God, look at you all.

Sat there in your ostentatious Ivory Towers looking down on us in our hecklerspray hovel as we scrap around trying to pick a living from the meagre bones of underweight celebrities. You sit in judgement of us like a Feudal Lord views his peasants with seeming omniscience.

You sit there with your lucky dip box at the ready, it loaded with randomly generated insults and put-downs designed to make us feel like the lowest of the low, like the dog dirt on the shoe of the internet, like Tim Westwood. Your words are designed to cut, to hurt but are said with the best interests at heart. You want to protect your favourite celebrity because you know- deep down- that they’re too disinterested or stupid to defend themselves.

That’s where Readers’ Letters comes in. Every week we plunge our heads into the faeces clad Water Closet of the hecklerspray bedsit and extract from its odious bowels the hecklerspray Post Bag. It’s enough to make a porn star gag and yet we do it for you as a public service.

A community service, if you will. Ordered by the courts to pay off libel charges.

So here it is. This week’s delve through the detritus.

The internet. It’s so full of homophobes that you’d think it was like a giant, multi-billion-user British National Party meeting. The constant slew of comments coming from graduates of the Youtube School of Intelligent Thought is enough to make your blood boil until it resembles a fine Port. Take this example. You see, homophobes really like to drive home their point by making it in every available space:

The word ‘gay’ appears in an insulting tone a whopping seven times in a three word comment. To all of you, there is only this message. Being gay isn’t something that should be seen as an insult. It’s not insulting to be called gay. It’s just… not.

Of course, sometimes the homophobes manage to dress their homophobia up as a social commentary. In the case of Diane Richardson (her home address is not available at request), she’s chosen to stand in complete opposition to reasonable thought:

Gays have no right to inhibit free speech or define gay. Who do they think they are? Answer: Nobody! Some people ARE born gay I’ve witnessed this in my own family but a huge majority are gay by CHOICE, for instance poor men. Many poor men perform gay sex acts on men for money and in prison heterosexual men have forced and consensual sex with each other. After they’re released they go home to their women. (gross) Anne Heche (loved her hair) was gay for a while.
Sandusky, Bernie Fine , Eddie Long (all GOP) and other pedophiles are GAY because they engaged in sex with underage and adult males. Gays spent a lot of energy trying to convince everyone that pedophiles were straight. Fail! These guys had sex with boys and young men.

Well, there you go then. Here at hecklerspray, we like to start with the really vitriolic crap before we lapse into a more relaxed meander through the scores of people that despise us, not an entire group of people. It’s easier that way.

Speaking of people that absolutely despise us, Libertines fans have been sitting with their thumbs in their mouths, desperately hoping that someone would care enough to write an article about them and hark! Someone did. What did the article say? Does that matter when it provoked so much fury from One Eyed Jacks?

Worst article ever from a talentless author without any sensitivity for good lyrics and musicality.

Hmm… maybe he hasn’t heard The Libertines before. Still, fans of ‘The Mad-Libs’ aren’t the only group of righteous, entitled git-pots to get in touch this week. Earlier, Editor Mof flippantly mentioned Toni Braxton‘s numerous bankruptcy claims in an article about Whitney Houston’s moaning coupon and prompted furious scenes amongst Toni’s fan base.

Read that again.

Toni Braxton’s fan base.

We know. Give yourself a moment to take it in before you read what Brittani had to say:

You should really get your facts straight about Toni Braxton before you start speaking negative about her. That is pure ignorance! Don’t ever talk about Toni again unless it’s on a positive note! Shame on you! You shouldn’t be talking about Whitney either but I guess some people just have nothing else to do with their life but judge others…

Err… right. Sorry. We’ll never talk about Toni Braxton again. She can go on the pile of ‘Celebrity Irrelevancies That We Can’t Mention Because They’re Too Cripplingly Dull” along with Timmy Mallet and Sylvester Stallone’s Mum. It’s the only honour she’s ever likely to win again. This promise didn’t deter Richard though:

There was no need to use Toni Braxton’s name in this article, especially in a vicious mean way, you need to hope you never find yourself sick and in financial trouble, since you seem to think you’re better than others. Quite a shame.

Thanks for hoping that we never find ourselves in financial trouble! Would you be willing to help us out by setting up donations of just £4 a month that would allow Euan Davidson & Miss Robotnik to feed their monstrous cocaine habits? Anything you can give would help.

Let’s face it, everyone’s in financial trouble and we only have Toni Braxton to blame. Still, if you need someone else to blame, why don’t you try everyone’s favourite sexual pariah? No, it’s not Gary Glitter, it’s Caroline Flack! You already know that she’s limping through faked orgasms with human libido Harry Styles but did you know that someone calling themselves Harry Styles left a comment on our articles.

