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.

Sometimes it’s hard for pop artists, isn’t it? When Britney feared she was becoming irrelevant, she reached for the bottle labelled “substep” and shaved her head, while J-Lo’s relative obscurity in recent years was remedied by a genuinely insulting and lazy attempts at songs about dancing and drinking too much.

But nothing keeps a musician relevant like an assault charge and an addiction now, does it?

Sarah Harding of Girls Aloud announced today, just after a story about her and boyfriend Theo de Vries kicking lumps out of each other came out this week, that the couple met in rehab for their respective drinking problems. Now, it’s not that we’re taking a pop at recovering addicts and victims of domestic abuse. Far from it. In fact, you go, girl!

The, er, blonde one from the pop group is facing charges of assault after a particularly violent row with said boyfriend on holiday in Austria.

When they should have been skiing, eating Muesli together or enjoying the work of pioneering Austrian filmmaker Sascha Kolowrat (thanks, Wikipedia), they were emptying mini-bars to avoid temptation, but eventually sneaked in some wine and everything ended up ‘a bit Tekken’.

Obviously, domestic abuse is never funny, but it could be just the thing to revive Girls Aloud and Harding’s personal stock.

Look at history: when noted feminist Dr Dre had a hilarious misunderstanding with a female American rapper and “television personality” Dee Barnes in 1991, it didn’t affect his bad-boy image, and he went on to redefine hip-hop. Chris Brown took issue with ex-girlfriend Rihanna, and look at him now; his fan base is unflinchingly loyal (to a genuinely terrifying extent). Harding can even look at her pal Cheryl Tweedy/Cole/Whatever, who went from abuser of toilet attendants to national treasure in less than 5 years. It just works.

So it’s not all bad, Sarah. Just switch to Ribena and stop hanging out with dickheads, and you could be a talent judge in a few years’ time! Great!

This was a guest article by Euan L Davidson who is planning on assaulting as many people as possible in a bid to become the next Joe Swash or something.

Nothing says ‘dead-eyed and desperate’ like Geri Halliwell. She’s a wreck isn’t she? She appears in the public eye like an old mad girlfriend you’d forgotten about, potentially always on the brink of tears.

One eye cries for sorrow, the other cries from joy. It’s a ghastly spectacle, enough to make you slit your wrists, lengthways.

And now, in a bid to remind us that she’s got sex on her mind (thereby stopping every single arousing thought on the planet), the former Spice Girl stripped off to model a line of lingerie she has designed for a British chain.

Geri unveiled her first collection of lacy bras and knickers, which are made entirely from loneliness, madness, regret and sorrow, for Next – the people who make boring work clothes.

Apparently, the collection is due to hit the shops in time for Valentine’s Day in February. That’ll ensure no-one has sex, ever again.

Halliwell says about the whole sorry thing:

“Basically, my aim was to make boobs look bigger and bums smaller! I feel I understand women’s bodies. This was my chance to do the sort of underwear for girls that the boys would like too, if you know what I mean!”

Jesus Christ.

Rumour has it that the bras will emit a palpable sense of desperation, making all suitors convinced that, if they don’t provide you gals with a baby, then they’ll have a suicide attempt on their hands.

Lovely.

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Every six months, like clockwork, an event happens that assures us of the revolution of the earth and the cosmic alignment of the stars bringing summer and winter ever closer. We are referring- of course- to the biannual split of F1 moaner Lewis Hamilton and surprisingly talented ex-Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger.

Yes, as sure as the sun sets in the West, the couple have now moved to end their relationship after 4 years together with Lewis reported to be so upset that he actually considered calling his father before realising he was Paul Di Resta’s dad now, not his.

The split has been blamed on the pair struggling to spend time together due to their hectic work schedules but you’re not really interested in that, are you? You want some completely unfounded muck-raking. Don’t you?

You make us sick.

A source, invented by Now Magazine to pad out their story and recycled by us for exactly the same reason, said;

‘They’ve spoken at length about it but agreed there’s no point as they never see each other… They spend their whole time on opposite sides of the world.’

