Spice Girls fans! Rejoice in your wasted lives because it seems like the Spice Girls are coming back! …Again.
Former Spicer Geri Halliwell, famous for such solo hits as ‘Mi Perro Latino’, about a latin dog and the one where she was dead in the video, has claimed that the Spice Girls could be due for another money-spinning reunion.
Actually, that’s totally unfair. While most groups end up reuniting out of a love of crack cocaine and cold hard cash, the Spice Girls appear to be coming out of retirement to celebrate the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.
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People of the World, spice up your life, as Madhur Jaffrey advised us. And now, ladies, spicing up your life is even easier, because singer/author/actress/thin Geri Halliwell has finally done what everyone presumed she would have done years ago and released a range of clothes inspired by the iconic Union Jack dress she popped out of during the ’98 Brit Awards.
Peddling her wares through Next, she is hoping to capitalise on a bumper year for angry British men, uniting British pride through the Olympics (where the Union Jack will be more common than people complaining about traffic and foreigners), raising the profile of the Spice Girls, who will allegedly appear at the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee (groan) and the upcoming race for the best beachwear on the High Street.
Sounds dreadful doesn’t it?
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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.
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A dominant role in society is something that everybody craves. As you’re reading this, you’ll be imagining who the head honcho is in your boring office job, group of friends or members in the AA club.
What kind of person becomes a leader? Is it the bloke who makes all sorts of hilarious wisecracks? Or that weird looking sod who never gets involved, but always offers sound advice?
But who cares about real life people when there are celebs everywhere! Are we concerned that we’ll never meet them after spending thousands of pounds on travel so we can gawp at them? Of course not. So who’s scorching hot and who’s totally not? According to InStyle the top honour has gone to someone who can’t feed herself properly. Not Paris Hilton, but Harper Seven Beckham.
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Clearly, the United Kingdom has learned no lessons from Eurovision. We won’t ever win because people ‘vote’ enough for us through the year, buying our many exported pop acts. Eurovision is a chance for these countries to show rightful contempt for us and, of course, celebrate their own.
Instead of playing a sob story like we endure on the likes of The X Factor and the like, we have started sending known acts in the misguided hope that they’ll pick up votes. Blue deservedly bombed thanks to being one of the most odious collections of men since Mugabe put a 5-a-side team together.
And next year, it looks like we’re set to send more pampered divs to the slaughterhouse as it appears that the Spice Girls will be going to Eurovision in 2012.
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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?
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This weekend has been Baby Weekend, with a myriad of slebs all dropping sprogs. Matt Bellamy and Kate Hudson have had one, but no-one really cares about a Goldie Hawn’s daughter and a singer who looks like his whole face has been pinched in a vice every morning for the last two decades.
No, the big celebrity baby story of the weekend is David and Victoria Beckham’s little girl. She was cut out of the former Spice Girls’ stomach, to protect her tiny papercut of a front-bum from being stretched to snapping point, leaving her with one famous orifice.
And of course, they needed a name for this little bundle of potential let-down… and they’ve gone for Harper Seven.
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Victoria Beckham is having a baby and we’re supposed to give a flying fuck. No, we are. See, even though we won’t ever meet her, like anything she does or indeed, show even the vaguest flicker of interest in her vapid life, we must greet her new child with ticker tape. And hand grenades if you like.
We just don’t care.
We also don’t care that Posh Spice, which we’ll call her because it invariably irritates her, has asked stupid Eva Longoria to be the Godmother of her unborn daughter. A daughter that will, like all newborn babies, will look like a cross between a glans and a close-up of a tick.
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