As usual with this kind of thing (see the Readers’ Letters Tom Hardy Special), we can only assume that the comment is from the floppy-haired-erection-monster and treat the comment with the necessary respect.

Harry styles is a cute nice boy Caroline you need a life touching body parts of q 17 year old you could be his mother you fucking idiot get a life and a real boyfriend and if you to get so serious the whole world will hate you Caroline and Harry one direction would be over and bye bye to your fans and Harry I am saying this for you I love your music and you

Harry Styles: demonstrable egomaniac. Not only is he a certified narcissist, he’s also criticising Caroline Flack for her love of tossing him off behind the bike sheds. Oh wait. Hang on. Maybe this isn’t Harry Styles talking about himself in the third person but some jealous One Direction fan who spends 3 hours of every day ‘worshipping’ their Harry Styles doll.

Still, at least worshipping a Harry Styles doll is closer to human contact than being in love with a video game. Yes, the announcement of Resident Evil 6 has seen accidental ejaculations all across the gaming world with one fan’s excitable eruption registering as a 2.3 magnitude Earthquake. The comment below- from Sasha- is indicative of the kind of response our article garnered from Capcom’s verbose and witty fan base.

”’_”’ ???_??? ^^^_^^^ “””_””” $$$_$$$ %%%_%%%** (LOL)** I LOVE U RESDENT EVIL

Moving away from video games and on to TV now as yet more comments pour in on our article which compares The Office with its American counterpart. The sporadic running battles on this comments section have largely turned into a series of vitriolic, xenophobic rants. Like Up Yours, who shoved a flaming envelope through our letterbox before flying home on a nuclear missile.

hey I bet this was some british fuck doing this review its cool to have country pride but just remember the AMERICAN REVOLUTION…… america!!!!! so quit being byes you uk fuck ….the office america wins this thats why it lasted 8 seasons …. suck that…you BOSTON TEA PARTY FUCK

TO ARMS, MEN! THE AMERICANS ARE COMING BACK FOR ROUND TWO! Of course, we’d usually moan about the fact that this article was written three years ago and have a good ol’ chuckle at the idiocy of the man who still believes this argument is relevant. However, given that our friend doesn’t appear to operate in the same area of time-space as us, that line would be redundant. This guy believes the Tea Party has just happened. This man is from the past.

ALL HAIL THE TIME LORD!

Before we all bow down in glorious acquiescence to our new ruler, we’ll leave you with this. Someone didn’t like us having a laugh at Drake’s expense.

Wow this is the worst article ever. Seriously. Kill yourself.

This can be roughly translated as:

Everyone who doesn’t like the same thing I like should either kill themselves or be murdered because my opinion is correct on every single point of minutiae.

So cheers for that, Comrade Stalin.

Until next week, our Semen-Stained Overlords.

When 50 Cent released an album called ‘Get Rich Or Die Tryin”, no-one really suspected that what he actually meant was, at some point, he’d get so bored of being a rapper that he’d just give up living.

We’re not talking about suicide here, rather, just the complete lack of will to stay alive. He’s got rich, now he’s not bothered about breathing anymore.

And 2012 has seen Fiddy talking about just that. He just wants to stop everything. He’s had enough.

In a series of tweets, Pifty Cent (the world’s first and foremost deaf rapper) has expressed his disappointment with the world of music and has vowed to cease any self-promotion for new music releases.

“I have lost all the faith in the team I’m on. I having nothing left to say I will not be promoting my music.”

He will still release his fifth album with Interscope, but he really couldn’t care less about it.

“I’m going to deliver this album. Then I have a film I wrote to focus on. I’m not upset, I’m just convinced this is not how I want to remembered”

Remembered? Why, is he going to be dead soon? Seems so:

“I’ll be honest I don’t think I’m gonna live much longer. That’s why I started my street king movement. I want to mean more in other people”s lives.”

Just stop rapping for a start. Seriously. It sounds like you have a penis in your mouth all the time. He doesn’t does he?

Well hello there, and good tidings! But let’s just cut the small-talk here before things get all chatty-chatty like what those baby lesbians do off Coronation Street. So, Janet Jackson’s awful.  

Hear that, Great Britain? Here that, Janet Jackson’s official fan club underneath all the wild babble?

Oh, quiet down at the front ? JanFan47?! Cease and desist 1nPHATuation! (Amazing.) PIPE DOWN Janhova_Troll_Slayer! Not our words! No! We’d never flirt with incessant mockery and combine that with the Jackson family, what with all that pain and despair they’ve been harboring these past few years.