Irritating, perpetual complainer Hamilton, 26, lives in the Swiss city of Geneva where he spends most of his free time causing avalanches by wailing loudly at the side of a mountain (proving once and for all that no-one has any interest in his opinion on anything), while Scherzinger spends most of her time living a comfortable life in the Hollywood Hills.

Reports from the F1 paddock suggest that Hamilton might have all the time he needs to spend with his estranged lover if he loses his race seat at the end of the year, having spent most of the season flooding the McLaren garage with his petulant, child-like tears.

hecklerspray hopes that the distance excuse is just that and the fact of the matter is that Scherzinger became concerned at the sculpture of Hamilton’s facial hair. The racing driver’s beard has evolved over the years into a phenomenon more closely resembling something drawn by an architecture student with a set-square and an eyeliner pencil.

Despite moving to deny engagement rumours in the summer, their break-up is said to be final. The fictional source went on to say:

‘Although they came to an amicable decision, Nicole is actually devastated about it… She thought Lewis was the one.’

A spokesman for Hamilton declined to comment, but if you listen closely in the dead of night, you’ll be able to hear his despairing wails projected around the world by the Alps.

If you’ve ever been told to stop making a boob of yourself, then usually you’re doing something stupid like stirring a cup of coffee with your wang. Just us? Anyway, in the case of Holly Madison, if she didn’t have her busters, her income would dry up faster than a cream-cracker in the Mojave Desert.

When Holly was growing up, she didn’t want to be a doctor. Instead, her dream was to walk around in hardly any clothing whilst her employee Hugh Hefner furiously rubbed his thighs so much that his shrivelled love stick would get a friction burn.

Unless she has a fetish for pensioners, Holly Madison was one of Hefner’s many paid girlfriends, but now she’s free from wrinkled clutches, she’s being her own woman! Sadly, feminists will be dismayed to hear that she still requires her chest to get through life and has just taken out an insurance plan on her knockers.

Not many people will have had the opportunity to feel a Playboy playmates bosom, but because we vaguely care about our readers, we know how to create an almost identical experience that’ll make you think you’re groping Holly Madison.

Just like most of the hecklerspray writers, we assume that you’re a pathetic and lonely individual who doesn’t have a willing girlfriend who’s prepared to help you out.

To recreate the strange situation of touching Madison’s bazangers, simply go to the kitchen and get two rubber plunger heads filled with pâté, shove them down your t-shirt and let the fondling commence.

You see, Holly Madison isn’t naturally gifted when it comes to the boob department. Overnight, a magic nork fairy didn’t magically enhance her. Instead, she plumped up to a D-cup from an A-cup all thanks to the wonders of silicon. Effectively, all those provocative pictures she’s the star of are making her look like a walking portfolio for the surgeons who sliced her upon and injected her with goo.

Knowing she’s made of plastic that could start to degrade, she said the following about her insurance:

“If anything happened to my boobs, I’d be out for a few months and I’d probably be out a million dollars. I thought I’d cover my assets.”

Cover her assets indeed!

Let’s face it, due to the nature of the business she’s in, covering her assets is the last thing she should do.

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Run! Hide! Duck for cover! Geri Halliwell’s womb is on the prowl and it demands that one of you penis owning plebs puts some swimmers up there to enable her to have a baby, which she’ll cradle and whisper sinisterly to it ’til it runs away from home aged 15.

See, Ginger Spice has split up from boyfriend Henry Beckwith because of his partying lifestyle. Beckwith wants to party like it’s 1999 and Geri wants to sit down like it’s 1957.

And because they were both stuck in different years, the ‘singer’ decided to end their two year relationship. She wants babies. He wants Babycham. It wasn’t ever going to work was it?

Beckwith has an aristocratic name, which is handy because he is indeed a stinking blueblood. For a man who loves to par-tay (he probably says that and not in an ironic way), he was noticeably absent from Geri’s 39th (who is she kidding?) birthday shindig over the weekend, and it appears that it’s all over.

