Thank God for Heather Mills! Perhaps I should rephrase that - Yoko Ono thanks God for Heather Mills because since her arrival on the world stage, those who once said "Oh no" to Yoko are now saying "Oh yes, she's the best." It seems that the world at large has re-evaluated this Japanese beauty and finally recognised her as the talented and cutting edge artist she is and always has been. OK, so maybe that is pushing it but her status as the most vilified woman in popular culture has been taken over by Heather "Publicity Stump" Mills and many now regard Yoko as, well, human. No longer do people feel the need to wash out their mouths with drain cleaner after uttering her name. No longer do people feel the need to re-enact Lemmings upon hearing a single note of Walking on Thin Ice. The turn-around has been quite extraordinary. Yoko is now able to walk the streets without having to worry about people yelling abuse at her, her car hasn't been stolen in over a year and amazingly, this last Christmas, she even received three Christmas cards. While this may not seem like much, for Yoko, it was, as she hadn't received anything wishing her warm wishes since John Lennon first inserted his walrus into her strawberry fields. Those three cards are now part of a conceptual art piece entitled Seasons of Greetings, Heather is a Cunt (Part III).
In honour of Yoko's ascension to purveyor of all things not Heather, I've compiled a small list of details about our beloved Yoko which I hope convey just a small sense of what Ms. Ono, the myth, the woman, the artist, is really about.
Contrary to popular belief, Yoko did not break up the Beatles. However, she was responsible for the demise of Blue. Now you know why all those rumours of a comeback have never come to fruition
Yoko believes everything is art - except anything Paul McCartney has done in the last 30 years. That includes Pegleg Mills.
Yoko insisted upon referring to the remains of the World Trade Center as installation art.
Yoko is the responsible for one of life's most puzzling questions: What came first - The egg or the Yoko?
Yoko refers to John Lennon's son as an art project gone wrong. No wonder he had salt water in eyes.
Yoko's first born Kyoko recently worked with Janet Jackson on her album Discipline. Yoko, it's me!
Yoko influences include Russian avant-garde art of 1920s, Japanese conceptual poetry of the 1940s and the 2006 Lindsay Lohan comedy Just My Luck.
Under that hair lay the hopes and dreams of millions of people.
Did you ever play Bloody Mary as a kid? You know that game, the one where you say her name five times into a bathroom mirror and then turn of the light. She is then supposed to appear behind you where she proceeds to slit your throat. It’s a fun game when you’re young but sadly, I’m here to report, she never actually appears. Sure, urban legends abound about supposed deaths at the hand of this woman but, like Dusty Springfield once said, nothing has been proved. Disappointed but still seeking a thrill, I recently decided to mix up the game a bit and replace Mary’s name with that of a few rotten hags from the celebrity world. I first tried Helen Hunt but upon turning off the light, all I was left with was a slight queasy feeling and a craving for seafood. I next turned to Sharon Osbourne but all that gave me was a lack of purpose and two unnecessary children. I thought about repeating the names of the Spice Girls but as their recent reunion proved – nothing good can come from them. After not having much success in conjuring any celebrity demons, it finally hit me who I should conjure up - The music world’s greatest ogre, the one woman who has caused more destruction than Hurricane Katrina, call her Miss Ross herself – Diana Ross. This woman has scared me since my youth. In fact, I used to lie awake at night afraid that she would burst into my room and swallow my soul or worse, sing the Theme From Mahogany . Her reign of terror has been with me forever and in hopes of breaking free from her powerful grip, I offer you a list of myths and legends that surround this unrelenting monster. Although like the legend of Bloody Mary, no proof of these has ever arisen, I hope by reading this list I bring light to a woman that hasbeen haunting the world for far too long.
Miss Ross and Godzilla have never been seen in the same room together. Make of that what you will.
Miss Ross once had one of her children killed when they dared mention that she may need a haircut.
Despite what she says, nobody loved her in The Wiz.
Miss Ross allegedly thinks the Holocaust was funny. Other things that supposedly amuse her include September 11, cot death and global warming.
