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.

So what makes people think Clarkson is a lavenderist? Well, it seems to revolve around two things:

1. She’s single.

2. She’s not thin. Sometimes.

And so, with that, she absolutely must be dining at the hooded buffet, right?

Well, the singer revealed:

“People are really concerned about my relationship status. When I tell people I’m happy being single, they don’t believe me. They say: “You have to be miserable being alone.”

Yes, but when you’re not being happily alone, are you fingering women?

“I’m not gay. If I was, I’d say ‘I love women!’ That’s why it drives me nuts. But I feel like even if I did say it, people would be like: ‘You’re just trying to do that to win the gay audience.’”

Poor Kelly Clarkson. She’ll have to carry on staring at pictures of disgusting male members online ’til this all blows over. Or she releases a decent record. Whatever comes first really.

Cock it is.

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.

Taking a break from sitting down and bellowing ballads, Adele made these words happen to her bit of the internet:

“Contrary to reports and headlines in the press today, Simon is divorced and has been for 4 years. Everyone in our lives separately and together wish us nothing but the best, and vice versa. These are the facts.”

So, that clears that up, then. He is definitely not still married, not to anyone, not even a little tiny bit married.

Now, you might ask yourself why it would even matter if he was 100% definitely still married, given that marriage in itself is an antiquated and ridiculous ritual, divorce is expensive and that opting for mere estrangement at least leaves you with one person who can’t testify against you when your participation in the biggest crystal meth ring this side of Albuquerque is finally revealed.

And well done you, for asking questions instead of dumbly buying it like you bought Adele’s album.

It doesn’t really matter either way. What matters is that his nickname is Swampy, he went to Eton, and the two of them were introduced by human pumpkin Ed Sheeran.

That’s where the real story is, people.

This article was written by Becca Day-Preston who is willing to punch you for money. Careful.

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.

Speculation that has come almost entirely from women’s magazines (who simultaneously complain about an imagined obsession with girl’s weight from men) about Christina’s weight has floated around for years now, and to address this notion with an air of ‘solidarity’, Aguilera has revealed she’s happy with her fuller figure. Naturally, all correspondence reveals that her boyfriend Matt Rutler is crazy for her curves as well!

This message is as follows: “Yeah, I’ve noticed that you’ve noticed my change in weight, but I’m cool with it and my boyfriend is also cool with it. See? It’s okay to be a little heavier. You can totally get the affirmation from men too because, ostensibly, that’s what it’s all about… right?”

Speaking to the press, she said:

“I have a boyfriend that loves my body. I love my body, my son is healthy and happy and that is all that matters.”

She added:

“Women, we are definitely under a microscope and under massive scrutiny. As long as I am happy in my own skin, that is all that is all the confirmation I need.”

She’s right. Women are under the microscope. From other women. Women who can’t make their minds up whether to bitch about cellulite or constantly mention the size of a woman, regardless of whether she’s too thin or too fat. In addition to this, young feminists can bring the weight issue up to each other, saying how great it is that Christina is more ‘curvy’ now, thereby judging her on her appearance with the addendum of ‘she looks much better than she did when she was a stick-thin waif.’

In other news: Shut up.

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.

None of that matters though because there’s always something better than a list and in this case adverts are willing to take on the role of your conscience and the New Year ad schedule is packed with sanctimonious bullshit designed to get you out there into the world looking svelte and feeling amazing thanks to some pro-biotic yogurt.

That’s the thing about adverts, isn’t it? They play up to an accepted norm about the society that you live in. Take the hideous Morrisons advert in which two middle-aged children discuss the recession and the need for people to ‘tighten their belts’ in January. You think this is fine because they’re Northern but they’re actually creating a sickening dystopian vision of a world where children are no longer free to be children and have to think about food vouchers and Freddie Flintoff’s bath of gold doubloons. Of course, Morrisons are trying to add an innocent expression onto something that responsible adults seem to talk about all the time whereas some ad campaigns are just cynical.

Take a moment, shut your eyes and imagine a meeting room where six people are sitting. None of them are wearing suits or any kind of formal business attire and one is wearing a pair of tattered brogues with no socks. One man fiddles nervously with his spectacles as he examines the stoney faces around the room. They’ve been given the ultimate contract; a weight loss brand that needs a change of direction.