How will we cope? A source, joining in the misery, says:

“Geri came to the realisation that things weren’t going to work with Henry. The age gap meant he had a wandering eye when it came to other women and he was interested in partying. She doesn’t trust him.”

So Beckwith wants sex, fast and loose and Geri wants a brother or sister for four year old daughter Bluebell Madonna, who has the most unfortunate name indeed.

Geri has said in the past:

“I do love being a mum, although I have to say I feel like I am more in my element now that Bluebell is a bit older. I’m enjoying this stage more than the baby part of it because I can interact with Bluebell. It’s great having a daughter.”

See? Babies are rubbish. Todders are king.

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Hugh Hefner is not a happy man. Is it because he sincerely thought Crystal Harris was his true love and there was genuine shock and misery at her jilting him at the altar, before going on to say nasty things about his prowess in the bedroom?

Or is it because his male pride is taking an absolute hammering?

Whatever it is, he’s not about to start taking insults from an air-head like that! No way! So is he coming out fighting and saying that she has unsightly moles on her mons or that she actually has a dozen teats down her stomach like some pig in a boob tube? Of course he isn’t. He’s pointed at his chap and saying ‘Yeah? I totally do sex with it all the time. Like, a million times a day. And all the women can’t walk properly. After I’ve had sex with them I mean. I’m not using my wonder wand on people in wheelchairs. Although I would because I’ve got no problem with them. Can I have a lie down now? A normal one, not a sex one. Thanks. I get ever so tired.’

Anyway, Harris said that the Boob Magnate lasted “two seconds” in the sack, which saw Hefner coming out with boxing gloves on to sort all this out. Alas, he’s so old, that he couldn’t quite lift his hands up into the fighting position, leaving him trying to generate enough moisture from his body to create a solitary tear of frustration.

Well kinda.

What Hef actually did was to say that Harris “lied about our relationship” before going on about how they were at it all the time.

“For the record, I have sex on a weekly basis. And I did throughout my two-and-a-half years with Crystal.”

Crikey. He must be bored to tears of having the old in/out. If he’s done it at least once a week, that’s 52 times a year. Now multiply that by the 39,762 years he’s been on this Earth and… well… we shudder to think how he gets his kicks these days.

It seems variety is the spice of life as Hef added:

“My sex life involves more than one partner and has since the end of my marriage in 1998″

“There’s safety in numbers. When I try to settle down [like I did with] Crystal, I get burned.”

It won’t be too long before a young, nubile woman wants to marry the incredibly wealthy grot vendor, so he’ll be okay. Or dead soon.

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We were all pretty shocked when Crystal Harris decided to ditch Playboy founder, Hugh Hefner, just days before she was due to walk up the altar. They seemed like such a lovely couple. Perfect for each other in fact!

Alas, it wasn’t to be and us mere mortals were denied the greatest love story ever told.

Not that there was much lovin’ going on. See, Crystal has decided to spill the beans on the couple’s sex life… or should we say, lack of it. So little nookie was had that Harris claims that she never even saw Hef naked. As a little treat for her, we’ve decided to share our picture of Hefner with no clothes on with her.

The runaway snide has said that she had never seen the 85-year-old boob mogul sans clothes:

“Hef doesn’t really take off his clothes. I have never seen him naked”

That doesn’t mean she didn’t get bizzay with him though. Of course she did. That’s how she snared him isn’t it? He clearly didn’t like her for ability to keep their sexual antics private.

This could be something to do with the fact that they only had sex once during their two-year relationship, and that it lasted “like about two seconds.”

Lovely. She added, like it was some kind of surprise:

“I just like, walked away. I am not turned on by Hef. Sorry”

Anyone would think this was some kind of cold-eyed, cynical careerist move on her part wouldn’t they? Well, just so she has to endure the same horrors we’ve been enduring, we’re finally leaking our image of Hef naked that we’ve had all these years.