Miss Ross campaigned to have hit and runs recognised as an Olympic sport. I bet Halle Berry wished her campaign had been successful.
If you climbed to the top of her hair you’d reach heaven. However, I’m sure you would soon slide down to the flaming pits of hell so I wouldn’t recommend trying this one.
Deeply hurt by The Automatic’s biographical song Monster, Miss Ross has avoided coming over hills ever since. Her tour of San Francisco proved quite troublesome.
Up until 1987, Miss Ross was unaware that other people existed. Since her discovery, she has decided to remain oblivious to the entire human race. She actually still believes that she sings all of Endless Love. (That includes the Mariah Carey/Luther Vandross version).
Miss Ross entitled her memoirs Secrets of a Sparrow only because publishers felt her original title, Secrets of Satan, was too controversial.
The only two words that can make her cry; dream and girls. Otherwise, she has no use for human emotions.
It’s been almost a week since the delight that was Eurovision and I think enough time has passed for me to have taken it all in and make comment on the festivities of 2008. I don’t know about you but when it all comes to an end I’m left feeling quite depressed. All the build-up, all the excitement then poof, like Javine’s career, it’s all over. With this in mind, I have decided that New Year’s Eve is no longer sufficent for marking the passing of another year and in its place we should use the Eurovision song contest as our signifier that another 12 months have gone by. Just a suggestion. Anyhow, I want to offer you my thoughts about this year’s event that you may or may not find interesting (probably more of the latter). I’m also using this opportunity to make as many references to Javine as possible. Here, in order of performance, is my rundown of the countries that competed in EV 2008:
Romania: Nico & Vlad - Pe-o Margine de Lume (On the Edge of the World) If this is a love song (I guess) then why does it feel so painful? And why are they singing off key? Whose idea was it to open with this? This song left me questioning the world and my very place in it. I don’t like to dig deep within myself so for next year Romania please give me what I want: a fun 3 minute pop song that doesn’t make me have an existential crisis. I hate this song!
UK: Andy Abraham – Even If Why does the country that gives us so much great music every other day of the year insist upon picking Eurovision as the day to highlight their very worst? Rumour has it that Andy Abraham is just Javine with a shaved head and better teeth (That’s Javine reference #3 if you don't count the heading). Terry Wogan may think it’s the “best entry in years” and he may be right but, best entry or not, it’s still pretty pathetic.
Albania: Olta Boka –Zemren E Lame Peng (We Put Our Hearts at Stake) They may have put their hearts at stake but this song left me wanting to put a stake through my heart. Due to a lack of stakes, I just ended up jabbing myself repeatedly with a fork in hopes of elevating the pain that was this song. It did the trick but only just.
Germany: No Angels - Disappear The song title says it all really but you’d be hard pressed to find anywhere to stash these broads. And even though they like to think of themselves as women, I disagree for I have it on good authority (So not Javine then obviously – no #4 folks) that at least two of them were not born that way. But Eurovision loves that shit so nobody really cares. Crap song!
Armenia: Sirusho –Qele Qele(Come On, Come On) I liked this song at first but upon subsequent listens I’ve become less impressed. The opening of the song reminded me of Vanessa Amorosi's Absolutely Everybody but thankfully it quickly moved away from anything sounding like that dirty truck driver. Still, not that bad.
Bosnia: Laka –Pokusaj (Try) Finally, a great song with a performance to match. I found this song to be a biting comment on the institution of marriage (that explains the brides) and its consequences (and that therefore explains the hanging up of washing on the line). Perfection!
Israel: Boaz – Ke'ilu Kan (The Fire in Your Eyes) Being a real life Jew I am a tad biased but I did love this and predict it will be popular at Bar Mitzvah's for years to come. I especially liked when the other guys joined the singer in what looked to be an all male, all Jewish version of West Side Story. Nice touch guys! Shalom.
Finland: Terasbetoni – Missa miehet ratsastaa (Where Men Ride) No thanks!