One woman in the group suddenly rolls back in her ergonomic back-supporting office chair and makes a loud exclamation of joy. “I’ve got it,” she shouts, “why don’t we show overweight people that if they follow the Weight Watchers plan, it’ll make them thin?!”

There is a stunned silence in the meeting room and the glass walls begin to de-mist as their collective breath is held. Everyone looks to the man wearing a rugby shirt at the head of the table. He nods sagely and the room erupts in applause. The creatives have done it again! Fat people can be thin and they will show them the light!

“Wait though!” Cries the man with no socks. “How can we convince our target audience of saturated fatties that they want to be thin and beautiful?” The room falls silent again: all that can be heard is the nervous tapping of pens on the table.

“What about writing a song and getting a pop star to sing it?” The quietest woman suggests. “We could make the lyrics really motivational so that they really speak to our target market?”

There is some muted discussion in the room. It’s too quiet for us to hear but we all know that they’re discussing who to have sing it. Rik Waller and Michelle MacManus are busy making babies and Craig Colton from last year’s X Factor is far too shit. They need someone that people can aspire to be like. Someone sassy and respectable that will quite literally sell their soul for money.

If only there was someone that fitted the bill. They have a long conversation and seem to come up with nothing. They’re standing up to leave, presumably off to think about it over some champagne and oysters when a Britain’s Got Talent judge walks into their office, looking for scraps.

“Hark!” They cry in unison as this fictional account becomes alarmingly Dickensian. They’ve found their woman. A sassy, respectable woman with a big, idiotic face who would quite literally sell her soul for money. They don’t even need to negotiate with her. Alesha’s shaking hands with them all before they even name a figure. Her only stipulation is that she doesn’t have to touch any of the fatties and that she doesn’t have to rap. She’s moving in a new direction.

Now you know how the Play Weight Watchers campaign came into being, aren’t you a little more open to its message and its 3 minutes and 14 seconds of bad miming, worse dancing and sanctimonious ‘body positive’ thrust? Doesn’t the sight of these people who, you’ve got to hand it to them, look great inspire you to go out there and go to meetings, living by a strict ‘point controlled’ system which requires you to lose weight by emptying your wallet?

Or does it still make you want to tear your own eyes out and stuff them into your ears so that you don’t have to see or hear this abomination ever again? What’s it going to be, fatso?

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.

And it was Adele’s American fans who were hit by her illness the most as her ten date tour in October was completely cancelled. A few months later her tour rider has leaked online, displaying no real egotistical requests, but instead a heart warming demand that anyone receiving complimentary tickets makes a charity donation.

In the past, we’ve often wondered why solo artists specifically need to have four dressing rooms for themselves, seven bulldogs sprayed neon green and for anyone on-site to call them a different name. On a ten date tour of America, it would have been likely to see loads of freeloading journalists getting in for nothing and potentially slating her.

According to the rider, it was clearly stated that:

“Guests are asked to give a minimum of $20 “when they collect their tickets” to Sands. There will be no exception to this rule.”

Assuming that the gig cost around $40, that’s still a cheap night out than what the majority of the audience will be paying. For those interested in what the charity Sands is, it’s

“A UK based charity and supports those affected by the loss of a baby, as well as promoting research into premature death among infants.”

We don’t know the exact reasoning for Adele’s choice, but it’s a noteworthy one that only an idiot would protest to when asked to pay a small sum on the tour.

So what else did the rider cough up? Amusingly, it shows a complete disregard for American beer. Anyone who drinks Budweiser may as well use a Sodastream to make their urine fizzy. And since the beverage is the new sponsor the FA Cup, it hasn’t done any favours for itself. Adele seemingly shares our opinion as her rider stated on tour that she required.

“12 bottles of the “best quality European lager beer. ie Becks, Stella Artois, Peroni etc. North American beer is NOT acceptable”

You know Adele is serious as it’s written in shouty capital letters. Alongside the usual request of fizzy drinks, crisps and sandwiches, there isn’t really a lot to add. Though an element of mystery remains for the promoters as in the after show requests, it’s mentioned that:

“We will require food (Pizza? Sandwiches? Something more exciting?) to feed 26 hungry people.”

Something more exciting? How about a pizza sandwich? Instantly solving all of the dilemmas tours throw up.

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!

Sadly for ear-owners and people without menstrual tendencies, the quack who operated on Adele’s vocal cords has hailed the surgery a success.

Regrettably, she will almost certainly be singing again really soon.