No, these are the harsh, cruel, ill-judged vibes of PETA of course. That’s the one. Bitch-eyes from the furries. Tut tut. Ohnoshedidn’t. Holy Things That Matter Entirely, Batman. All that.

After designing a (admittedly quite real-fur specific) fashion label BlackGlama, Janet has been called up for her crimes against all the adorable little swans and herons she’s been murdering grumpily whilst rolling her eyes and muttering about glass ceilings, The Klumps, and cardiologists that dawdle, and been told by the PETA to “GRR STOPIT WE DON’T LIKE HOW FAMOUS AND NASTY YOU ARE.”

Or if you’re hankering for something a tad more specific:

‘When Janet Jackson had her infamous wardrobe malfunction during Super Bowl XXXVIII, at least what popped into view of 170 million onlookers belonged to her, unlike the animal skins she drapes herself in, which are as dead as her fashion taste and her career.’

What, Justin Timberlake’s odium? Oh, right her nipples. Oh, let us off, it’s the end of the year.

Hmm. This doesn’t really make sense at all, really. Does she…win? Is that it? Did Janet Jackson win at PETA?

Oh, well in that case, that’s wonderful! Congratulations Janet. Especially when you must have had stiff competition from our own UK genocide attempts.

 *Sigh*

If anybody tells you that car boot sales and charity shops are pointless, they clearly don’t know what they’re talking about. Nothing beats the wonders of rummaging through boxes on a cold early morning with a ropey £1 polystyrene cup of tea whilst searching for hidden gems.

The high street charity shop is a haven for those sourcing everything from old records to a piece of clothing that would sell for bucket loads in a vintage boutique. Granted, someone might have died in the blazer you’re donning for a night out, but a few washes and squirt of Lynx Africa will cover that death musk.

Whilst second hand goods of the common man and woman change hands for a handful of pounds, the rules change when famous people are involved. One particular auction has been on the cards for ages with Michael Jackson extremists squealing in their droves as they get the chance to own items that they probably already have.

One of the more bizarre items that was rumoured to have been up for sale was the bed where poor Michael Jackson did his last boogie in. After Dr. Conrad Murray had administered a dose of sexy medical help and had been unable to save him, the bed could have wound up as a weird shrine to Jackson nutters everywhere.

In a way, we’re sad that it wasn’t up for auction. We’d have just published rumours that if 10,000 litres of tears where poured on the bed, the ghost of Jackson would reappear. Thrilling.

The pre-auction estimate of what was on offer ranged from $200,000 to $400,000 which would have filled the pockets of the Jackson estate quite well. Instead, this figure was blown out of the water with the final total being close to $1million. For that amount of money, Joe Jackson could customise all of his famous beating belts with the finest gemstones in the world. So what exactly was on offer?

“A kitchen chalkboard where Jackson’s children wrote ‘I love daddy,’ which sold for $5,000, and an armoire upon which Jackson wrote a message to himself on the mirror that fetched $25,750.”

It’s important to note that the chalkboard came from one of Jackson’s kids and not from one of his alleged child abuse victims when he bought their love with Jesus Juice and extreme sleepovers. However, it does make us wonder what a chalkboard with a message saying “HELP, HE TOUCHED MY SPECIAL AREA” would be worth.

Whilst it might seem creepy that someone purchased items with personal family messages on, you can always count on Michael Jackson weirdness to go that one extra step:

“The headboard from the bed where Jackson died at age 50 was removed from the auction at the family’s request, but the rug that was beneath the bed sold for $15,360. The estimate had been $400 to $600.”

Yeah! Maximum respect for the headboard there. Who knows what someone would do it if they purchased it? Christ, they might replace it with their bedroom rug, so that  Michael can almost be watching over them whilst they sleep and search for the sweetest of dreams. Who wouldn’t want their very own drug addicted skin morphing guardian angel looking after them?

With the auctions all over, how refreshing is it to know that grown adults will be going to bed and cuddling objects that Michael Jackson either touched, licked, rubbed or got aroused over?

They say that everyone deserves a second chance to learn from their mistakes. Or if you happen to have an ounce of intelligence, not copying the moves of those that led to their downfall.

One of the greatest examples of cocking-up a childhood comes from no-other than the Jackson family. Whilst we were left marvelled and amazed at the family’s dance moves, they were secretly hurting inside thanks to regular whippings from father Joe. Missing out on childhood clearly affected Michael, so you’d assume that his three children would be ushered away from showbiz? Oh, how wrong you’d be.

Thankfully, Paris looks like she’s decided to venture away from singing and head towards Hollywood. Yep! She’s going to be in a film! Good thing the movie industry hasn’t got a record of dark deeds and conspiracy, eh?

