GAIL PORTER IS ALIVE!
Mood:
lyrical
Now Playing: Na Na Na Na Naa-The Kaiser Chiefs
Topic: I feel quite giddy.
There is no real point to this post. I'm just into the discipline of regular posting. Take note
Sian and
Danny.Excuse me whilst I fight back the tears of empathy I am currently shedding over Gail Porter's bid for attention/suicide attempt.
I have been of the opinion she was a complete halfwit since she said she cried when FHM projected a picture of her arse on to The Houses of Parliament.
What's her problem? I would love my arse projected onto any public building. In fact I feel another of my campaigns coming on. I demand that you all write to Tony Blair and order him to commission a nightly projection of my arse on to The Houses of Parliament. The Project Clairwils Arse Campaign can, I feel only help the Olympic bid. And my mum would be so proud.
Strolling back to the point-Gail Porter. When I heard the news of her cheap publicity stunt/suicide bid, my reaction was- who gives a fuck? Well OK I might have smirked a bit. But lets compare the above with one of her fans whose comment I have kidnapped from a rival website.
Jase Mar 27th, 2005 - 12:37:46 PM
Thank goodness the Dr saved her in time. Depression is an illness that *can* be cured.
Hope she recovers soon, she's very tasty.
Well thats bound to her the world of good eh? Just as well she hadn't lost her looks or Jase would be out with his sawn-off shotgun to finnish the job. Surely he can't be that short of birds to wank over.
Anyway on to more important topics-me. I spent yesterday pottering about the town and bought some pants and a bra.
This is more difficult than you may imagine. The first problem was that all the shops have decided to stock 'pretty and feminine' underwear. Like most Glaswegian women I'm built like a fucking tank, therefore 'pretty and feminine' is, apart from being shit and twee, somewhat unrealistic. So making a virtue of necessity I realised some years ago that the nearest I was getting to sexy was to aim for the 'hoor' look.
After tearing through all the pastel coloured bras and drawers my fellow carthorses were deluding themselves into purchasing I finally located something matching in red and black and reasonably transparent.
And then a woman stole them! I'd rested my bra and pants on a display to look at some reduced tarts drawers and a big fat bird thieved them! She was twice my size at least and had a faint suspicion of a moustache! What did she want with my underwear? I thought about apprehending her but I didn't fancy the idea of cutting about in scanties she'd had her mitts on.
Fortunately I was able to find a suitable alternative. But yuck! What can it all mean? Is it some sort of lesbian mating ritual? If so, all I can say is that the moustachioed witch has got ideas well above her station.
I spent the evening with my sparring partner watching a
Cheaters DVD. The majesty of that show cannot be overstated. To the unfamiliar the format is simple. Every week astonishingly stupid and unattractive Americans summon
Tommy Grand and the team to spy on their partner, who they suspect of shagging around.
Tommy then shows them the videotaped evidence of their partners deceit whilst giving off a faint air of inner gloating. The man simply oozes insincerity as he 'comforts' some minging bloater with words like 'so how do you feel as you think of spending the rest of your life alone?'. I strongly suspect that Tommy Grand has been trained by the CIA to break people.
Then, armed with the evidence the cheatee chases the cheater and co-cheater round a car park shouting JUST DON'T TOUCH ME! as Tommy oozes around uttering his catchphrase 'How could you do this to this woman/man/other?' You really have to see him gesturing towards the eighty stone intellectual Chernobyl of a cheatee in question as he says this to get the full comedy effect.
My favourite on the DVD episodes was the fat dull woman, who for some reason refused to have sex with her fiance.
I think I see where the problem was.
Lord knows, I'm not the most attractive person ever to have drawn breath, but if I looked like her I'd be lying in the middle of the road with diversion signs pointing up my fanny, shouting triple penetration please! I'd fuck animals, close relatives,Daniel and Natasha Beddingfield, the entire shadow cabinet, anything. Beggars cannot be choosers.
Please visit the
Cheaters website. It truly is the gift that keeps on giving. Oh my god!
listen to Tommy Grand/Habeeb's home page!
The lovely picture of my favoutite fallen idol
Mike Tyson is there merely because I fancy him. I have no comment to make on Iron Mike on this post.
Cheerio.
Posted by Clairwil
at 9:26 PM GMT
Updated: 28/03/05 12:02 PM GMT