Dr. Steven Zeitels, who has previously treated Steven Tyler, Julie Andrews and Cher, performed the operation at Massachusetts General Hospital and bosses at the medical facility have now released a statement hailing the surgery a success.

We can only hope that Adele comes back sounding like Cher in ‘Believe’ ALL. THE. TIME. because that would be amazing. More amazing than Cylon and Garfunkel in Futurama.

The doctor’s statement reads:

“Adele underwent vocal cord microsurgery by Dr. Steven Zeitels to stop recurrent vocal cord haemorrhage (bleeding) from a benign polyp. This condition is typically the result of unstable blood vessels in the vocal cord that can rupture… Dr. Zeitels expects Adele to make a full recovery from her laser microsurgery.”

Benign polyp, eh? That sounds delicious.

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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.

Well Corden is doing a massive publicity drive to drum up sales for his autobiography which has a handwritten title no doubt… and what’s the best way to drum up some attention for something? Well by dressing up as a woman is how. Just look at Corrie. Once they became Transsexualisation Street, the ratings went through the roof. Not just because they made it seem to Roy Cropper wasn’t going to embark on a paedophile inspired kidnap culminating in a dash from Underworld with a toddler under each arm into a white van.

But because they were addressing ‘issues.’

Obviously Corden isn’t addressing any issues, apart from making us aware that everyone STILL loves Adele, but that doesn’t stop him from popping his penis between his legs and dragging up. Maybe they even went the whole hog (so to speak). Who knows?

Talking to Heat, between rearranging his flattened package, Corden gushed

“I love Adele so much. I find what she’s achieved and keeps achieving an inspiration to any young singer-songwriter out there. I met her on her first-ever performance on T4. You could just tell then how huge she was going to be. She’s exceptional. It makes me excited about presenting the BRITs next year, knowing that the biggest-selling female artist in the world is going to be there. And she’s part of our little island. She’s just taken over the World.”

Obviously what Corden meant to say was she’s “part of our little island” because she’s an actual counterweight so Britain doesn’t keelhaul us all into the English Channel. While Adele stays around, we can live happy without sliding into the Sea.

So let’s put our hands together for James Corden. It seems that flashing his magina keeps the Great Sea God Adele from dooming us all to a life of floating on doors and rafts made from broken settees.

It didn’t do Leonardo di Caprio so well at the end of Titanic is it? Winslet couldn’t save him from a watery grave could she? So presumably it’s just fire that she can jump through with the lithe of a thousand Batmen. And maybe when all those powers combine, Kwame is Joseph Gorden Levitt and Tom Hardy is still a hulking dick.

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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.

If you haven’t guessed already, the video for ‘Someone Like You’ has finally been released. The video that nobody wanted filming can finally be viewed. And in our honest hecklerspraying opinion, it’s a bit of a flimsy attempt to capitalise on the, somewhat, waning mega-success that she has already had with it.

Maybe it’s because she has to pay almost half of the profits to HMRC so she wants to squeeze every last drop out of it before finally giving up the goat. Or perhaps she just wanted to go for a wander around Paris and have someone film it. Which is very arrogant isn’t it? Bad Adele, no eclairs for you.

Obviously we all know that it’s so she can release a deluxe version of ’21’ with added features like the videos and shit on there in a few months time.

To be honest though, because there’s an almost Instagram-esque haze throughout the whole video, it’s difficult to definitely say that it’s Paris that she’s about to rob of all it’s baked products. It could easily be set in Blackpool or anywhere else that has a tower in it.

Why someone in Adele’s management decided to release an official video for this song, when the performance at the Brits did the song more justice than anything anyone can create, is baffling. You can watch it here, but trust us, you’ll have a confused feeling in your stomach afterward. Like having sex with David Hasslehoff. It’s unnecessary and will make you feel a little unwell after.

At least she’s wearing a nice coat. So she’s clearly thinking of the weather.

This article was written, blindfolded, by the debauched nincompoop Robin Darke who you can find out more on via this stream of twaddle.

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Adele seems to split people into two camps. The first is the Oooh! She’s like a proper singer! She’s not like those thin, manufactured ones! She’s a proper soul singer! She’s a real person! The other is the She Makes Really Boring Records And I Just Don’t Get The Fuss camp.

Of course, there’s a third group which sneer I Don’t Have Anything To Do With Popular Culture Because I Do My Own Thing And Feel Vastly Superior And Simultaneously Ostracised By It, but the less said about those bores the better.