Despite not seeing any pages of script or knowing what the film is about, we can guarantee you that the movie will be rubbish. How do we know that? Well we haven’t consulted a fortune teller, but instead, we just looked at the title. It’s called “Lundon’s Bridge and the Three Keys,” there’s a glaring typo that’s more obvious than a streaker at a football match.

Nearly everyone in the whole wide world knows that London Bridge is a hotspot for tourists when they visit England. So misspelling a capital city is something that should make the producers cringe since we’ve now brought it to their attention.

People will probably argue with us that there’s nothing wrong with a young teenage girl embracing her talent that can be enjoyed by the world. But then again, Lindsay Lohan started off in films such as the “Parent Trap” as a youngster before the yummy substances took over. Even the magic of Disney couldn’t stop Miley Cyrus taking her clothes off and smoking bongs. So what will “Lundon’s Bridge and the Three Keys,” have in store for Paris Jackson before she starts a death cult?

“The film’s website says she plays heroine in a story where magic “turns a dolphin into a human, a teenage boy into a dragonfly and a loving jellyfish queen into an evil fairy godmother.”

Things turning into stuff? Sounds like the sort of mental stuff that Michael Jackson would’ve seen when he was getting a sexy dose of brain altering drugs from Dr. Conrad Murray. But even we assume that she’d probably not want to appear in a film that reminded her of her father’s death.

Even if the film is a load of donkey scrotum, you’ll be guaranteed that it’ll be a box office smash due to mentalist Michael Jackson fans going to see “Lundon’s Bridge and the Three Keys,” at least seventy times a day.

So, you and your stupid family are thinking about having a nice day out together. You don’t want to. You’d rather sit in and watch TV. However, some nagging guilt tells you there’s a world outside, so you make the gesture to others in a bid to make you look like you give a hoot about them.

So where do you go? A theme park? A wildlife sanctuary? A stroll around a vast meadow? A place of historical significance? Banger racing?

OF COURSE NOT YOU BLITHERING RAT BRAIN! There’s only one place worth going to these days, and that’s Michael Jackson’s death house! That’s right! Now that Jacko’s house has been opened to the public, you can stick your nose into the possessions of the recently deceased! Isn’t that wonderful?

So will we all be able to look at the sheets he died on? Will we be able to point and cluck at the stained rug which he took some of his final breaths on? Perhaps we’ll be able to gurgle in the direction of his Propofol cupboard?

Not likely. See, the contents of the Bell Air mansion go under the hammer this week, which means that we could potentially find ourselves stood in an empty house, accompanied only by weeping Michael Jackson fans and the smell of death.

That said, if you’re the kind of cheeky scamp who is determined enough (or, if you prefer, ‘mental’) to get into his house and feel like you’re ‘near him’, you could go down under the pretence of looking at the auction pieces.

Many of the items there will no doubt have been touched by Jackson, so by merely standing by them, you’ll be able to cry loads and feel the will to be charitable grow in your stomach, which in turn, will make you cry even more at all the suffering in the world.

And of course, the fact that a very, very wealthy man managed to spunk loads of his money on a funfair and painkillers as opposed to, y’know, wiping out the third world debt with a waft of his expensive sequinned glove.

Still. DEATH EH? Wooo!

At the moment, ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray will be inside a jail cell, confined to a space that’ll make him feel like an animal at the zoo. Last week, justice was delivered to Michael Jackson’s former doctor as punishment for his the star’s manslaughter.

Four years was the term handed down by the judge who deemed Murray a danger to society. Unless he ran around America striking people with hepatitis tipped syringes, he seemed okay in our book. After all, he hadn’t killed anyone before or practised voodoo magic rituals.

Then again, Murray always had an uphill battle as this wasn’t a case against a normal member of society. This was Michael Jackson, a bloke who was famous around the world. Not just for his singing, but his face morphing ability and reliance on painkillers. As expected, this trial rolls on with Dr. Conrad Murray set to protest his innocence.

Taking over two years to come to trial, the whole Dr. Conrad Murray vs the Jackson Estate trial felt extremely weird. Whilst it’ll always be sad that one of the world’s greatest entertainers has died, it does seem that the Jackson family pocketed from the loss.

Millions of pounds have been generated from basics such as record sales and money will have been set aside for his children, but what about the rest? Has it gone to charity? Mental Michael Jackson fans tell us he was in debt due to charitable donations. Something tells us that it’ll be used to bump up the accounts of other family members. The whipping belt collection of Joe Jackson might be set to expand.

One such person to benefit from the vast wealth of Michael Jackson was Dr. Conrad Murray. With a wage of £90,000 a month that was, ironically enough, never received, he had one basic job of keeping the singer alive. Granted, he didn’t do a good job of that, but when someone as powerful as Jackson demands drugs that only a doctor could get, what would you do? Yup, we’d do the same and dole ‘em out despite the fact they could probably knock down a dozen elephants.