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In Hollywood, it seems that only marriage to a member of the opposite sex will stop people from assuming you’re gay, despite the fact it seems that your member has been in-and-out of a staggering amount of eligible beautiful women. We are, of course, talking about George Clooney, as the headline already told you.

Of course, there’s those of you who will be thinking “Ah! The gay doth protest too much!”, which won’t be helped by the fact that one of Clooney’s mates has pop his head ’round the door and said ‘He’s definitely not gay y’know?’

We didn’t bloody ask if he was! Now you’ve gone and made him look all gay! And now you’ve made us look like his gayditude is something of an issue! PISS OFF.

See, everyone started thumbing at George and saying he was gay because he’s basically too handsome and too unwilling to settle down and have a family with one of the world’s women.

And one of Clooney’s chums is here to say that it’s perfectly normal to not want marriage… because it is. This article is stating the obvious.

Manuele Malenotti, who has a delightfully camp name, introduced Clooney to model Elisabetta Canalis a couple of years ago. Alas, they’ve split up because George is either gay or he doesn’t want to settle down. Or both. We don’t know anymore. Why don’t you leave us alone?

Speaking to some stupid glossy magazine, Manuele says that Canalis isn’t a professional beard (look it up) and that George is 100% getting erections for members of the opposite sex.

I have known George for ten years. Of all the actors I know in Hollywood he is the one I see the most and we have done lots of charity work together. I know about their relationship because I was the one who got them together. George wanted to meet Elisabetta and he asked me to make the introductions.

I did as he asked but inside I always knew that it wouldn’t last – to be honest I was expecting it. You will have to ask them for all the specific reasons.

Really gay specific you mean?

All I can say is that George, when it comes to love, has decided that he is not going to get married again and he is not going to have any children and he won’t change his mind…  big stars like George need people by their side to help them and they are always under immense pressure. For a partner it’s never easy because everybody has their own requirements.

Like having sex with members of their own gender? He’s something of a ‘Dapper Dan Man’. Does that even make sense as a slur?

To suggest it was a publicity stunt is a lie. I introduced them, I saw them together and I can say that their love story was very intense. In two years they shared numerous moments. I can also tell you that I have known George for ten years, I have spent a lot of time with him and a lot of women have passed through his life. You never know in life, and men are having an identity crisis but I can tell you George is not gay.

WE DON’T ACTUALLY CARE. PLEASE STOP.

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Hugh Hefner has invented a cloning machine. We’re presupposing as much because yet another girlfriend has been added to Hugh’s arsenal of glorified ladies of the night. Ever heard of November 2011 Playboy Playmate Shera Bechard? No? Us neither.

A little too old for his tastes, we think, Shera is the 27-year-old new girlfriend of the 85-year-old smut-peddler. Yes, that’s another one since last Monday when he confirmed that Anne Sophie Berglund and the Shannon twins were back in his harem.

In what reads like the world’s most convoluted ploy for publicity, Hugh has used the break-up with Crystal Harris to pimp his forthcoming Playboy issues and the latest non-descript blonde who’s going to age out within a year.

Into his cloning device, Hugh puts thongs, botox, implants, and too much bleach. Clearly, the machine’s in need of fine tuning. None the less, it’s a work of sheer wizardry. All you would need is some ointment to soothe the itch from the nasties picked up in the literally filthy mansion and you would have a party in a box.

Speaking of boxes, being too literal for our own good, Hugh patronizingly called Anna his ‘one in a million… darling… best girl’ only last week.

This week, he added Shera. ‘Shera is both our November 2011 Playmate & my new girlfriend,’ Hugh told a Twitter follower on Monday.

Seeing this, his new plaything, with fully adjustable limbs, wrote that she ‘really does love’ the man with whom she has been enjoying early bird dinners.

This was a guest post by Amy Grindhouse, so three stinkin’ cheers for that.

Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz have got married! Isn’t that adorable? As you know, we’ve been rooting for these guys for pretty much forever. And finally, after what has felt like ‘a very long time’ – the pair secretly got married in New York State last night, with only four very close family members as witnesses. AW GUYS! One slight problem.

