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hecklerspray is massively gay. We’re so queer it hurts. Even the straight ‘spreezies are super ‘mo. You don’t care about that. You want to know whether Kelly Clarkson is a lesbian, for whatever nefarious reasons you have.
So is she?
Well, she doesn’t give the ‘bian ‘bian vibe to us. Not one bit. She couldn’t possibly smell of sex with another woman. Not that this has stopped people speculating that she is. And Kel’ wants to tell us all about it.
The Queen of New Boring has come under attack for having the temerity to get all pelvic and grunty with a man who might not be entirely divorced from his estranged wife.
As if it wasn’t enough that she can’t get through a day without a million more people buying her album, she’s had to take to her blog (which is a step up from taking to Twitter, at least) to tell everyone that
a) he’s not married and b) it’s none of their goddamn business.
Christina Aguilera has a problem. That problem is not knowing when to tone it down when she’s singing. That’s it. That’s the only thing that is truly wearisome about her. Even when she flubbed her lines while singing the American National Anthem, only bozos got narked.
However, there’s another thing that people keep mentioning – her weight.
See, Xtina has put a bit of chub on lately and pretty much no-one gives three hoots. And why would they? She’s not stealing food from your plate. However, women appear to be obsessed with the breadth of female celebrities with the caveat of ‘not that it matters of course!’ Either way, by not caring, Aguilera has been asked about her dress size. Again. Apparently, she’s thrilled.
OI! FATTY! IT’S JANUARY SO YOU’D BEST GET ON THE TREADMILL! Is what I’d be shouting at you if I wasn’t one of you; a Festive over-indulger that left a world of salad and steak for one populated almost exclusively by Toblerone and Terry’s Chocolate Oranges. We’ve all been there and now you’re probably sitting clutching your list of New Year’s Resolutions desperately trying to convince yourself that you’ll achieve all of the things on it.
You won’t.
Why should you? You’re your own person and you don’t need a list of goals to tell you that you should probably crack open a bag of cress every now and then before you start to resemble Michelle MacManus & Rik Waller’s illicit love-child. You don’t even need a list of goals to tell you that it might be time to get yourself on a dating website and meet someone new before you fall into the arms of an ex-lover because you’re horribly lonely.
You might not enjoy the music of Adele, but when award season rolls round, she won’t have enough room in her bathroom to show them all off. With six Grammy nominations and probable Brit nods, she’s likely to sweep the board.
You can’t escape Adele’s music due to her success, and so, an extensive tour was always on the cards.
However, major chunks of the gig schedule were thrown into chaos when her voice took a turn for the worst. We imagine that punters wouldn’t want to see her sing through a robotic voice emulator on an iPhone. It might ruin a subtle ballad if she sounded like a Smash robot.
Adele, the most successful British singer since the last British singer did well in the United States of America, has been having problems with that throat of hers. Mainly, the terrible singing that emits from it.
Sadly for Adele’s bank manager, she’s been cancelling gigs left, right and centre because there’s something wrong with her.
As such, she’s had to had surgery on her throat. THERE IS A CHANCE SHE’LL NEVER SING AGAIN! JUST IMAGINE!
Some people hate James Corden. They want the ground to break open and swallow him right up, with all the “stupid” “comedy” things that he says. His amiable, cheeky chappy demeanour just rubs people up such the wrong way that not only would they not piss on him if he was on fire, but they would probably light sparklers on his burning corpse and start a carnival.
Imagine the things you’d see. The sights and sounds of burning fat spitting on possibly e.coli contaminated hotdogs. Lovely.
Whereas on the other side of the coin, there’s people who adore the ground that he walks on and will happily tune into whatever he does. These people would probably not piss on him if he was on fire. They would probably phone the fire brigade and stand idly by and bite their nails waiting for Dennis the Fire Engine to turn up. Maybe taking a picture and uploading it to Twitter, or that fancy new Google Plus. Technological mavens that they are.
Us, well we wouldn’t say one way or another how we feel about James Corden. You don’t come to Hecklerspray for angry reactionary prose about things. Imagine, right? Right.
Imagine just for a second that you’re Adele. You wake up to the contractual Lazy Susan of creamed pastries and important news.
As you separate your breasts from clapping together when you roll over to the eclair sideboard, you hear that someone on the X Factor is totally stealing your shtick and that song that you’ve rammed down so many throats that the Nation doesn’t have a gag reflex anymore? Well the video is out. You’d probably have a celebratory glass of whole cream as you sit down to watch it.
Aaaaaaaaaaand, end scene. Well done everyone. Take five and grab something from the green room.