Croatia: Kraljevi Ulice & 75 Cents - Romanca(Romance) If you liked this then I hope you made the most of it because looking at the majority of people in this act, they won’t be around for long. For awhile I thought the old rapper was Kylie Minogue but I have since been told it wasn’t. Sure did look like her though. On the whole, pretty boring.
Poland: Isis Gee – For Life I liked her teeth. Must have cost a pretty złoty (That’s Polish currency for those who don’t know. Thanks Google).
Iceland: Euroband – This Is My Life A man who was G.A.Y in every sense of the word and loving it. His chubby female friend was only slightly less G.A.Y but loving it all the same. In conclusion - Euroband = G.A.Y & F.U.N.
Turkey: Mor Ve Otesi - Deli(Insane) If I was a parent I would not let my children anywhere near this band for I think they are actually real-life Satanists (along with Javine) who seem to be, correct me if I’m wrong, promoting the benefits of mental illness. Sick fuckers!
Portugal: Vania Fernandes – Senhora do Mar (Negras Aguas) - Lady of the Sea A little known fact my friends is that the lady of the sea only ventures onto land to feed. And by the looks of this ocean mistress, she’s been spending quite a bit of time on terra firma of late. I’d throw her back into the ocean myself for this was surely the most boring song of the night.
Latvia: Pirates Of The Sea – Wolves Of The Sea Another sea themed song but this time without a singing whale. This performance was everything the last two Pirates of the Caribbean movies should have been: Fun, spirited and minus Keira Knightley. Loved it!
Sweden: Charlotte Perrelli - Hero She’s not Robyn but great all the same. This performance incorporated the best matching outfit/microphone combination I’ve seen since Barbra Streisand last appeared on Oprah. Although, like the “girls” from Germany, I question just how much of her is really female, I did find her to be quite the natural beauty. Meow! Song fucking rocks.
Denmark: Simon Mathew – All Night Long The worst chorus since Mel B’s Today. Bland, pointless but ultimately harmless (Javine anyone). I did like him and his hat though.
Georgia: Diana Gurtskaya – Peace Will Come I must admit that I did not realise that there was a country named Georgia. The only Georgia's I knew about was the one in America and the one Jane Fonda played in that wonderful Lindsay Lohan movie Georgia Rule. What a romp that was. Anyhow, because the singer was blind I will tread very carefully and avoid any cheap blind person jokes except this one: Her performance, like herself, lacked focus! “Her glasses, she still can’t see without her glasses.”
Ukraine: Ani Lorak – Shady Lady Now this is how it’s done. I do believe that the shady lady they sing of is a distant cousin to that dark lady Cher sang about many years ago who lit the candles one by one. Ms. Lorak looked like Catherine Zeta Jones (and therefore Ruslana) but unlike Mrs. Michael Douglas, this lady was obviously under fifty. Great staging and a great song. My favourite of the night.
France: Sebastien Tellier - Divine So arty. And like most art, I may not get it but I sure do like it. Fin.
Azebaijan: Elnur & Samir – Day After Day I will not comment on a country that doesn’t exist!
Greece: Kalomira – Secret Combination This girl is asking for it. Secret combination, what the fuck is that all about. What is so secret about a combination that she has written on toilet walls all over the world? I suspect you don’t even need a “secret combination” to get into this girl. She’s like a casino: open all hours (although unlike a casino, there is no age limit for those wishing to enter – unless you’re Javine – hope you’re keeping count). Some come inside and enjoy this slightly entertaining show.
Spain: Rodolfo Chikilicuatre – Baila el Chiki Chiki (Dance The Chiki Chiki) I was especially taken by the pink dancer who was “acting” drunk. She reminded me much of myself most nights: too many drinks and unsure of where I am. I like that and I liked this song.
Serbia: Jelena and Bora –Ora (Hora) I take it Jelena was the one singing but who is Bora? Too lazy to show up obviously (put your hand down Javine). Good voice, started of well but it lost me by the end.
