Posts Tagged ‘Kerry Katona

So this morning Grace Dent (Guardian journalist) tweeted this observation about Holly Willoughby: 


‘Holly is the girl who spent from Freshers Week till Christmas crying on a pay phone in Halls hugging a hypoallergenic pillow.’
And this got me a-thinking what other celebrities are already in our lives under different guises….
Louie Spence is your boyfriend from primary school that always wanted to borrow your Mark Owen doll and wanted to dress up in your Baby Spice costume ‘just for a laugh’.

Kerry Katona is the woman in your office who flashed the boss on the work night out after bringing her own plastic bottle of Irn Bru full of Glen’s vodka and downing it on the bus there.

Jeremy Clarkston is your dad’s friend that always exclaims you’ve grown up while staring down your top.

Fearne Cotton is the girl that was really good at netball in high school and was rarely late. She got slagged for being the last girl in the class to get a bra and stole her Auntie Mabel’s 38G bra and wore it and everyone seen it at PE.

David Walliams is your friend that you always presume is gay, therefore get changed in front of him, but little do you know he is actually straight and furiously pleasures himself to this image. He is patiently waiting for the day you have two many Breezers and then he is going to give you the most unsatisfying four and a half minutes of your adult life.

Amy Childs might have been in your science class with in first year but you’re not sure, she had mousey hair and a flat chest and she got A’s for everything due to her exceptionally high IQ. She was friends with the girl that used to talk to her schoolbag.

Gary Barlow is middle management at your work, and used to sit and eat Gregg’s yum-yums all day until he started at Scottish Slimmers (which he never shuts up about), and constantly uses corporate jargon like ‘blue-sky thinking’ and ‘pushing the envelope’. He has been passed for promotion a record 5 times.

Nadine Coyle is the girl at uni who whined non-stop about being fat and ugly, normally while you were struggling to zip up a size 14 dress and would get drunk and get off with your boyfriend and then deny it happened.

The list is endless…..

Cheryl Tweedy (convicted Geordie turned nation’s sweetheart) recently admitted to being ‘a little bit skanky’. So with baited breath I read on- what would be revealed? She bit her own toenails for the taste? She liked to fart in bed and dive under the covers? She’s on an eco trip and only flushes her toilet once a week? No. She… shock… sometimes wears the same pyjamas she woke up in ‘for like six hours’.

Has she never seen Jeremy Kyle? Does she not know the multi-potential-sperminators/daughters-stealing-mothers-neanderthal-boyfriends mess this county is in? Has she never been a student/unemployed/had a Tuesday off?

Is this some kind of weird ploy to get Ashley back? He is all over skanks like Lohan on a note and a mirror. Like Katona on doner and sauce. Like Britney on a Marlboro and a wee cry. You get the picture. Man up Tweedy, closest to skanky you’ve ever been is washing Ashley’s grannie panties.

I often find the best way to have all arguments with my parents is through universally-viewable social networking sites. I also find the best time to take to said social networking sites is 5am after a nice relaxing night of falling into exotic plants and drunk-dialling old girlfriends.

So that’s why I like Lindsay Lohan. She is like an American equivalent of Kerry Katona, in that she has the classic ‘can’t live with you/can’t live without you’ relationship with the press. She recently took to her Twitter with wisdom that would have Confucius confused, ‘tired and emotional’ rambles about people hurting her like Papa  Lohan had. Cue Papa Lohan going on the mother (or father?) of all rants which I don’t even have the energy to regurgitate (www.twitter.com @MichaelJLohan and @lindsaylohan)

Lindsay Lohan should be allowed to do what she wants. She should move to Glasgow. Here no-one would bat an eyelid if she was slithering up and down the town dribbling on herself and shouting incoherently. Jumping Jacks would fling open its doors and pop a bottle of Lambrini specially for her.

Ok, well in the form of her husband and not actual weight loss. Although would anyone be surprised/care? Former national treasure (think everyone wishes she was buried treasure now) Kerry Katona has spilt with her husband Maaaaerk. Don’t sob into your ready meal just yet- those two are more on and off than her size 10 wardrobe. After going to a fat camp, rumour has it that SHE cheated on him and now they have split.

Cue photoshopped exclusive interview in *undisclosed celebrity weekly mag that has gives her, Katie Price and rota of WAGs the (column) inches they crave*, drunken nights out pulling Donner Kebabs, national outcry and finally, damning statement by her sperminator, Fat-Westlife aka Bryan McFadden.

The whole scenario is not even worth mentioning anymore (I apologise). If we all stop paying attention to them they might go back to where they belong- Jeremy Kyle.