Many people are looking at theory that Dr. Conrad Murray was made out to be a scapegoat in the whole messy situation which is a fair point. After all, we didn’t see Janet, Tito, Jermaine or Randy around that often. According to reports:

“He disagrees with the jury’s findings and the pretrial rulings made by the court,’ defence lawyer. Murray filed the appeal in ‘pro per’, which means he is representing himself rather than using an attorney.”

In today’s economic climate, a lot of people carry out two jobs. But to be a lawyer and a doctor? Crikey, Dr. Conrad must be one intelligent bloke to be able to that. But before anyone starts praising him for going in alone and defending his corner, this whole incident could have been avoided as:

“Murray declined to testify during his trial but participated in a documentary in which he said he didn’t consider himself guilty of any crime and blamed Jackson for entrapping him into administering the drug.”

Looks like he’s a comedian as well. We pray that he can somehow get on the next series of Celebrity Big Brother. The sexy, sexy man.

Does anyone ever get the feeling that you can have too much of a good thing? Imagine if someone forced you to live on nothing but steak for a year. You’d get sick of it after a while, no matter how much you love chewing bovine.

The same can’t be said about Michael Jackson fans. Their diet has been nothing but Neverlandian for decades and will remain so forever more.

Worse still, they’re rabid about him. They move in psychotic packs, froth at the mouth and howl in disgust at anyone who badmouths their now deceased idol. However, it seems that their interest is cooling because they’ve nothing to love now that Dr Conrad Murry has been found guilty. Maybe they liked the grief and strife more than MJ’s music?

For Jacksonites, two child molestation cases and the recent trial with Sexy Conrad gave more footage for the fans to record and lust over. Now he’s dead, it seems even more video of the king of pop is surfacing. But for once, nobody could give a flying propofol.

So what’s this footage? Does it contain incriminating evidence where Joe Jackson gave Michael a workout with a belt? Of course not, we’re sure a “lashing tape” doesn’t exist. Instead, its footage filmed during the “Dangerous” tour that happened in 1993.

Fanatics will know that a show from that tour is available to buy when he played Bucharest and is still available for purchase if you want to ruin someone’s Christmas. But something new has emerged, with reports say:

“Made during Jackson’s “Dangerous” tour in 1993 at a stop in Argentina and at nearly two hours long, the footage was shot by Jackson’s own production crew and meant to be an intimate portrait of Jackson on tour. But the singer was unhappy with the quality and gave the only copy to his driver, who was now trying to sell the footage.”

And the price for the tape? Only a paltry £4-6 million. Effectively, it’ll be a piece of video that’ll prove how much of a prick Jackson was to his tour staff. Did he spit out lasagne if it wasn’t cooked with the right sort of mince and demand children on his rider? Or will we be able to see if he really has removable facial feature like Mr. Potato Head? As for now, we won’t know, but a small leak from the tape emerged when he died in 2009. Reports again say:

“The driver said he had been given the tape as “a reward or a bonus” for his “transportation services” and leaked a very short clip of the film online in 2009 after Jackson’s death, but was stopped by the singer’s record label and lawyers who claimed exclusive rights to the film. However, although he is forbidden by US law from distributing copies, he does have the right to sell or transfer the VHS to third parties.”

But no-one cares. Especially Michael Jackson fans. They all probably like Chris Brown now.

Do you know how they make mink coats? They get a mink and shout obscenities at it – IN MINK LANGUAGE – until it cries. Then, they make then stand on their hindly mink legs until they break before men come in and kick the skin off them.

Then, worst of all, the skinless, frightened mink creatures are all forced to sew their fur together into expensive coats.

COATS DESIGNED BY JANET JACKSON WHO HATES MINKS.

Of course, wearing fur is desperately unfashionable these days, now that most have got a conscience. However, that won’t bother Janet Jackson as she’s been out of the pop-cultural loop for years, right?

Apparently, Janet Jacko has managed to get over the death of her brother Michael, forgotten all about those animals that made him cry when they were mistreated and used, and signed up with a fur firm called Blackglama.

No. We didn’t make ‘Blackglama’ up.

Anyway, Janet is going to create a luxury mink collection, which features 15 items ranging from coats to gloves made from the backs, faces and scrota of mink who have been bullied by men with special mink-kicking boots in lipstick.

Janet, unaware as usual, says:

“The art of fashion is one of my great passions. I’ve worked for years to bring a collection into the world. Partnering with Blackglama is very exciting.”