Russia: Dima Bilan – Believe They won so why bother commenting on this shit song.
Norway: Maria Haukass Storeng– Hold On Be Strong A lovely song with a singer that somewhat reminded me of Kim Wilde (if she if she’d only come in from the garden). I liked this song a lot. I could make out to this song if only I had someone to make out with. (Insert awkward silence). No takers – didn’t think so. Ok then, as we are at the end of this round-up and discussing Norway, I’m going to leave you with an exert from a book I remember as a kid that had a Norwegian theme. Enjoy.
“The cat from Norway got stuck in the doorway. But my cat likes to hide in boxes.”
Boxes indeed! And one more for the road: Javine!
(Apologies if I got a bit lost in translation but, as is quite obvious, I have enough trouble with English let alone attempting to make sense of over 20 other languages)
Here is Luminita Anghel with Let Me Try. This 2005 Eurovision entry is perhaps the greatest song to ever be entered into the competition. It also doubles as an unoffical theme song to Titanic. If I had my own country this would be the national anthem. I hope you love it as much as I do.
Let’s face it - the big man upstairs is pretty fucking lazy. Or is he just a fan of recycling because it seems to me that he only has a limited number of moulds to make people out of. People are all starting to look the same. Sure, sometimes he adds a big nose here and an unfortunate chin there (Sorry Reese Witherspoon) but essentially, there’s a limit to how many ways a person can look. And although we, the mighty human race, have become adept at tinkering with God’s work, you can’t escape the fact that although you might think you look great and different from everybody else, there’s probably an inordinate number of people who look just like you and generally, look a hell of a lot better.
Recently I have been unable to deny the fact that one of the music world’s freshest faces may not be that fresh after all, as it looks like God went and dipped into his trusty old bag of tricks to create yet another person. He took one part Nancy Sinatra, that boot loving, sugar town dwelling, product of nepotism and ultimate funny dame (thanks Kathy Griffin) and meshed her with that 1980s denim aficionado who spent her youth toying with electricity while crafting a nose she did like, Deborah "Don’t call me Debbie” Gibson. So what does one get when you add these two to the celebrity mixing bowl? You get Katie White from The Ting Tings (You probably already realised that from the heading). Although I do wish God would branch out a little bit and try and come up with some new styles of people, I must admit I do like his work. Katie is quite the lovely lass and The Ting Ting’s album is very nice indeed. Nancy and Deborah both had their moments in their day but Ms. White shows a little more promise in the music department. Or then again, she may disappear as quickly as she came.
In any case, I’m looking forward to the time when these three women meet and compare faces. Of course, it won’t be your usual meeting of hi, how are you, love your nose. Oh no! I picture the three coming together in a hip underground bar where The Ting Ting’s will be playing to a crowd of 40 amazing people. Nancy will be outside sucking down on a fag as she remembers the days when her boots were sexy and dangerous and didn’t have to have corn pads in them while Deborah will be inside boring people with information about her latest batch of lame ‘mature’ songs that nobody will ever want to hear. They’ll meet as Katie leaves the club. Nancy will notice the other two first and as she tries to suppress her smokers cough and control the mucus dripping from her mouth, Deborah, coming out after Katie, will accost both of them with stories about a batch of lame ‘mature’ songs she has written in the last three minutes that she thinks they should collaborate on. Katie, unsure of who these two women are makes her to a waiting cab and watches as Nancy looks through her purse in hopes of finding a tissue to clean up the mess she has made while Deborah rings up her Mom to tell her that she just met the legendary Frank Sinatra (Debbie is farsighted) and some chick that may or not be someone she knows.
She then goes on to tell her that she will soon be working with them on an amazing ‘mature’ song Debbie has written about feelings that she hopes will return her to the top of the charts. At this point, Mother Gibson drifts of into a wonderland where, despite the uphill battle she would face, she dreams of being the mother of Amy Winehouse. At least when it comes to Amy, the end is near. With Deborah, who knows how long her shit will last.
