I am back, and this time, it's not really personal, but these people still get on my tits and have nothing really to offer the population of this planet...
- Jordan and Peter Andre. How much plastic can you pump into a pair? And I am not talking about Jordan's infamous appendages. These two "people" bring vacuousness to a new depth. She is a huge-titted, thich-as-shit model; he is a plastic muscled failed Aussie popstar. Who in their right minds wants to read about their pointless lives, let alone watch the tossers on TV?
- Kerry Katona. Words fail me here. "Why?" doesn't really convey all the horror that this woman's face and name conjours up for me. You just know that if she hadn't become a "celebrity", she'd still be in Iceland, only this time attempting to stuff a frozen chicken in her pants as she wheels her brood of snotty oiks about in a push chair. Chav trailer trash. A scratter.
- Jeff Greene. You are probably thinking - who? Jeff Greene I have picked on in particular, just because I have seen him on TV tonight, but his entry here also covers a multitude of sinners. These are the people who are famous only for appearing on things like "The Top 50 Stunning Soap Moments", or "The All Time 100 Most Embarrassing Bodily Functions" as talking heads slagging off something or someone else. Jeff Greene, I believe, originally was a stand up comedian, but he was pants, but luckily enough for him he obviously knows someone at either the BBC or Channel 4, because you can rest assured, the next time either of these channels wheels out another "Top 25 Reasons to Carry on Breathing", Jeff will be on there being twinkly, cheeky and a wanker.
- Nicky Grahame. This is the stupifyingly thick, ugly little cow who was on Big Brother in 2006. Her biggest ambition in life is (get this) to marry a Premiership Footballer so she can spend his money. This woman is not even a WAG. She is a WAG wannabe, which is about as low and pathetic as life gets really. Her constant whining, tantrums and screams of "who is she? Who is she? REALLY? Who is SHE?" whilst wearing a swimsuit which was more of a couple of bits a string than a costume, and all the time grimacing with a face like fucking Blakey off "On The Buses" was enough to make you want to put your foot through the screen.
- Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. Do I really have to spell this one out? A stupid spoilt tart with a body like an ironing board, a nose soon to part company with her face and a voice like a horse box being driven repeatedly over a cattle-grid. Go away!
Don't go anywhere folks! I am just warming up. More soon...