It goes without saying that Jackson has already come under fire from animal-rights campaigners. Last year, after she modelled various dead mink, PETA went mental.

Spokeswoman for PETA, Amanda Schinke, is on record as saying:

“It’s amazing what celebrities will do when their careers are on a downslide, but we didn’t think that Janet was this desperate.”

Schinke should totally write for hecklerspray.

Over the last few years, stories regarding Michael Jackson have all focused on one specific issue. That’s right, his demise from this world and descent into a tacky gold coffin that’s buried deep underground so nutjob fans can’t rub their genitals across it.

More recent events have led to the climax of Jackson’s life where the whole world got to hear what drugs were given to him via ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray. Ever since the incident on the set of a Pepsi commercial where the former king of pop’s head resembled a stinky sparkler, Michael supposedly downed pills like Smarties.

We’d like to distance ourselves from the recent courtroom drama featuring the only decent member of The Jackson Five. Instead, we want to relive some of the more memorable moments from his lifetime when he was alive, full of life and generally not being beaten by Poppa Joe.

Now, we’ll get this out of the way now – towards the end of his adult life, there were a couple of incidents that everyone associated with Jacko. As a dedicated animal lover, he didn’t settle at having a budgie or a dog. Instead, Bubbles the monkey was his pet. Granted, there was always the risk of the creature ripping Jackson’s face off, but who cares? Do you know anyone else who owns a monkey? Actually, that might have been the reason for his wonky nose, damn that pesky monkey!

When people play word association with the words “children” and “Michael Jackson”, they automatically start thinking of evil thoughts designed to ruin the singer’s reputation. Remember everyone; he was acquitted twice of having sexy time with children, spiking them with wine and generally tucking them up in bed with a loving look in his milky eyes. So what are we going on about then? Well there was that time in Berlin where Michael proudly showed off his offspring. Most people would pass an infant round a room, but if you’ve got more money than sense, then dangling the tot of a hotel balcony is a much better option of showing your love for children.

Chances are that you’ve never met Michael Jackson and at best, have had to settle for his sister Janet. So how do we get an insight into how the singer acted and behaved when not plagued with dodgy allegations? Well a conveniently released book that’s out just in time for Christmas entitled “My Friend Michael” by close friend Frank Cascio might be able to help us. All sorts of fascinating aspects are revealed, such as a fun loving side to the star who:

“Giggled while throwing a bucket of water over unsuspecting dinner guests.”

Imagine that, you’re sitting down about to bite into a delicious piece of cow and then bloody Michael Jackson covers you in water, touches his crotch and then runs to his room to escape from the people he’s just narked off. But if you think that was abnormal behaviour, it gets slightly weirder. Cascio wrote

“Princess Diana was at the top of Jackson’s list of women he wanted to date, and that Jackson made out with one of his fan club members.”

We can only assume that Jackson had this crush on Princess Diana before her body was smashed to bits by her drunk driver/the paparazzi/MI5 in a Paris tunnel. Unless, of course, we never really discovered how sick and twisted he really was and he really had a love and fetish of dead princess corpses. We’ll never bloody know.

So is the book all happiness and rainbows? Sadly not as Frank Cascio seemingly wants to portray his former friend as a drug addict, seemingly without the help of ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray. More extracts from the book say:

“Jackson started one of his anniversary shows an hour late because the star was high on drugs. Particularly in late tours, when Michael was under great stress and needed help falling asleep.”

We await the mental Michael Jackson fans to start nitpicking the book to pieces like vultures and explaining how his former best friend is a total liar and has painted the wrong image.

Finding a man to play Michael Jackson in a biopic is no easy task. Listen, LaToya Jackson is surely not in the picture, despite being MJ’s reanimated corpse. Think about it. You need someone who vaguely looks like the former King of Pop.

Naturally, what with Michael going from handsome black man to Roswell white man, there’s not many people who are up to the task, unless someone creates some ET/human/chameleon hybrid.

However, seeing as a Michael Jackson biopic is in the pipeline, there’s actors being touted to guzzle Propofol like UHT milk. And oddly, most of them are white.

Weirdly enough, Johnny Depp has been made the favourite to play Jackson in a film that will be made by Ghostbusters producers Ivan Reitman and Tom Pollock. Let us hope that their ghost enthusiasm hasn’t waned and they include that amazing MJ seance held by Derek Acorah when he channelled Mike and said ‘Say hi to Quincy Jones for me.’

Anyway, bookmakers Paddy Power opened betting and Depp ran away with a hilarious lead with odds of 4/1 with other big white names like High School Musical’s Zac Effron getting odds at 9/2 and Justin Timberlake at 12/1.

Will Smith and Usher have also been mentioned too, but that kinda spoils our angle on the article.