SINCE WHEN HAVE RACHEL WEISZ AND DANIEL CRAIG SO MUCH AS LOOKED AT EACH OTHER LET ALONE FALLEN IN LOVE AND HAD ‘ROMANTIC RELATIONS’? (Sex.)

Not even pinnacles of celebrity journalism nosy parkers Daily Mail got wind of an engagement of any sort, although they did mention that ‘they saw Daniel and Rachel holding hands once’. Blush.

So, now that we all do know about it – we can get about six months worth of judgement of their relationship out the way now.

Okay? Do Rachel Weisz and Daniel Craig make a good celebrity couple?

Here are a couple of pointers to properly deduce that.

PORTMANTEAU AVAILABILITY

3/10

Brangelina sounds so amazingly twattish, that it remains the top benchmark for any celebrity couple headline, followed closely by Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez’ of ‘Bennifer’ fame. Brownie points go to Paris Hilton for blowing everybody’s minds by actually going out with someone called Paris for a while, and it being TRUE LOVE all at the same time.

As far as Rachel and Daniel go, there is no legitimate pun that properly meshes their names, which as we know – is the measure for true, uncharted love. Even Victoria Beckham’s adoration for her bobbed haircut, ‘The Pob’ managed to ruthlessly burn away any memory of an demented ’80s childhood puppet. Bitch.

Basically, Daniel and Rachel’s first names make ‘Rachel’, so it’s a gradual descent from here on in. ‘Craiz’ is the best one we’ve managed to muster so far. And it’s lousy. Someone email it to the 3am Girls just in case though. In terms of films the pair have both starred in, there is not much luck there either.

ABOUT A (WEDDING) JOY! THE NAME’S MARRIED! JAMES MARRIED RACHEL WEISZ, THAT IS!

LORD ASRIEL MEETS HIS SAPHIRA (From that film Eragon)

Hopeless.

ATTRACTIVENESS RATIO

7/10

Depends if you fancy boys or girls, really. But if you can properly adopt the Antony Costa Rules of Love for this situation, (ie: ANYBODY WILL DO) you can begin to appreciate that Daniel is only really attractive in that sort of ripped ‘shame about the face’ kind of way.

We’ve seen what Rachel Weisz would look like if she had cancer, and being mounted by Hugh Jackman in a bath, and we’d still tap that. (A heterosexual woman is writing this article.)

Also, when you look like an ugly version of your own ugly lookalike, that definitely puts things into perspective.

IN COMPARISON TO PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS

DANIEL – 2/10
RACHEL – 8/10

This one is pretty straight forward. Both of the parties were married with children for long periods of time prior to their current relationship. Daniel Craig was with a film producer Satsuki Mitchell for a long time, and she seems quite lovely from photos. This is based on a flowery dress, and not much else.

Rachel of course was famously married to Darren Aronofksy for 8 years, which was one of those awesome director/actor relationships which always ended in *wavy hand* movies when they actually worked together. Such as Sam Mendes and Kate Winslet’s Revolutionary Road, and Rachel and Darren’s The Fountain. Both enjoyable films, but its probably fair to say that ultimately, we still enjoyed Len Wiseman and Kate Beckinsale’s Underworld movies more.

Okay, that’s a lie.

Although -

No, it was a lie.

PROBABILITY THAT THEY EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER

2/10.

Congratulations Daniel and Rachel!

This post was written by Sophie Hall who is a master of magic, spells and illusion. Enemies grumble with fear and confusion.

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There was a distinct dampness in the air around the world last night. Meteorologists struggled to explain the phenomenon which seemed to emanate from the Hollywood hills. However, when it was officially announced that Hollywood heart-throb and all round photogenic guy George Clooney and his girlfriend Elisabetta Canalis had parted ways the meteorologists were allowed to go home as the explanation was suddenly self-explanatory.

The actor, who played Danny Ocean in the surprisingly good remake of Ocean’s 11 (and its subsequent awful successors), and the Italian actress who began dating two years ago, issued a joint statement declaring that they were “not together any more” which will no doubt lead to a surge in the number of missing women the world over as they run away to stalk the chiselled star.

