Tuesday, July 17, 2007


Until a few minutes ago I was convinced that that whining hilton piece of rubbish was the last human being I would ever want to meet.

But I just saw something on the increasingly useless television about an utter utter twizz-head called posh/victoria, appendage to a man called david who kicks balls around a big green oblong and has nice hair.

Jesus fuck... where, exactly, is evolution taking us?


Kathryn said...

I've always thought that Posh cast a spell or did some voodoo on the Beckham Boy because she doesn't seem very friendly or very attractive (or is that just me?).

David looks very sweet and friendly and I would like him if he wasn't a sell-out (c'mon! when is football in America going to reach the status it is in the rest of the world? Just because of this Brit's magical feet? Pfft) and if he would shut his trap and never speak again. It isn't right. High-pitched vocals don't suit him.

God, I'm cranky today. Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed or whathaveyou.

Kathryn said...

Just saw this in the NY Post (Page Six) by Cindy Adams:

EXCUUUUUUSE me, but enough already with Posh and Becks, or Pish and Tush or whatever's the name of these overhyped, overbleached Brits who came to take the Colonies by storm. The Spice one's burbled it's difficult for her to have privacy. Really? She did a Vanity Fair cover, another magazine cover, a salacious photo inset, a "Today" interview and those chopped-up, cheap-looking sprayed hairs have posed for whoever has a Polaroid. Privacy? I'll tell her how to have privacy: Just lock that skinny rump inside that 32,000 -square-foot house and leave us all alone.

debz said...

hehe you said balls

Lee B. said...

I wish they'd fuck off to another planet.

And shittingly, I will probably take another look at the show... just to seeif it really is that awful.

Debz - you said pink bits. Thanks for sending the photos. Going to take a photo of Ann's pink bits and send them to you.