Oh the world of celebrity: Just when you thought you were being of the moment by loving a hip new band you find out the lead singer is an amalgamation of an old 60’s singer whose arse is now her face and an former teen idol whose face you wouldn’t arse (I don’t know what that means either).
Watch below as Nancy (or is it Katie) makes one of the greatest stage exits man-kind has ever witnessed.
Genuinely surprised to see us are you Sigrid. How would we know?
Sometimes being an award winning actress isn't enough. As a serious thespian, you crave more than a fickle industry will offer you. Your pursuit for artistic excellence has left you feeling shortchanged as the roles for women of a certain age are few and far between. But undeterred, Aussie actress Sigrid Thornton has made a brave and surprising move to fight an ageist entertainment industry by reinventing herself as Asian. It seems she loved Memoirs of a Geisha so much that she decided if you enjoy it, why not be it. I do commend her for taking such a bold move but as host of the show What's Good For You, surely she should know that not only is limiting yourself to one facial expression not such a smart move for an actress, but good roles for Asian actors really are unfortunately almost non-existent. The entertainment industry isn't exactly brimming with enthusiasm when it comes to casting Asians in lead roles. Perhaps she's hoping for an Australian version of Grey's Anatomy (she'd be perfect for the Sandra Oh role) or a sitcom re-imagining of Miss Saigon.
Despite the obstacles an Asian actress faces, Siggy Thornt-Chong hasn't let that worry her if her recent appearance at the TV Week Logie Awards is any indication. It seems she is having a wonderful time as a middle-aged Asian actress; you couldn't wipe the smile of her face. At least it seemed that way. Who knows, maybe her family had just been killed in a head on collision with a delivery van but she was unable to express it facially due to the fact that her mouth no longer closes and her eyes are permanently at half mast. Poor darl. Let's hope there is a sea change in the air for Siggy and someone casts her as Margaret Cho in a made for television movie based on her life. Or she could try her luck as a J-Pop singer. Whatever our little Geisha girl does next, I'm sure, like her face, it will be surprising.
Sigrid in 1999: Now she has the face to match the outfit.
Just when I thought love couldn’t exist in the celebrity world along comes the union of crazy herself Mariah/Mimi/MooMoo/E=MC² Carey and Nick Cannon-I-Get-Some-Attention-By Marrying-A-High-Profile-Celebrity. It warms my heart to see two people who obviously care for each other and have thought long and hard before entering the sacred institution of marriage. I love that they are not afraid to show their love despite a world that has and will continue to unfairly judge them. I have decided to take the high road and congratulate the happy couple on what will surely be weeks of wedded bliss. Despite my exhilaration, I am left with a giant problem: what do I get them for a wedding gift? What do you get a woman who has everything and a man who will soon acquire a considerable chunk of that everything. It's a problem I believe many of you will be facing so, after doing some Einstein like thinking, I have come up with a list of suggestions that I hope will help.
A commemorative plate with a photo of the happy couple on it (Please make sure the plate is plastic as we know that Mariah has had trouble with crockery in the past).
Clothing that fits.
An emancipation machine.
Some backing singers who do not sing her parts during live performances.
A signed photo of her favourite artist, Mariah Carey.
A signed alimony check of his favourite meal ticket, Mariah Carey.
A computer so she can load the wedding video up on "YouTube, YouTube." Listen to the song Touch My Body if you don't get that one.
A cake baked out of rainbows and smiles with marzipan butterflies and glitter edging. Mariah: Did someone say cake!
For him - A good attorney. For her - A good doctor (You just know that Madam Crazy is gonna end up having another breakdown soon).
A Hello Kitty Toaster (It was a wedding after all).
Emmy winner Katherine Heigl is a star! For those who have yet to come to terms with this, then it is about time you did. The woman is a goddess. From bagging out her own movies to taking the art of smoking to new levels, she is every shade of amazing. You really have to admire someone who has had to work with Steven Seagal , Gérard Depardieu and Ellen Pompeo and not only didn’t slit her throat, she went on to win an Emmy and become the next star of the American rom-com. And let us not forget that she also stars in the life affirming Grey’s Anatomy, the greatest show ever been made.
