathing in.

Hoff’s departure has still come as something of a surprise to host of Dancing With The Stars, Tom Bergeron:

“I got to tell you, of all the first people to leave, in all the seasons I’ve hosted, this was the biggest surprise to me!”

Apparently, comedian Margaret Cho was the one that should have got the chop. Mainly because she’s a terrible dancer (which saw Bergeron quipping that she looked and danced ‘like Liberace’s shower curtain’).

This doesn’t matter one jot, because it’s obvious that the whole of America hates David Hasselhoff so much that they vote for Bristol Palin, despite the fact her mother is a fucking mental. When Michael Bolton is more popular than you, you really see the dark looming clouds of depressing hanging around on the horizon.

Hasselhoff said, adding to the sense of impending death:

“We’re already wearing black for our funeral – Hoff to heaven.”

No. Honestly. He said that. If only we were making that bit up.

Jimmy Kimmel added, after the show on his own show… show show show…:

“How do you eliminate David Hasselhoff in the first week?”

“Have you people no sense of comedy? I have a show to do here,”

“I was counting on him for at least six weeks! This is Hoff-ul, just Hoff-ul.”

There you have it. America hates David Hasselhoff and wishes that KITT got his gig on the show instead (which, for the record, would be fucking brilliant).

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What children need when coming into this world is stability, warmth, and most importantly, a great big butt to spill out of when the doctor comes a’callin’.

After all, the the more exit room the less likely the baby is to realise that that’s exactly what a fart must feel like. In a world where children’s fart sympathy is starting to cause so much unrest, we really can’t stress big-birthing-butt importance enough.

Speaking of which – a Kardashian is stuffed with child, and we don’t mean their mother again!To tell you the truth, we really don’t know anything about Kourtney Kardashian except that she’s not the one famous for sex on YouTube, she’s not the one famous for sex on MetaCafe, and we think she’s Cuban. Other than that we literally know nothing about her.

Oh – and she’s pregnant. Yup, she’s found somebody to top her off at the sperm pump, and although she’s been relatively mum as to who the father is – we’re pretty certain it’s Snagglepuss. Our reasoning for believing this is we heard she’s recently broken up with Hong Kong Phooey, and so far this whole pregnancy thing has just seemed spiteful.

Plus she’s always got those clumps of belly-rub pink fir stuck to the sweat between her fingers. The clues add up. Seriously.

Here’s E! Online for the real scoop:

“Kourtney Kardashian is going to be a mom! While the E! reality star confirms she’s pregnant with her first child, Ms. K isn’t revealing too much right now. She’s keeping mum on the daddy’s identity and how far along she is.”

That poor kid. Think about it . Right after birth it’ll probably look up towards it’s mother through the doctor’s fingers, realise that if talent comes 100% from heredity he’s screwed, and then he’ll ask a nurse to please just throw him into the big red bag with all the severed arms and what-not.

We jest, we jest! Really the kid’ll  just take solace in knowing that he probably wasn’t conceived in front of a million-plus mouse clicking, extremely sticky audience like his one-day cousins may or may not have to worry about.

And you know what – that sounds like the start to a pretty good life to us.

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As anyone generally considered villainous or reprehensible will tell you, anytime they are in a bank vault with a money-stuffed laundry bag slung over their shoulder, the last thing they want to see is ‘the Orange Glow.’

‘The Orange Glow’ is a criminal industry term for a streaked blur that swoops in and vanquishes all evil everywhere at least once daily. Some say his true identity is a mystery – unknown even to his plus-size wife.

Other’s say it’s actually Dog the Bounty Hunter after another rejuvenating self-tan session.

Speaking of which – someone recently tried to murder him.

In an ideal world all reality TV stars would get either stabbed, shot, or mauled by a thousand geese which have somehow been weened off of duck food in favour of human flesh. It wouldn’t have to happen often – just once a season or so. Sweeps week seems like a good time to air those episodes.

Unfortunately for everybody though – this is not an ideal world. Puck was never gored by anything, Simon Cowell‘s never suffered a snake attack, and New York‘s mother had a deal fall through where she’d agreed to be pulled to pieces by four horses tied to her extremities. That last one was going to air on VH1, and the deal was for 15 million dollars. Its just what we heard.

One thing TV does have going for it though, at least recently, is that we can all at least watch Duane ‘Dog the Bounty Hunter’ Chapman get shot at. According to CNN:

When a fugitive fired shots at bounty hunter Duane “Dog” Chapman in Colorado Springs, Colorado, Tuesday night, cameras were rolling for his reality TV show, Chapman said. The man, later captured by Chapman’s wife and son, apologized to the Chapmans for shooting at them…[An] attempted murder charge — for shooting while fleeing — will likely be dropped because no gun was found [according to Dog].

When asked how he and his family avoided so many whizzing bullets, Chapman said only that he’d raised his huge mullet into a protective-shield mode where he and his wife his behind. Everyone else just hid behind Mrs. Chapman’s meaty leg.

All of that was very paraphrased, mind you. Or fabricated.

Well this must be a delightful change of pace for Dog. He’s got his show back since he decided not to be racist anymore. Mexico’s decided to let his rat-infested prison sentence slide a bit, and although all native Americans have made it quite clear they don’t want him crashing their tribal parties, Aborigines have given him an open invitation to tour their rain stick factories anytime he’s down under.

That’s who makes rain sticks, right? The Aborigines?

It just looks like a craft they’d be good at.

We thought so.

