Dear hecklersprayers, this article contains information that may ruin your appetite and could even inflict some serious mental damage, distrust of the female nether-parts up to and including the Predator’s face.
Right, with that legal stuff out the way, it’s bad news for all straight men and gay women out there. Susan Boyle is on the look for a suitable mate.
We can’t actually bring ourselves to speak of the hairiest winner of Britain’s Got Talent in a sexual light. It just seems very, very wrong. Like how you wouldn’t want to know about your grandparent’s sex life, or how your mother explains the first time you find a condom in their bedroom. An uneasy, topsy turvy feeling in your stomach makes you want to vomit enough bile to make Example think ‘Jeez, they’re being a bit harsh.’
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Remember when we all laughed at Susan Boyle because she had a funny face? Then she started singing and everyone said in unison; ‘Wow, you can have a funny face AND sing! Who knew?!’ Remember?
Then, when the initial shock of Boyle’s voice ebbed away, everyone went back to pointing and laughing at her. Remember that?
Well, she’s going to turn that hooting mockery into hatred from Depeche Mode fans. That’s because a) Depeche Mode fans are some of the weirdest, most dedicated, joyless nutters you’ll ever meet and b) Susan Boyle has recorded a cover version of a Depeche Mode song.
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And here we are again. You all look so incredibly tired.
So before we begin, let’s really think to ourselves – what do we really WANT from episode 2 of The X Factor 2011? Because so far, nobody has really got what they want, have they? Nobody really voluntarily asks for Kelly Rowland, for example. Nobody really wants Gary Barlow to be angry to them before 9pm.
Hopefully this week, things will change for the better. We would like to see integrity. We would like to see a jazz singer sing an ironic version of She Wolf. We would like to see at least three testicles. But most importantly, we would like X Factor to bring us a window of entertainment that preceeds an ENTIRE EVENING with Will Young, preferably singing low-key versions of his amazing selection of pop hits, preferably in a tuxedo. Hey. What can we say? We dare to dream.
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Susan Boyle may well be known partially for her angelic singing ability, but really, we’re more interested in her crazy antics. She’s like Michael Jackson, only without the crazed fans, dance moves and court appearances.
And now, it is that time of year when your obese uncle visits because he’s eaten his own cupboards bare, Britain’s Got Talent has rolled round to gnaw away the ITV schedule.
So it seems only fitting that Susan Boyle gets a waxwork replica dedicated to her in the world’s most cruddy museum chain, Madame Tussauds. This way, the PR behind Britain’s Got Talent can revert to a former success story when the UK public realise that this year’s so called crop of talent is a load of drivel.
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From the bulging mailbags and comments we receive, it appears the three blokes and Matt Bellamy who make up Muse are the greatest band in the world.
In terms that even a simpleton could understand, Muse are like the Jesus H. Christ of music. Everything they belt out is phenomenal and lapped up by their disciples, otherwise known as their super massive nutter of followers.
Even though the group have don’t do anything particularly exciting, they still have a dedicated bunch of fans willing to testify that a recording of Matt Bellamy crying is audio gold. Fair play if you’d be willing to fork out £50 for a 7” copy of it, but when it comes to physical sales, the Cornish band aren’t leading the way in sales. They’ve only been beaten by someone that Muse fans would consider unrock n’ roll, Susan Boyle.
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Bloody hell, why aren’t people paying attention to the wants and needs of one woman?
OK, let us rephrase that, there are nasty individuals who are making the world’s most famous mentalist opera singer a little bit uneasy. Now we’re not being cruel, but it’s safe to say that Susan Boyle isn’t the sanest of folk. Tell her there’s a portal to Mars directly through your belly button and she’d try and enter it.
Only the week did we tell you that it’s easy to make Susan Boyle cry. Because it’s only natural to pick on someone different, a brutish gang of louts laughed and jeered and called her names. Oddly, this was done on a train. Thank christ it wasn’t on a city centre bus. Not only would she have to endure the stench of piss, but potential happy slapping. Now Susan has been reduced to tears by ex-Velvet Underground member Lou Reed. Guess it wasn’t such a perfect day for her! Sorry, it’s Friday, we’re running short of material.
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As you may have read yesterday, the world briefly paused for a moment and shrivelled in size due to the taunts thrown at Susan Boyle. Come on now, it isn’t like we’ve all been trained to make fun of people who are clearly different to the social norm. Ginger folk, glasses wearers, bald people and the left handed types will have probably received some verbal anger from the trendy Topshop nation
Roll several elements in to one and it will be almost impossible to resist taunting someone you’d never ever meet in real life. Cue Britain’s Got Talent to offer us Susan Boyle who looked a) a complete mess, b) slightly mental, c) suffering with delusion that she could sing and worst of all was d) Scottish.
Once she opened her gob, we knew that point “c” could be removed but “a”, “b” and “d” would still haunt her. Such as incidents on trains. But fear not Susan Boyle, someone from X-Factor loves you!
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People just can’t decide whether to bully Susan Boyle or not. First, the country sniggered at her for merely having the audacity to stand on a stage looking a bit gormless. Then there was a collective staring-at-shoes moment as she belted out a rubbish Elaine Paige song. Then she got a new leather jacket and everyone starting hurling abuse at her again.
And so the tug o’war continues as Susan Boyle was driven to tears and shouting on a train after a bunch of braying gits thought they’d gang up on her and mock her mercilessly.
At the time of press, it cannot be confirmed whether it was a group of hecklerspray writers on the annual team-building exercise to Scotland. That said, when ‘spray writers actually bother to go outside, it is mostly spent weeping and feeling cheated by a world that owes them nothing. Read More >>>
