Having been harping on about New York and its men for nigh on 30 years now, there’s not a lot left to say. So I’m taking my Fendi baguette with cheese and pickle to an outlet where I can be truly fabulous – welcome to Carrie Bradshaw’s Celebrity News, only in The Sloppy Dog.
As I sat around a Manhattan restaurant table with my friends eating nothing, I got to thinking about the rumours that the Spice Girls are to regroup. Apparently, Posh and Sporty have put a Stop to it. They think it would be Too Much work for them, and they don’t Wannabe touring at this stage. As I Holler for the bill and bid my friends Goodbye, I found myself thinking, this isn’t really newsworthy at all – but you know how I love my puns.
Later that night, as I sat at my laptop cross-legged in my vest and knickers, I got to thinking: could Brad and Angelina actually be tying the knot? Is Ange ready for the Pittfalls of matrimony? Or will marriage be a Jolie good laugh for them?
And finally, as I walked across town wearing a retarded fucking tutu, I found myself pondering Michael Jackson’s closure of Neverland, after he backpaid his staff overdue wages. Let’s hope he’s not in the red – he’s already been white and black. I wonder if he paid them using plastic?
I’m all out of witty wordplay. Time to eat me some cheesecake and pretend I’m over Big.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
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