Posts Tagged ‘Peter Andre’

NewsGush – Marsh vs Price

August 28, 2008

According to some guff on the GMTV website, Jodie Marsh – glamour model and ‘TV Personality’ – suffered bullying at school because of her nose.

Jodie Marsh revealed on GMTV this morning she was cruelly called ‘plastic face’ at school after having a nose-job.

Talking on the breakfast TV show about the increase in teenagers having plastic surgery as a result of bullying, the glamour model admitted that after she underwent cosmetic surgery at the age of 15 – she was bullied at school even more.

“I did have a nose job because of the bullying – because they made me feel so embarrassed and ashamed and ugly and hideous about it” said Jodie.

“I don’t think surgery is an answer to bullying, certainly not. Because my bullying then got worse after I had my nose done because then they started calling me ‘plastic face’, or ‘don’t stand in the sun – you’ll melt.’But I felt better, I felt absolutely amazing afterwards.”

What she doesn’t say is that she originally fucked up that very nose by playing Hockey at Brentford School, where she was privately educated.

Anyhoo, she claims to have had plastic surgery on said hooter at 15 after being bullied about and it was following the surgery that the bullying got worse. She was called ‘plastic nose’, heaven forefend! Sounds like her tormenters were as imaginative as the tormented.

In fairness to Marsh she’s always moaned about being bullied, Celebrity Big Brother viewers were privy to a disgraceful and completely unwarranted attack on her by cunts Barrymore and Burns precisely because she was ‘Jodie Marsh’ and the result is the nightmare we witness shoving its bum into the photographer’s lens every time someone releases so much as an eggy guff.

Anyone can see that under that nose and make-up and wotnot is a deeply insecure person who feels the need to put it about a bit in order to be adored. In addition to the growing collection of dreadful tattoos, she’s had her tits done now – something she vowed never to do – and just about any other bit of cosmetic reconstruction on the menu. Why? Because she’s insecure and fame hungry in a way that takes precedence over money.

She can offer the world nothing, yet like Jordan (who seems to have succeeded in achieving vast sums of wealth by manipulating the press and public alike) desperately keeps trying to force herself into the public eye by wearing as little as possible.

Unlike Jordan, though, she’s despised way out of context for what she’s actually done. She’s not invaded Poland has she? Or, more pertinently, she’s not leaked a sex video. She doesn’t wave her clout about in public, she doesn’t pretend to write fucking books about Donkeys, she chooses instead to dress like a trollop and involve herself at the lowest possible echelon of tabloid TV. In this respect she shares that gem-paste tiara with Jordan, except Marsh only exploits herself. She leaves her family, disabled children et al out of it.

In a way we can see Jodie as a feminist, unlike Jordan who seems to have become a fucking role model for little girls -and in my opinion poses much more of a danger to the psyche of the younger generation of females by muddling up sex, pink ponies and wealth. Men and women seem to despise Marsh without prejudice and while the likes of Callum Best stalk the paparazzi, I’m not entirely sure why.

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Katie & Peter: The Baby Diaries

July 24, 2007

Sick and wrong 

Ok, before I get started I want to make it quite clear that even upon writing this article, I haven’t put myself through a whole episode of this series of self-indulgent hyper-cack, but then why would I? Just noticing that it exists is enough of an excuse to vent my spleen. And let’s face it, who needs to watch it? The content is irrelevant, if not self explanatory; It’s that fat-nosed, pregnant attention-whore Jordan lolling pointlessly about with her gargling elf of a husband poncing excitedly by her side like a neutered and bloated spaniel wagging his little trouser tail.

I confess however, that I watched a whole mind-shafting 15 minutes before coming to my senses and doing myself the favour of tuning out. In that I time I witnessed Katie Andre Jordan Price wobbling about to some music like a slaggish bouncy castle with her unborn child being ragged about inside. To complete this horror sequence, the outlandishly squat creature known as ‘Peter’ was frantically frotting himself against her baby-bearing frame like a randy adolescent at a school disco. No wonder her other fuck-trophy Harvey was born with his optic nerves detached after spending the best part of a year being rattled about like a galstone in a pig’s bladder.

Next, David Gest’s stupid apocalyptic fizzog appeared on screen to add an eerie supernatural effect to an already bizarre programme. I’m not sure quite what service he was offering, as I wasn’t paying the required attention. All I noticed was that his darkly robed body was looking like a priest’s fevered nightmare.

Finally, I saw the dozy tit-beast almost reduced to a pant-shitting due to what she descibed as her ‘needle-phobia’ during a visit to her G.P. Maybe having been breached by the Andre-needle once to often has provoked this reaction, or maybe she was afraid that one false move by the spike-weilding quack would have her tits wilting like a tramp’s cheap, flimsy, dirty, stinking, cum-spattered lilo that’s been snagged on a skanky bit of bone in a butcher’s doorway.

Among these sequences there was plenty of equally meaningless footage which was so damaging to the intellect I was afraid my frontal lobe may begin to bleed at any time. I can honestly say that having a big dump leaves me feeling more entertained than viewing the activities of this pair of village idiots.

Their careers seem to consist of fly-on-the-wall type glimpses into the day-to-day workings of their own careers. Careers which incidentally, would not exist without such public attention upon the supposed ‘careers’ in the first place. So really, the careers don’t even actually exist. If it wasn’t so annoyingly ridiculous it would be genius. I cannot begin to grasp the point of the programme from a viewers perspective and struggle to imagine anyone out there actually caring about these substance-free parasites, or what happens to them. What do folk gain from watching shit such as this? I doubt viewers are tuning in because they can’t wait to hear what Peter Andre says next. And if you’re a sad loner watching in the hope of getting an eyeful of some good ol’ jug action then you’ll be disappointed. It’s not even good for a wank unless you’re keen on shuffling one out over a fully-clothed, sprog-hauling, has-been cock-charmer.