Emmy winner Katherine Heigl, I love you and it is time to make a confession. I’ve been stalking you and recording your every move. Remember those strange noises you thought you heard coming from inside your wardrobe the other night. It was me, pad and pencil in hand, recording the number of times you woke up to have a sneaky cigarette and re-watch your Emmy speech as Josh slept silently beside you. But I don’t want you to be afraid, for I mean you no harm. I simply find everything you do absolutely fascinating. When I’m done I’m going to compile my studies into a book I plan to call The Heigl Bible: Lessons Learnt by Stalking Emmy Winner Katherine Heigl. It will be fabulous! Until then Ms. Heigl, I hope you don’t mind, I’m going to share some of my findings. But never fear, I left out that one thing (KH, you know what I’m talking about).
Katherine likes to piff cigarette butts at people who mispronounce her last name. It’s pronounced High-gull bitches.
She likes to chain smoke while watching her husband perform everyday tasks. Nothing gets her going more than watching him change a flat tire.
She loves to attend weddings and have drunken sex with tubby men (27 Dresses and Knocked Up were documentaries, right?). Of course, she smokes during both events.
In an effort to avoid Ellen Pompeo while on the set of Grey's Anatomy, she has be known to impersonate a corpse.
Katherine is in talks to remake her favourite film, 200 Cigarettes.
She really likes to win emmys and pity those who do not have one.
When asked by a security guard to put out her cigarette during an awards ceremony she huffed and she puffed and threatened to blow his house down.
She enjoys physically threatening her BFF T.R Knight’s boyfriends. You can take the girl out of the trailer park…
For Christmas, she likes to hand out cigarettes and lighters to children in need. And to think we make a big deal about that Geldof freak.
It is widely believed that God is the ultimate creator of all things but I think he has gotten too much credit in the past and it is about time we gave some recognition to some of the unsung heroes from the world of celebrity. These honourable individuals painstakingly toiled away in their tool sheds in the hopes of bettering our everyday lives and the world in which we know. In honour of the ultimate inventor Janice Dickinson, who not only coined the phrase supermodel but invented modelling itself, I offer the first instalment of celebrity inventors who can now rest easy that they are finally getting their dues.
Mariah Carey invented crazy. Katherine Heigl invented smoking. Barbara Streisand invented Jews. Kate Bush invented the bong. Tina Turner invented domestic violence. Young diva Paulini was so inspired she invented the black eye. Dannii Minogue has invented many things. Her sister Kylie – nothing! Betty White invented television. Yoko Ono invented art. Rhianna invented the forehead. Alec Baldwin invented chest hair although Alicia Keys gave him a run for his money. Olivia Newton-John invented Chloe Lattanzi . We all make mistakes. Fergie invented urine. Cheryl Tweedy invented winking and bathroom brawls. Tori Amos invented rape. Lance Armstrong invented cancer. Sheryl Crow found out the hard way. Nicole Kidman invented botox and the pretend pregnancy. Mika has yet to invent anything so perhaps he should stop acting like such a twat. Deborah Harry invented pop music. Alison Goldfrapp invented the wheel chair - Out of necessity. Roisin Murphy invented the hat. She then decided it was also a mask. Clever lady!
A mother and her mistake: Chloe Lattanzi and Olivia Newton-John
Hollywood’s most prominent stick insect has the power to make even the most resilient person physically ill. One look at those dead eyes, bony body and awkward head and the possibility of hurling your entire collection of internal organs is high. What appeal this ‘woman’ has is completely lost on me and I find it difficult to understand why she continues to be cast in anything but cement. The only time I’ve been able to handle her is in Bend it like Beckham where she at least resembled a human being if not quite convinced that she was one. Watching her in anything since has left me with the strong desire to snap her neck. Keira seems to have also found a second career bitching about how hard it is to be Keira and how everything known to man pisses her off. Keira my love, just because you’re outspoken doesn’t mean anybody cares what you say. Quit spraying your nectar, go build a cocoon and morph into something that doesn’t make people want to do Pilates on a cheese grater.