Sharon McHugh, spokesperson for Paddy Power, said in a statement:

“It’s going to be one mammoth task trying to get someone good enough at acting and dancing to fill Michael Jackson’s moon-walking shoes but when it comes to the race we’re betting it don’t matter if he’s black or white!”

Jesus Christ. Anyway, one person who has been cruelly overlooked is the marvellously odd Eddie Murphy who is certainly not averse to playing different characters with different faces. Better yet, he’s got form when it comes to singing bad synth-soul!

Check this out. He could totally do a Jamie Foxx when he played Ray Charles and sing the OST!

And, even BETTER than that, Eddie Murphy has links to Michael Jackson. Yes, he appeared in one of MJ’s videos (Do You Remember The Time), but Jackson appeared on one of Eddie’s singles from ’93.

Yes he did. And boy howdy, you’ll laugh when you see this video. Eddie dressed up like he’s just been kicked out of the Blue Oyster club and Jackson looking as ghoulish as ever!

Enjoy this one and start putting your money on Eddie Murphy playing Jackson in his biopic. Oh, and Carlton from the Fresh Prince to play Sexy Conrad Murray, please.

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Deathbed for sale. What a peculiar notion. That said, it has a lovely ring to it. It almost sounds like an Agatha Christie thriller. Either way, Michael Jackson’s deathbed was up for auction so that his mental fans could buy it and have sex with themselves in it.

That’s because they’re hugely lonely and there’s no room for another face in the mirror because Mad Jackson fans are too enveloped by the aura of Jackson himself.

Anyway, the deathbed has been pulled from auction because some bright spark realised that it might be a little distasteful selling a giant bed filled with celebrity corpse goo. Shame. We hoped a mad-scientist would buy it and try cloning an army of Michael Jacksons.

Jackson’s estate stepped in and asked Julien’s Auctions to remove the item, which had a pre-sale start price of between $3,000 and $5,000.

That seems cheap, especially given that MJ would have almost certainly paid a ludicrous amount for it while he was alive (people saw him coming – we reckon he got overcharged for Snickers… “certainly sir, that will be $40,000“).

Hmm. Anyway, the queen-sized headboard was removed from the auction and sadly, it appears that the mattress was never an option because it was full of lovely,  stainy evidence from when Jackson got his Propofol milk and went and died under the sexy glare of Conrad Murray (now on suicide watch).

Still, there’s a number of items from Michael’s rented mansion still up for grabs! Like what? You can get yourself some paintings by Maurice Utrillo and Henri Rosseau, or if you’re a greedy bastard, there’s silverware to be had.

Or, for the macabre amongst you, there’s a kitchen chalkboard with a handwritten note which reads “I [heart] Daddy. SMILE, it’s for free,” written in childlike text – presumably by one of his grieving children.

If that all fills you with horror, you could do something completely normal and dress up as Michael Jackson for the rest of your life and sit in your room doing quiet impressions of the late singer while listening to his later work, trying to convince you its as good as the Thriller LP.

Which it isn’t you mental berks.

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Remember Michael Jackson’s amazing tribute event in Cardiff where people bought overpriced tickets to watch Alien Ant Farm, 3T, JLS and LaToya Jackson (aka Michael’s animated corpse) prance around on MJ’s grave?

Of course, most of the Jackson family thought the tribute was in terrible taste, what with it taking place in the middle of Conrad Murray’s trial.

The whole thing was beset with controversy, even to the point where absolutely insane Michael Jackson fans boycotted the whole thing, calling it a scam. Well, maybe those lunatics were onto something because Global Events – the people who put the show on – have now gone into administration leaving everyone who worked on the show unpaid for their work. HURRAY FOR MICHAEL JACKSON’S LEGACY!

The news, reported by Stereoboard (in a less funny way than us) if anyone wants to sue anyone over defamation of character, broke after some of the people who worked on the show went mental on twitter, using the hashtags #unpaidMJTalentTeam and #HELPGETMEPAID.

Sadly, everyone was too busy making jokes about #xfactor to give the vaguest of shits.

Anyway, this looks like a case of a bunch of lighting crew and roadies not getting paid, right? WRONG. The artists haven’t got paid either. Of course, the backstage crew should get paid first because they need the money more and, secondly, the artists should’ve done the whole thing for free if they loved Michael Jackson as much as they say they did.

Of course, now they’ve not been paid, you just watch all the pop stars saying “Oh, we were totally going to give our fee to a charity like Michael would’ve wanted.” You just watch.

A twitter user named Dom Pisani has been tweeting and writing about the whole thing, shouting:

“Not impressed that Global Live Events have gone bust leaving all who work tirelessly on the MJ Tribute concert unpaid!! #unpaidMJTalentTeam.”