Something that we all have to remember is that George might need some time to get over his split with his girlfriend. We don’t want to see you all running out and getting divorces because something better’s finally come along. There’s no guarantee that George would even touch you, let alone give you one. Let’s bear that in mind before you get all nutty.

Of course, you don’t really care about that, do you? You don’t even care about our vaguely humourous if slightly sweeping generalisation that all women want to sleep with George Clooney, do you? You just clicked on this story to see a picture of George Clooney, didn’t you? Fine.

Is that better? Would you like to read an extract from the statement now? Can you even focus on what we’ve written? The former couple added:

“It’s very difficult and very personal and we hope everyone can respect our privacy.”

Shortly after meeting, the couple were photographed riding a motorbike near Lake Como. That’s not important, we just thought that the inclusion of some attractive scenery might take your mind off his chiselled features but you’re just imagining lying by the side of a picturesque lake with him aren’t you? Christ.

He has a villa on the lake. Probably with a view of the glittering blue water. Your mind’s gone into something from a Mills & Boon novel now, hasn’t it?

We give up. There’s no point in trying to get you lot to pay attention if you’re just going to daydream.

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You remember Paris Hilton, don’t you? Come on readers. Try a bit harder. She’s that night vision girl that you’ve seen performing fellatio on a man with no personality. No? She’s tall… blonde… denser than the singularity of a black hole? No? Really? She’s the heir to the Hilton hotel chain and- frankly- if you still don’t remember who she is then you might as well click on the little ‘x’ in the corner of your browser and save us all some trouble.

However, after a year spent only riding one penis as though it’s a disappointed bucking bronco, Hilton and her boyfriend of a year and a half Cy Waits have ”amicably” decided to end their relationship.

Still- no relationship really ends amicably, does it? Sure, you can try to remain friends and make sure that the people closest to you don’t have any sense of awkwardness or worse, feel as though they have to pick sides but regardless of these efforts, someone always comes out of it badly and looking like a petty scumbag.

We wouldn’t normally mention that fact but it’s one that might be worth looking back on when we’re still hearing about every minute detail of this poor bugger’s inadequacy in three month’s time.

The 30-year-old socialite and popstar (or so her publicist would have you believe) has reached the mutual decision with her Las Vegas club owner boyfriend Cy. Yes. Cy. Without looking him up, we’re assuming it stands for Cyrus which proves that getting laid isn’t all about your name.

The couple, who were last week said to be “re-evaluating” their relationship, have supposedly made the decision to part ways because “Cy” can’t cope with Paris’ celebrity lifestyle. According to the hecklerspray lawyers, ‘celebrity lifestyle’ should not be taken as being a euphemism for 64 hour gang-bangs in which Paris is the only person who leaves without any traumatic sense of shame.

According to ‘sources’, “Cy” found it difficult to live his life with her in the spotlight and that’s what caused their split. Ironically, he apparently didn’t realise that going out with a woman who’s famous for being a talentless intellect vacuum might involve a slight invasion of his privacy. The self-same ’source’ told US Weekly:

“They are broken up. It’s sad, she cares about him a lot and thinks he’s a great guy but they really hit a rough patch.”

The pair have been dating for over a year and a half, but Cy was said to be particularly upset about their private lives being shown in her new reality TV show ‘The World According to Paris’ (which absolutely no-one should watch as stupidity is infectious). An insider who is likely to be the same junior publicist as the afore-mentioned ‘source’ said:

“Cy is very upset with the series. He felt that way too much of their private life was shown. When he signed on to do the show, he had no idea the cameras would be so invasive.”

Speaking about their relationship in the weeks leading up to the split, Paris revealed she would get engaged on the series if “Cy” was to pop the question. She said:

“We are so happy. It’s almost been a year and a half now so we’ll see what happens, but the show is going to show everything, so when that happens it will be on the show.”