However, there’s a fourth camp now. They’re called the Gah! We’re So Bored Of Hearing The Same Song That We’ve Actually Banned It. Let us explain.

When you have a hit single, it is constantly in danger of overplay. This means that people end up hating pieces of music regardless of whether they initially liked it or not.

And so, in a music shop in Dublin – called Opus II if you care in the slightest – they’ve banned Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’.

Basically, they felt the need to impose a ban after the workers got beyond tired of hearing the song. It appears that every time someone sits at a piano when they’re shopping, they start playing Adele’s ballad.

Now there’s a sign up saying: “Strictly NO Adele”.

A shop assistant says:

“It’s become the piano equivalent of ‘Stairway To Heaven’, everyone thinks they can play it. The sign was a bit of a joke, but the song can drive you mad.”

The store has also banned Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’ and absolutely any Michael Nyman music from being played.

Good work.

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Have you ever looked at Simon Cowell and thought to yourself; ‘I’d like to get a load of plastic explosives and blow him and his botoxed face off the face of the Earth, just for giggles’?

Well, that’s exactly what Cheryl Cole did yesterday. Remarkably, she did it with the help of the British Army.

We don’t remember seeing Simon Cowell’s face on the infamous War On Terror playing cards though. Paula Abdul, yes, but no Cowell.

The Army, who clearly hate the music that Simon Cowell has unleashed on the world, got their explosive experts to give Cheryl the opportunity to blow up the music mogul.

Cole, while over at Camp Bastion, was thrilled to get the chance to blow something to kingdom come.

Sadly, it was only a dummy of the X Factory Foreman.

Cole apparently said:

“His head needed to be a lot bigger and the trousers could have done with being a lot higher.”

“It was nice to hold the cards for a change. This moment will live in my memory for a long time! They sprang it on me. I had no idea Simon the dummy was going to be blown up. It was good to see everyone having a laugh.”

Yeah. Blowing stuff up is a laugh! We can’t fault that line of thinking.

Unless, of course, you’re blowing up a busy shopping street with a lunchbox filled with explosives strapped to your stomach. That’s marginally less fun.

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Adele. She’s not thin is she? We’ve all noticed and most people don’t really care. They never have. They may well think her music is duller than stagnant dish water, but her waist? Never even considered it.

The single most irritating thing about Adele is that she’s omnipresent. You can’t move for hearing her mawkish take on balladry. She’s basically a more-credible Westlife. It’s all earnest, doe-eyed faux-pain channelled through that feeling of being a bit teary after a few drinks, watching someone sing something slightly emotional on a karaoke.

However, bringing up her weight is none other than the girl herself, who for the millionth time this week, has underlined that she’s comfortable with the way she looks.

Adele, if you didn’t know, is on the cover of UK Vogue. Of course, what with her not being a thin model, this gives the fashion industry and women’s lifestyle magazines the chance to, at some point in the future, refute claims of promoting an unhealthy image to young women.

They can now disagree and say “We were one of the first magazines to put Adele on the cover, so no, we don’t subscribe to this notion that we only showcase thinner girls.” You just watch.

Either way, despite the fact no-one really cares what Adele’s figure is like (apart from those laziest of joke makers who like to point it out, just to troll everyone else), she’s keen to point at it and say ‘I don’t care’.

She said:

“I’ve seen people where it rules their lives, you know, who want to be thinner or have bigger boobs, and how it wears them down. And I just don’t want that in my life.”

“It’s just never been an issue – at least, I’ve never hung out with the sort of horrible people who make it an issue. I have insecurities of course, but I don’t hang out with anyone who points them out to me.”

What we can slate though, is Adele’s pathetic immune system as she’s cancelled further gigs thanks to a chest infection after nixing concerts thanks to a bout of laryngitis.

Not that anyone will hear this insult, because everyone is too busy imagining that people are berating Adele for being a different shape to a bunch of other women.

Chances are though, should she lose a load of weight, women will be the first to start yelling “Oh! Doesn’t she look great?!” or “I can’t believe she’s lost all that weight. It must be peer pressure! I don’t judge women by their size, but I definitely think she’s not as good now she’s thin.”

Idiots.

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Everything changes and develops into condensed shiny version. Even social networking has evolved. In the beginning we had MySpace, a tool where any idiot could upload appalling songs in the vain hope of being snapped up by a label. Facebook pinched the audience of MySpace, simplifying the clumsiness of its predecessor before Twitter cut out the marketing spam and made everything feel more communal.