My therapist says my Keira hatred is having a detrimental effect on my health but I disagree. I find it quite therapeutic as it allows me to ignore the real issues in my life and lets me continue to live a fruitless but otherwise pleasant existence. So I hope you’ll forgive my self-indulgence, as in attempt to further my mental health, I offer an alternative list of details about cinemas #1 bobble-head:
If murder was legalised, 7/10 people confessed that they would kill her without hesitation. The remaining percentage said they’d do it whether it was legal or not.
Watching a KeiraKnightley film increases your chances of getting cancer. Those that don’t contract the disease often wish they did, especially if it means never having to watch another one of her films.
She was once so strapped for cash that she couldn’t afford to buy her boyfriend a birthday present so she gave him herpes instead.
Keira is most popular among paedophiles because her body resembles that of a young boy.
Keira changed her middle name to Karen so her initials could be K.K.K (Her actual middle name is Catherine so a simple change of letters would do the job).
Keira discovered the cure for Aids but decided not to share it.
During a party at Judi Dench’s house, Keira proceed to drag her arse along the carpet while taking a dump. Dame Judy is still trying to remove the stain.
Keira’s Indian name is blowswithouthesitation
When choosing a wife, Paul McCartney chose Heather Mills over KeiraKnightley because she was the less c**ty of the two.
Where does one start when it comes to Lady Ciccone? She and her music have been a part of our lives forever and in a life lived openly, I bet you are asking yourself: what can you possibly tell me about her that I don’t already know? Well I’m here to tell you there is much to be told. We’re all familiar with Madonna’s cooch (she’s been flashing it for years) but just how important her cooch has been to her career has, until now, remained a highly guarded secret. But for anyone who has seen the cover of Lady M’s new album Hard Candy will know, the cooch is finally taking a more visible role in her career. In fact, I hear that Madonna may soon bow out of the music business altogether, leaving the door open for her cooch to take over full time. In honour of her cooch’s elevation into the spotlight, I present a selection of little know facts our favourite lady’s hole.
Instead of her old nickname Madge, her cooch insists upon calling her Vadge.
An abandoned collaboration between Madonna's cooch and Tina Turner was entitled Turner and Cooch.
Madonna's cooch conducts enough electricity to power a fan heater for a week.
Her cooch once slapped Jane Fonda during a performance of The Vagina Monologues.
While Madonna is busy trying to save the world with Justin Timberlake, her cooch is busy raising a pod of blue whales.
When her cooch contracted a yeast infection it decided to turn a negative into a positive and open a brewery.
On Thursdays, Madonna conducts an exercise class. (This might explain the tension between her and Jane Fonda).
Her cooch's Kabbalah name is Fester.
This list was just an excuse to repeatedly use the word cooch.
I love Robyn. I really do. She’s like the Gumby of pop music, able to move through different worlds with her trusty orange horse while avoiding the evil grasp of box headed men. Ok, so maybe she’s nothing like Gumby (Although the clip for With Every Heartbeat does look a lot like the show) but I like the idea. I often think about what Robyn is doing at random moments and recently I have actually been having visions, giving me a tiny glimpse into her life. I liken my psychic ability to those of John Edward and Allison Dubois except unlike their abilities, mine are real and at the very least, able to genuinely help people. My powers are still in their infancy so my findings are often brief but I am able to share with you, at this very exact moment, what Robyn is doing right now:
Being Swedish
Despite knowing better, she's wasting her time on a bum like you.
Knitting you mittens and making you pie. Or making you mittens and knitting you pie (My vision was a bit foggy).
Pressing trigger not pressing people button.
Annoyed that Posh Spice stole her hairstyle glory. Why isn't it called the Robyn Bob?
In denial about her role in The Lord Of The Rings.
Working out how much more mileage she can get from her last album.