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The world is split into three: one group hates Denise Richards, one group likes Denise Richards and the other group doesn’t care if Denise Richards lives or dies.

Sadly, none of these groups watch Denise Richards: It’s Complicated. The group that likes her won’t watch it because they don’t like how she’s portrayed in it, the group that hates her won’t watch it because they hate her and the group that doesn’t care won’t watch it because ultimately they’re quite sensible. And that’s why Denise Richards: It’s Complicated is getting cancelled.

Personally we blame the title. Denise Richards: It’s Complicated is both vague and untrue. Denise Richards Exceeds The Most Negative Aspects Of Her Reputation While Simultaneously Doing Her Best To Prove The Opposite would have got the viewers flooding in. But, no, nobody ever listens to us.

If someone told you to go and make a TV show about Denise Richards’ life, there’s an overwhelming chance that you’d have picked one of the following options:

1) Woo Hoo! It’s The Denise Richards Bikini Trampoline Hour!

2) Laptop/Old Lady Discus Eventing With Denise Richards.

3) Denise Richards Apologises For That James Bond Film Directly Into Camera For Up To Six Hours At A Time.

What you wouldn’t make is Denise Richards: It’s Complicated, a reality TV platform for Denise Richards to endlessly bleat about how the media twists everything she says and occasionally sit down with her nephew and have awkward conversations about whether or not he’s ever cracked one off to her threesome scene from Wild Things.

Denise Richards: It’s Complicated came whirling in on a cloud of mad eyed spite-hype and promised to rip the lid of the pointlessly bitter feud that’s raging on between Denise Richards and her ex-husband Charlie Sheen, only for E! viewers to realise that even they didn’t care about Denise Richards to sit through hour after hour of utter tedium to get there.

So Denise Richards: It’s Complicated has been cancelled. Probably. Here’s OK! magazine with more:

“The numbers started out pretty good – just over 1.5 million tuned in for the premiere episode,” a source told The Insider yesterday. “But the audience has dropped off… Viewers were disgusted that a mother of two young girls would use such foul language,” the source adds.

That this news comes at the exact same time that Charlie Sheen has impregnated his new wife and got a massive payrise must be a kick in the teeth for Denise Richards. All she wanted to do was raise her children in the uncomfortable spotlight of the media and now even that unalienable right has been taken away from her.

Who knows what Denise Richards will do next (porn)? She’s a working mother with bills to pay (do porn please) and with her acting career drying up there can’t be many more avenues for her to explore (porn, do porn, for the love of all that’s holy Denise Richards do porn porn porn porn porn).

Anyway, we can survive the loss of Denise Richards: It’s Complicated so long as nobody buggers around with Living Lohan. We don’t know what we’d do if both our favourite reality TV shows about a famous woman with questionable parenting skills that we’ve never watched more than 15 seconds of were cancelled, you see.

Why can’t Britney Spears just decide whether or not she’s actually getting better?

There’s no punchline to that, by the way, it’s just a question. Maybe it’s because of her ridiculous legal fees, or maybe it has any other real reason behind it, but Britney Spears is reportedly in talks for another reality show for MTV.

While we’re not so cynical as to deny there may be genuine reasons for the show, we are cynical enough to expect this to be one of the worst decisions she has ever made. Reality shows aren’t exactly the fast-track to normality that Britney seems to think they are, and her reasons of ‘to get me mah kids back’ isn’t exactly the finest of reasons to put yourself on worldwide public display.

While you’re recovering from a mental breakdown. While your dad has to look after you. While you’re trying desperately not to humiliate yourself publicly again. Someone have a word with the girl, please.

While we were content to see stories of Britney complaining about how much she’s paid to not get her kids back and how much they like her spaghetti (home made sauce, apparently), evidently young Ms Spears isn’t that content. She wants us to be able to laugh at her again – she wants us to mock her, violently.

It’s almost as if she’s read that hecklerspray has been complaining about feeling somewhat sympathetic towards her. It’s very kind of her to try and get some semblance of normality re-established, and it’s especially kind of her to bring us back our Britney-smile which we lost so long ago.

According to monstersandcritics.com:

The proposed programme will focus on Britney’s attempts to get her life and career back on track following her breakdown earlier this year.

So presumably it will focus on Britters as she tries to hock her reality TV show to anyone who will listen, seeing as that seems to be her method of getting her life back on track. How being a star of a reality show is good grounds to give someone their kids back we don’t know, but that seems to be the prevalent thought running through this.

A source told The Daily Star newspaper these words:

“Britney’s dad is furious. He thinks it’s a big mistake and doesn’t want anything to do with it. But Britney thinks it will help her custody battle for her two sons.”

Whereas a ‘pal’ – the Star‘s words, not ours – was as upbeat as one would expect from such a potential development:

“This could turn out to be the biggest car crash television moment of all time.”

Frankly, so long as she doesn’t have any serious mental breakdowns during the show, that could be a very good thing. We all need to be perked up in this post-9/11, credit crunch knife-crime fueled world of war and the lack of basic human rights. So what better way than to laugh at the very public downfall of a celebrity?

Though we would like to offer some constructive criticism for Britney Spears – she could come up with some new material. We mean, we’ve seen her have a public breakdown before, it’s not like this is anything new to the lay person.

Maybe if she happened to have an accident at a toxic waste plant and got herself some superpowers it would have a real draw for the audience, but as it stands it just looks to be the repeated downfall of that one who went out with Kevin Federline. Not ‘great’ TV by anyone’s imagination.