Twitter allows the entire world to know what you’re doing in a continual burst of status updates. Refreshing as it is to know your mate is suffering from chronic diarrhoea, it’s the celebrities who are best value as sometimes, they totally fail to self-edit.

We think of it as friendly stalking from afar, eliminating the chances of you being caught furiously masturbating outside your favourite slebs house. And now, poor Cheryl Cole who has been out the spotlight for a while, has signed up to twitter which means we can find out exactly what she’s thinking (follow her here).

Every girl group has a member who somehow maintains popularity and press coverage despite doing nothing at all. As far as we’re aware, all of the other members of Girls Aloud aren’t doing anything that’ll bankroll them for the rest of their lives. Nadine released a flop album, the ginger one did something with make-up, Sarah Harding starred in a couple of ropey films and we can’t remember the other one. Wasn’t she called Bridgett? Whatever her name, her and all of the other members combined haven’t been up to much compared to Chezza.

And poor Cheryl became the nation’s sweetheart… the innocent dimple cheeked lamb who always suffered at the hands of other people.

First she had to face the behaviour of on/off partner Ashley Cole who was sticking his penis in other women’s love tunnels. And men too, if you believe those completely libellous rumours.

In more recent times, Cheryl suffered at the mercy of entertainment lord and music’s greatest enemy, Simon Cowell. Because Girls Aloud wouldn’t ripple in the gigantic pond that is the American music market, Cheryl was given a chance to break the lucrative Yank market and tell a bunch of deluded singers over there that they were rubbish. That’s right, X-Factor was going Stateside and a humble Geordie girl was going along for the ride. After months of dragging the American judging panel out, there was a problem. Cheryl’s Geordie accent wasn’t cutting the peas pudding and she was asked to leave.

And Paula Abdul bullied her.

Since X-Factor dried up, Cheryl Cole has disappeared. Where has she gone? No new music has been released and there’s been a lack of patronising makeup adverts on the TV. Toilet attendants might be on edge. But fear not! Everyone can now catch up with what Cheryl is doing all the time. From refusing her super skinny cappuccino because it’s too fattening, to planning magazine shoots, we’ll get to know everything that’s going on thanks to Twitter.

So far, @cherylcole has only tweeted twice. They include:

“It’s me CC! WHERE MY SOLDIERS AT…….?!!! I can’t believe what my fingers are doing but yes I’m tweeting :-s so here goes…X”

It appears that she might have fled to Libya to head up the rebel troops movement. And:

“Happy birthday Cameron, you sexy beeeyyaatchh…X”

Clearly Cheryl Cole is a Tory supporter and is keen to show off her mad love for her number one politician BFF, David Cameron.

@stephendfry might have competition on Twitter, but not @hecklerspray. Poo jokes are as intelligent as we get.

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You may remember a few months ago (and if you don’t remember, you’re a liar, because we ALL remember. We just don’t talk about it anymore) someone, somewhere on the horizon of logic sacked Cheryl Cole upon realising she is an entirely pointless human woman.

Yeah, you remember. It was brilliant.

After years being mollycoddled (and there really is no other word for it, that bitch got  mollycoddled good) by Simon Cowell after a number of years of voluntary blindness, a promotion to LA fell flat on it’s arse, because some brave stallion of a man stood up in a board meeting and suddenly realised “Hang on a second. This woman’s dimples aren’t cute enough to warrant a legitimate and vibrant media career at all! We’ve all been duped!’ and Cheryl Cole, alas, alas, hung up her stupid purple stupid trousers which were stupid, and headed back to England, to do something or other.

Those months were some of the most significant pieces of clarity that we have ever experienced. But now it’s time for the hideous comedown, which falls into the shape of the following piece of information: Cheryl Cole is now to become an actress.

It has surfaced that Cheryl (Or ‘Chezza’, if you’re a Heatworld.com reader) will be appearing in an upcoming terrible film called What To Expect When You’re Expecting – a hilarious romcom about pregnant people starring Cameron Diaz and Jennifer Lopez. What’s that you say? Why have two has-been, incredibly untalented and unattractive women when you can have three? Well, yes, bit cruel – but fair point, guys. Fair point.