Curled up in a basket, cleaning her paws and playing with a ball of wool.
Sitting in the backseat of her car waiting to jack you off. What are you waiting for?
Everyone’s favourite singing dinosaur has given us many great performances, often defying doctor’s orders to do so. She has overcome many obstacles in her long life to release four outstanding and diverse albums yet, she still remains somewhat of an enigma. To dispel some of the myths and shed a light on the secret life of our favourite cave girl, I, in conjunction with a leading palaeontologist, present this list of little known 'facts' about Allison Goldfrapp BC:
Despite Singing about riding a white horse, Ms. Goldfrapp rarely rides horses because they hate her.
Ms. Goldfrapp was unhappy with her portrayal in Jurassic Park.
Is she were not a singer, Ms. Goldfrapp would like to have been a pirate, a hooker or a pirate hooker.
Ms. Goldfrapp once slapped a fan who said they loved her in the movie Cocoon.
Ms. Goldfrapp only eats regurgitated food. This is a service fellow Goldfrappian Will Gregory provides.
Ms. Goldfrapp does not find the name Oldfrapp very funny. In fact, the last time she did laugh at something she became quite alarmed and had to lie down.
If she did in fact have a Winnebago, Ms. Goldfrapp would drive around hitting ugly children.
The most common thing overheard backstage at a Goldfrappgig: Ms. Goldfrapp, have you taken your pills? (An obvious joke I know but give me credit for not mentioning anything about Depend Undergarments).
Fuck she's old!
Alison in Jurassic Park: A fairly accurate and flattering portrayal I thought.
Janet’s moistness is legendary and anyone who has had an encounter with Miss Jackson has surely ended up in need of a towel. She’s made a career out of sharing every single aspect of her bodily secretions through song yet, despite her unnecessary candour, there are a number of things she has failed to share. So direct from Janet’s feedbag, here are a few secrets you may not know:
Janet's next tour will be a series of lectures about the joys of having your period.
For a bit of extra cash, Janet provides the moistness for KFC moist towelettes.
By 2010, Janet's albums will only contain interludes.
Janet was somewhat disappointed to discover that Wet'n'Wild was just a theme park containing water slides.
During one of her fat periods, Janet was mistaken for a couch by her sister La Toya.
For a bit fun, Janet likes to make her own home-made lube which she sells at craft markets.
Janet is personally responsible for making millions of people never want to have sex again.
Janet refers to her period as her J-Flow.
Some of Janet's favourite words include damp, squirt, splash, drip, soak, spray, dribble, puddle, sweat, slobber, sprinkle, splatter and slop.
To wet your appetite further, visit Janet at her WEBSITE
All so called 'facts' on this site are meant for entertainment purposes only. This is not a news site. I do not claim that any of the information presented on this site is true nor do I intend for it to be taken as such.
Thank God for Heather Mills! Perhaps I should rephrase that - Yoko Ono thanks God for Heather Mills because since her arrival on the world stage, those who once said "Oh no" to Yoko are now saying "Oh yes, she's the best." It seems that the world at large has re-evaluated this Japanese beauty and finally recognised her as the talented and cutting edge artist she is and always has been. OK, so maybe that is pushing it but her status as the most vilified woman in popular culture has been taken over by Heather "Publicity Stump" Mills and many now regard Yoko as, well, human. No longer do people feel the need to wash out their mouths with drain cleaner after uttering her name. No longer do people feel the need to re-enact Lemmings upon hearing a single note of Walking on Thin Ice. The turn-around has been quite extraordinary. Yoko is now able to walk the streets without having to worry about people yelling abuse at her, her car hasn't been stolen in over a year and amazingly, this last Christmas, she even received three Christmas cards. While this may not seem like much, for Yoko, it was, as she hadn't received anything wishing her warm wishes since John Lennon first inserted his walrus into her strawberry fields. Those three cards are now part of a conceptual art piece entitled Seasons of Greetings, Heather is a Cunt (Part III). 
Happy Xmas Kyoko: I wonder what it is?
