In: Lucy Mecklenburgh

I drift in and out of The Only Way Is Essex like a Reece Witherspoon film, or traffic when I’m high on Valium. But, this girl. Breaking up with Mario was the best thing the girls ever done. Not that her private life is the least bit interesting. But that new body and those new outfits have given me a new icon. She even has that slightly lazy eye that celebrities get when they get a little too thin – Mischa Barton had it for years. At the moment, every photo shoot is a bit sluttier and bit more airbrushed than the last – natural beauty, the way it should be…

Out: Slutty Preteens

At a recent trip to Thorpe Park, I assumed it was the sketty toddlers of Staines that thought it was appropriate to wear midriff-bearing tops that reveal their puppy fat midriffs. Yes, crops are in – but those bellies that bulge over waistbands are not. I’m dreading next week’s heat wave, they’ll be out in force like a hoard of budget jezzebell zombies. How do they think they look good? Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that poor people don’t have stylists. What they do have is a goddamn attitude problem. I saw these two little lesbians, about 11 or so, look me up and down, giggle and whisper. Firstly, everybody knows you don’t talk about someone’s outfit quietly and without pointing, it’s just rude. Secondly, when you’re chanelling the cast of Roseanne as your style icons, you shouldn’t be throwing stones from that third storey, one-bedroom flat in Catford in the first place.

Like, who are they?

Then this little faggot with a Justin Beiber (or perhaps Ellen Degeneres) haircut wearing Umbro trainers has the gall to look at me like he has all the knowledge in the world. I’ve got condoms older than him. Get da fuck outta here.

In: Sex Tapes

Lucy Meck follows in Kim K and Ray J’s position(s).

… Speaking of Lucy Meck – everyone’s talking about the alleged Lucy and Dan sex tape. Damn – that is a tape that we would kill to see. Although with the size of her waist and the (imagined) size of his dong – I’m surprised the girl ain’t on crunches… Or being treated for a punctured lung. And you know it was one dutty tape by the way she was all smiling like the cat that got the cream – yeah she got the cream alright, all over her face, in her hair, no doubt. Still, it seems the fad is making a comeback. And it makes you wonder about the virality of the tapes you’ve made. Perhaps publically slagging off your ex-lovers new boyfriend wasn’t such a funny idea. Especially as the tape of you two playing hide the salami in a hotel shower was on his camera.

Out: Any Bed That Isn’t A Bed

Don’t you just hate it when you go out for one drink and then end up in Soho’s tackiest gay bar until 3am. And then you trip over, land on a night bus – taking the nearest stranger with you – and you must have banged your head because somehow you’ve woken up on top of them. Yeah, those nights. And it’s not even glamorous when you’re both on a two seater sofa – not even a bed – a sofa. What is wrong with men in this city having a normal bed?!

> The one that had a mattress on the floor…
> The other one that had a mattress on the floor…
> The one that was bigger than the bed himself…

Seriously, I get that we’re in a recession but having a normal bed is like Ke$ha wearing a bad outfit – it’s essential daily living. And he wasn’t a small man either. It was kind of like the story of The Princess and the Pea – only in this story the Princess was a drunken gay boy and the pea was a 15 stone man. Thankfully, I wasn’t so drunk that we’d had sex… I mean letting someone blow you after offering you their ikea sofa to sleep on is just being polite, right?

In: Demi Levato

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rwvGMfOrzBo&w=560&h=315]

It was enough that she brought us ‘Heart Attack’ (minus the video), but her next single ‘Two Pieces’ is just beyond. Especially when every time you hear it you have fond memories…. or should that be fondled memories? Obviously, no song is gonna be bad when it reminds you of getting naked with a hot boy. She undoubtedly has an amazing voice and the drop of the final chorus is the one. 

Out: Nosey Checkout Assistants

Bon Qui Qui set a standard for inappropriate Customer Service.

Seriously, why do people that work in customer service only come in two types of people; so ‘riveted’ with their job that they look like they’re about to splatter their brains over your shopping or so damn talkative I feel like I’m being cross-examined by a pushy lawyer? Oh yeah, because customer service is so depressing if you don’t make conversation the hours drag worse than Alex Reid.

I’m sure they’re just being polite – and possibly born partially retarded – but after a day of wanting to hang myself from reading about people’s holidays and relationship statuses (reminding me that not only is there no possible bit of sunshine in sight, there’s also no man either), the last thing I wanna do is talk about my day. THEN they start asking, “so what do you do for a living?” Da fuck!? If I wanted you to know my personal life, I’d give you my Twitter handle. So there’s a few ways you can handle the situation…

a) “I’m a prostitute” – And watch that bitches face drop.
b) “I wear a hairnet and serve fast food to overweight teenagers” – and watch the look of sympathy for somebody doing something (slightly) more depressing than them.
c) Give them the Eva Longoria one minute finger, put your hand into your pocket/bag, take out the cigarette packed, withdraw a Malboro Light, fire it up, and inhale before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into their face.