On top of this, new rumours are now floating around that Cheryl’s infallible multi-talented abilities will also be taking place in a guest spot in everyone’s favourite masochistic orgy series Glee, and everyone’s second favourite masochistic orgy series How I Met Your Mother.

These rumours appeared to begin after Matthew Morrison, (who apparently is in Glee, but how the hell would we possibly know) lied to the press today professing:

“She is a talented girl. Appearing in Glee would be a good way for Cheryl to crack America.”

Brilliant. Cheers Cheryl. It’s going to be an absolutely awful 2012, and we’re all going to have to actually watch the Olympics now.

Citizen Kane 2, anyone?

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We haven’t seen much of Cheryl Cole since America decided that it really, really hated her voice. As such, Cole almost vanished from the planet, if you don’t count the endless speculative articles that surrounded her for months.

And we could well be seeing a lot less of her as she’s been granted an superinjunction (please note, it is more of an ‘injunction’, but ‘superinjunction’ is a buzz word used to describe pretty much anything these days) which means that anyone who takes her picture without permission could end up having their collar felt by the long, stinky arm of the law.

Basically, this court order has been issued against “XYZ and others”. This means that anyone who has photographed her ‘at her home and in the street during 2011′, will be breaking the law. That means you excitable Cheryl fans could get arrested for snapping her. So what can we all do to get around it? Photoshopping images is the key!

If you’re a fan of Cheryl who newspapers might describe as ‘loyal’ and are mental enough to camp out to see her in various places ‘just to see if she’s okay’ or shout I LOVE YOU CHERYL for no reason at all, any photographs you take will be against the terms of the order.

Of course, if this proves vaguely successful, other celebrities will waste absolutely no time in getting their own orders out.

As such, we’ll be faced with the strange event that a celebrity will happily pose for photos at events, yet, they don’t want their photos taking at all.

Wouldn’t it be funny if all the media outlets clubbed together and decided that they wouldn’t take a picture of a celebrity ever, ever again, replacing their images with photoshopped horrors.

Such as? Well, let hecklerspray get the ball rolling with some suggestions. If we can’t snap Cheryl anymore, we’ll just have to imagine what she looks like these days.

You’re welcome.

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We live in a world that is dominated by girl groups… and it really is fantastic. Rock is pretty much dead in the water, filled with bloated, self-worthy fellas with guitars peddling pedestrian, plodding pish. The girls meanwhile are making fun, Friday night records. Apart from Adele.

And now that Cheryl Cole has been ‘freed’ from the shackles of television and Simon Cowell, she’s now able to rejoin Girls Aloud to once more make quirky, witty pop. Which is a relief.

She’s looking forward to it too, saying that she’s “glad” not to be a part of The X Factor circus anymore. And with a GA comeback afoot, she can drum up some publicity by taking needless swipes at everyone. Aaaah, it feels good to write this hackneyed old crap again.

Apparently, Cheryl has told chums (or as they’re known in the press, ‘sources which have never met the person who is being written about’):

“I’m actually really happy not to be on the show now. It was definitely the right decision for me,”

“I was so badly mucked around by Simon and everyone involved. I don’t want that in my life any more. I’m better off without it.”

She reportedly added:

“I’ll make my own decisions now and not have to be dependent on someone else. I’ve moved on. I’m loving being home and being back in Britain. It feels right for me right now.”

“Nobody realises this but I never actually had this great dream to break the States. It was Simon who encouraged me to take the job there. If I never come famous in America then that’s fine with me.”

And this is all because Girls Aloud are coming back in 2012. Nicola Roberts is, of course, creating something of a storm with her new single, Beat Of My Drum, which isn’t actually as great as everyone claims, rather, being an example of a pop star who everyone is rooting for thanks to a refreshing lack of ego and a will to make immediate, vaguely quirky pop. Nadine Coyle could learn some lessons in humility from ol’ Nicola.

So once Roberts has wrapped up her promos, Cheryl will be waiting at camp GA, stating that she’d arranged to rejoin the group and isn’t one for going back on her word….

“I always keep my promises, unlike some people.”

“I’d never go back on my word. I always honour my ­commitments, unlike some people I know. I keep my ­promises.”

Hear that Simon? Of course you didn’t. You’re too far up a former Pussycat Doll’s arse to hear anything at all. Either way, it’s looking likely that Girls Aloud will be making an appearance at the opening on the London Olympics in some way, which is just brilliant news.

And no, we’re not being sarcastic.

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