It could easily be alleged that Paris ended her relationship on the advice of her “people” who would be of the opinion that her splitting up from her current oddly-named beau would add a depth to the series that a dim-witted blonde with all the mental capacity of the Graf Zeppelin could’t muster up off her own back.

Of course- that would be immensely cynical of us, regardless of how true it might be.

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It takes a lot of work to be described as a legend. You have to be dedicated to what you do and do it well for years of your life. Eventually, your achievement is such that your creation will be on any imaginable number of products that make less and less sense. Imagine your logo on bottle openers and the front of thongs! Imagine! The logo that has become synonymous with the objectification of women or, as others like to think of it, baps and bush.

Imagine you created that. Imagine you’re Hugh Hefner. Just take thirty seconds and imagine that. Have you lost your erection and/or heightened state of sexual arousal? Yes, of course you have.

Shrivelled titfid Hugh Hefner is reported to have moved on from ex-fiancée Crystal Harris,  despite their engagement only ending last week. The renowned smoking jacket wearer is said to have been so aroused by his new ‘target’ that he almost managed to allow enough blood to rush to his flaccid member to allow its non-artificial engorgement. That’s love in the Playboy Mansion.

According to Popeater, the Playboy founder has sparked a romance with Anna Sophia Berglund, better known as this year’s Playboy ‘Miss January’. You might not know her as that, given that you’ve probably yanked your way through five more months by now and have forgotten what she looks like.

“It’s clear Hef has moved on to Anna,” a source claimed while faking climax. The source went on to claim that they had been part of seven-way where Hefner had screamed “GET OFF HER!” at a moment of orgasm which, hecklerspray is led to believe, is the accepted sign that Hef has taken a shine to one of the girls.

Berglund has apparently moved into Hefner’s bedroom, and the two were said to have been kissing and cuddling throughout a recent movie night at the mansion but there was no mention of anything else – thank god.

Earlier this week Crystal Harris called off her engagement to Hefner less than a week before their wedding. Sources close to Harris claimed that the constant female presence in the Playboy mansion had played a significant part in her decision to end the engagement. Celebrity commentators have all let out a collective “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Harris is also said to have been alarmed by the Pope’s recent appearance on a balcony.

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In perhaps the most shocking news of… well… an entire generation of human beings, Hugh Hefner’s relationship with Crystal Harris is over. Who would have ever thought that those two – one a similar age to fossil fuels, the other a 25 year old with dollar signs in her eyes – wouldn’t work out?

And all this happened 5 days before their wedding, which was going to be entirely pink.

Shame. We would have liked to see Hef in a pink tux, struggling to stay on his feet for the duration of a wedding service while a young woman stood beside him, licking her lips seductively at Hugh’s younger pals.

The Playboy founder, mournfully caressing his penis pump, acknowledged the split via Twitter yesterday. Harris also came out with a statement:

“After much deep reflection and thought, I have decided to end my engagement with Hef. I have the utmost respect for Hef and wish him the best going forward.”

Going forward? The poor old coot is so ancient that he’s probably only got a matter of days to live. And a woman call Crystal had decided to stomp on his heart, which resembled dried fruit covered in dust anyway.

You heartless, grinning monster.

So who is she looking at for a ride instead? Well, people are coughing the name Jordan McGraw, but Harris’ rep says this is a “complete fabrication.” Besides, what’s the betting that Hef wouldn’t really mind if she played away? It seems likely that Hefner would like to get married and still enjoy the nubile gals of his Playboy Mansion, even if it does take him around 3 months to get something close to an erection.

Another rumour is that Crystal wanted more than her “couple hundred dollar” weekly allowance from Hugh (which is achingly sweet… we reckon that Hef still thinks you can buy a house for $1,000 and that cola still has cocaine in it) which was hampering her dreams of a singing career.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Still, we imagine Hugh will be generating a single, solitary tear tonight (which, thanks to the lack of moisture in his ancient body, will probably see him lose a limb) before he has his Ovaltine and switches on his electric blanket.

The greatest love-affair the world ever knew is finally over. Love is dead.

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