The producers of Celebrity Big Brother have announced that penis drawing blogger Perez Hilton has signed a contract worth £150,000 to enter the CBB house in January.
So, a closeted gay will have his intimate sexual thoughts broadcast on live TV. Oh Celebrity Big Brother – turning “Z-listers” into dumb bitches since 2001. That’s terrible.
Other celebrity contestants who are rumoured to be entering the house are: Katie Hopkins, Calum Best, Danniella Westbrook, Stephen Belefonte and Josie Cunningham.
Actually, the thing I love about Perez is that he’s been waging bitchy slap fights with celebrities for years. The only thing is no one knows why. However, my question today is this:
How in the name of discount vagina spray is Perez going to survive that goblin-faced piece-of-poo Katie Hopkins?
Now that is a bitchy question and one for which I don’t have an answer. Another question. Can two of the world’s ‘most famous entertainers’ ever become friends?
Well why not. I mean, Perez? That smiley face? Yes, anything’s possible.
Anyway lets put these silly questions behind us and draw a penis on a picture of Josie Cunningham instead.
(No, lets not)
Regular readers will know that we don’t normally do politics here on NMi. However, according to some we’re not doing the ‘fifth estate’ the justice it deserves if we don’t throw a bouquet of bitchiness at a politician occasionally.
So behold, Mike D.W – the David Brent of political reporters!
Tony Blair’s name has hit the headlines today. The reason? Well of course it’s that alleged affair with Wendi Deng again.
Earlier this year our former Prime Minister made headlines around the world after it was alleged that he’d had an affair with Rupert Murdock’s wife, Wendi Deng. This prompted Rupert’s grumpy old testicle face to divorce her practically overnight.
This week, in a article titled The loneliness of Tony Blair the esteemed Economist magazine asked Mr Blair a direct question about the alleged affair with Deng. And guess what? Mr Blair refused to answer it.
“This is not something I will ever talk about—I haven’t so far and I won’t now”.
(via: The Economist)
And with that he slammed down his coffee mug with such force that it spilt everywhere and made everyone in the room jump. According to the magazine a large pool of sweat then appeared under Mr Blair’s armpit.
Yes, a nasty business all round.
But is all this entirely fair? After all Arnold Schwarzenegger once said that Tony Blair should rank alongside JFK, Nelson Mandela, Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev as one of the greatest leaders of all time.
Ronald Reagan?! Set the drug sniffer dogs on Arnold!
There. A post on politics. Nearly.
While serving up his annual “Christmas in Barbados” pictures, Simon Cowell went for an old-fashioned paparazzi stroll down the beach. He took his two dogs, Squiddly and Diddly, his gold digging fiancee, Lauren Silverman and the crestfallen tag-a-long we all know as Sinitta.
What a mess.
I’m sure Lauren has told Sinitta a million times that there’s no room for an ex-lover’s shit in her closet. Go away! You’re an ex-girlfriend. No longer relevant, leave us alone!
Poor Sinitta. This Christmas her soul will be crushed every day as the gossip columns fill with pictures of Lauren and Simon walking the beaches of Barbados. Oh Sinitta just audition for BGT, that way you might hear a YES from Simon but then again, maybe not.
Personally, I think Simon should bend Lauren and Sinitta over the bar at the Sandy Lane Hotel. Two twats and a crazy dick – the formula for X-Factor success!
Oh, I nearly forgot. Top marks to Jenny Manning over at the Sun this morning. She opened her article about Simon and Lauren walking on the beach with this;
“LIFE’S a beach if you are one of Simon Cowell’s dogs.”
(via the Sun)
Can’t think what she meant by that.
For the past few days, NMi has been dealing with a blackmailing hacker who just wouldn’t go away. I’ve bitched about it on Twitter a few times. It felt like an obese burping frog had got stuck in our server.
We tried everything but to no avail. NMi was down, our pile of scandalous scribbles seemingly unplugged from the world wide web forever.
I knew it was serious on Tuesday when my web manager looked me in the eye and said, “Stop drinking and help me fix this shit.” He might as well have said, “Just die slowly.” I don’t even know how I’m still alive.
So, on a no booze, no coffee and a no fun diet I requested the help of an expert who can exist on a Salvation Army budget.
It worked! After 53 hours our budget fix-a-trick managed to kick that blackmailer’s ass black, blue and all the way back to Russia. Or wherever. He’s gone now. Without his ransom.
And finally I’ve managed to get to my laptop to drool out some incoherent nonesense about some shit you probably don’t care about.
Yes it’s Alan Carr posing as Cheryl Fernandez-Versini for his upcoming New Year Spectacular. See pic above.
But no, I really don’t want any of you to send me e-mails saying: “I WAS FIRED FOR HAVING A LACE-COVERED ALAN CARR ON MY SCREEN WHILE AT WORK!”
This pic will be on top for the next few hours while I’m lying on my back, mouth wide open, guzzling down the boozeahol.