They followed this up with:

“Still no payment from Michael Jackson Tribute Concert, apparently even artists are missing money. Doesnt look promising.”

“@Ivy_MJJC @misschiviouss @loakim45 #unpaidMJTalentTeam Keep tweetin guys, we need ppl to notice. Noones paid, guess that means charities too. wud really appreciate you posting it guys, they can’t be allowed to get away with it.”

Another user, Aaron Mavinga, wrote:

“HELP! I worked on the #MJtributeCONCERT last month and Global LIVe Events gone bust. PLEASE RT message #HELPGETMEPAID #unpaidMJTalentTeam.”

Ester GillT-Pleasure Gill (what an idiot name) said on the M4Tribute official Facebook page:

“It’s disgusting that not one person who worked on the concert got paid! A total scam and a real shame to end on! I worked hard on this show and then got told the promoter had not paid any bills at all and went bankrupt over night. What a Scam!! The Promoter should be ashamed of himself for ripping off hard working crew!”

No official word from Global Events as yet, and indeed, there’s nothing to say that these people aren’t lying (we have to say that legally), but y’know, with this being a gossip-based site, we have to report these things between the reviews and photos of boobs.

Looks like, even in death, Michael Jackson can’t catch a break with decent people to work with. Just think about the last person he hired.

Exactly.

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To be a successful female in modern America, you have to release records that are edgy, oozing with sex and somehow able to offend various subsections of society or else you’re just old fashioned.

Rihanna constantly tells us how she likes to engage in adult activities, Lady Gaga likes to dress up as meat and Beyonce likes to fake pregnancies (if the mentalist rumours are true). So where does Nicki Minaj fit in?

Some say she bypasses all of the above shock factors and does an alright job of reinventing female rap. Previously, Nicki Minaj upset America when her right boob popped out to say hello. Now conservative types will probably get into a fluster as she prepares to release new songs as a gender bender.

People have cottoned on to the fact that controversy sells. Frankie Cocozza will probably be offered a record deal based solely on his hair and the fact he has amazingly tall hair, drinks booze and wears jeans that are so skinny, they have begun to disappear up his own hole.

So what’s the story with Nicki Minaj?

Well, something posted on her website (since removed) said:

“Roman will be in rare form this time. You know why? Cuz he no longer gives a fuck. He realises that his core matters the most. Everyone else will figure it the fuck out. He can no longer be censored. That’s not Lewinsky on a$$. It’s Roman. He has 2 more weeks in boarding school. We’re going to pick him up now. When he lands, he will address the nation in the form of music. He will announce the date.”

Don’t worry if you can’t make head or tail of that. We’re here to help.

Basically, Nicki Minaj has an alter ego, gay BFF called Roman Zolanski. We’ve no idea how that’ll work though, and more to the point, Minaj has missed a trick.

Instead of creating a gay alter ego, we would have liked to see Nicki creating a character who was an actual Roman. Imagine him racing around in a golden chariot wearing nothing more than a leather studded loin cloth, beads of sweat dripping down his hard chiselled stomach, whipping the crapola out of his stallions and pounding out raps that seduce you into his mercy.

Honestly, why aren’t we creative consultants to anyone?

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Ever looked at David Gest and wondered if he keeps his face in position with a large bulldog clip like Kent Brockman from The Simpsons? If so, when he takes it off, does his head look like a hot scrotum?

Either way, Gest seems like a decent enough bloke for someone who has been ravaged by the entertainment industry and mental enough to marry Liza Minnelli while she was in her Aged Alcoholic role (according to Gest himself at least).

And now that the reality TV shows have dried up, Gest thought it would be a good idea to make a film about Michael Jackson, a man who shared the same plastic surgeon with David… which explains why they both look so very, very odd.

Apparently, the new film about Michael – which has made its premiere in London – will “set the story straight” about the pop cadaver.

At the showing, unsurprisingly, loads of insane Michael Jackson fans stopped Moonwalking For Justice from the Conrad ‘Sexy’ Murray trial, to show up in fancy dress. Honestly. What is it with Jacko fans wanting to dress up like him all the time?

Half the time, these kids just look like Roswell aliens in half mast trousers. Put them all together, and their “HEE!” and groin grabs makes you think you’re stuck in a chimp enclosure.

ANYWAY.

Gest said of the film Michael Jackson: The Life of an Icon:

“I woke up one morning and said I’m going to make a movie about Michael’s life because I was tired of reading all this crap about him, all these tales that were so fictitious, and I thought let’s set the story straight but let’s give the people a movie that says something new. Not the same rehash, the same moves and that’s what I did.”

Sycophantic garbage then?

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