Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Federline Core

Let's talk about Dame Britney, shall we? Oh yes. Long overdue.

Now Dame Britney Spears and I have a lot in common, you know. We're both from poor white trash, though I hide it a little better by having learned which one's the soup spoon, and it's not really acceptable to find oneself pissed in an alleyway at 3am, wiping a stranger's congealed love-custard off the back of one's legs with a McDonald's napkin.

No, at times like that, you should use a Pret-A-Manger napkin. Much classier.

Oh, and we've both been in for 'knee operations' too; God bless you Britney for trying to get away with that one! We raise our cups to you (mysteriously now a double-D, but don't let that shock you...) in salute to your brazen attitude to the press and public. Of course I made a right song-and-dance about my operation: just little nip and a tuck. Though the Hungarian nurse asked me whether I wanted 'hospital corners' just as I went under; I assumed she was talking about my bed linen and said yes. To this day I'm loathed to look behind my ears just in case I'll find anything untoward. Like washing instructions, or a mint on the pillow.

And we've both starred in little bedroom antics that 'accidentally' got recorded and - whoops, however did that happen - got on the net somehow. I'd just like to say mine was a little more tastefully shot, had more of a plot, got me through university, and is still available from all good outlets for a remarkably cheap £18.99. Do go and get a copy - I could do with a few things - like a new icing bag, what with Christmas coming around. And I think it would be a delightfully ironic thing; for when I'd finished my scene, I looked like I'd been iced by Romeo Beckham in front of a strobe light.

Anyway. We, the Gentlemen Who Can't Catch, have been praying for this moment for two years. Oh, she fell from our glittering graces when she first shacked up with that Fedaline - especially after spurning Justin. Lets not state that he's our ideal catch, but we wouldn't mind checking him for leaks, lets say. Whereas, this laughing stock, this shambling succubus of air came in, riding on your back (don't picture it, gay brethren! Think of Egyptian cotton bedsheets instead!) and demanded to be taken seriously as a rap artist. K-Fed? Oh please. We're glad he's now Fed-Ex. And she can get back to doing proper things instead of squirting out babies and wandering around McDonalds in Daisy Dukes that make her look like uncooked sausage meat with a denim belt pulled tight. Now she can be forcably slim by the record company! Record some more fabulous pop music! And do videos where she's an air stewardess and plays her boobs like an accordion!

And proof that love's course never run's smooth. And I should know; you see that post below this one? The one about the boy who wasn't going to leave his fella? Thank you all, by the way, for the support and vitriol; he saw all that. Bless him. And then went off and dumped his boyfriend.

Salutations and elation!

So what have we learned, ladies and gentlemen? Never do a constructive argument. Never think about these things rationally. Do what Britney and I do: throw a hissy fit and send a text message. Works every time!

12 comments:

Qenny said...

Woohoo! Result!

Oh, and K-Fed to Fed-Ex had me howling with laughter.

I didn't know about your video naughty. Was it in the days when the UK wasn't allowed to make gay porn, so it was all soft members and guys interposing their leg between the camera and their naughty bits whilst pretending to wank?

Spinsterella said...

...we wouldn't mind checking him for leaks...

*splutters*

savante said...

K-Fed. Fed-ex... Bwahahahaha...

Snooze said...

The boy saw the light!!!! It shows he at least has great taste. Excellent news Lee.

Dazskins said...

A happy ending? Fuck me - you don't get many of those to a gay love story... we've been waiting all week to see if you're ok - how very excellent that the boy proved us wrong. Fabulous.

Now, back to this porn film... any clues on a title at all? Many of us are fans of more than your delicate way with an accusative pronoun...

Anonymous said...

Damn. I knew I was right about the hissy fits and texts.

I wondered why I always had a hankering for BBQ when I saw pics of Britters.

Vesper said...

very funny! love the fed-ex part!

Spike said...

What Spinsterella and Snooze said.

Also, glad to see the boy saw sense.

Anonymous said...

I?ve put that DVD at the top of my Christmas shopping list. Why, just the other day, grandmother was complaining that there?s nothing on telly that she hasn?t seen before and whining that I only ever give her those little bottles of arsenic. I?ll watch it myself of course, just to make sure that there?s nothing inappropriate, like Velcro wall coverings (oh, also she gets upset if there?s anything that involves budgies or cats? or maybe she said buggery and Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals? I can?t quite remember)

So, what?s the title of your little home-entertainment sample? While I can?t say that it?s been a wasted day, searching on Amazon for ?choking hazard?, I?ve not managed to locate your glittered member? (and no cheap excuses about it being so big that it won?t fit on the page, if you please) Go on, be a dear and let us all have it (and you can take that any way you like)

As for all the rest, aren?t you?ahem? still officially on the rebound from He Who Shall Not Be Named? I mention this only out of concern, of course? oh, alright, I confess that I?ve been running up and down my padded cell, shrieking with jealousy. It was inevitable, of course; all interesting single gay men are lost to the dark soon-to-be-not-so-sticky knot of a stable relationship, believing that they?ve found someone to share the twilight years? but we, your loyal followers, didn?t expect that you of all Halflings would succumb to that sweet delusion quite so soon. We so prefer you bitter, twisted and single for a change? as opposed to just bitter and twisted?. but you must do what is best for you, never mind all of us? selfish fiend.

In the circumstances, the very least you should do is give the new man?s jilted ex access to the blog, so that his vitriolic outpourings find an appreciative audience. Let us mock and snicker! (Even better, give us his email address: I?m sure we?ll find something to rub in his wounds; oh dear, they?re all out of soothing balm at Boots again, but never mind, I?ve got some kitchen salt!)

Inexplicable DeVice said...

Egyptian cotton sheets. Egyptian cotton sheets!

Ooh! This is hard work trying not to picture the 'riding'. Not to mention the sausage meat...

Egyptian cotton sheets! Egyptian cotton sheets!

Oh, and a Pret A Manger Crayfish & Rocket sandwich too...


P.S. Bravo to the less complicated boy situation!

Spike said...

Hear hear!

Anonymous said...

Ha, haven't we all been recorded 'accidentally' at one point or another? How else could I afford that Bottega Veneta man bag?