Victoria Beckham, also on occasion moonlights as Smiles the clown
She's Beckham-ing a real pain in the arse
Wed, 10/11/2010 - 12:02 by John HillMisleading headlines are the worst, aren't they? Imagine if someone had intimated a particular grumpy, skinny, pouty celebrity was looking to join an exceptionally popular sci-fi (Yeah that's right, sci-fi, not science fiction or sf. Shut up internet) franchise just because she was wearing a banana-skin inspired dress. What kind of low-life scumbag would do that? Breaking the hearts of mouth-breathers* everywhere just for a few extra hits? Shameful.
Anyway, here's Victoria Beckham in all her glory; skinny, pouty and full of the joys of life. Look! She's dressed up as Lieutenant Uhura from Kill Bill (really pushing my luck here). What a joker she is.
It seems like only yesterday she was calling Lady Gaga a parody of herself (in fact it was the day before) without a single tracy of irony:
'I have a lot of respect that she can walk in those shoes going through airports. I mean, goodness, people think I dress up to go to an airport! I think she's really doing her thing. That's her. If I'm being completely honest, is it fair to say she may have become a little bit of a parody of herself? Is that fair to say?'
Maybe she just wanted to zig-a-zig-ah? Did you even consider that for a second Victoria Beckham-Troutsworth? Continuing on her current theme of vague self-awareness, the Princess of David's Trousers explained how important and wonderful her work was:
'I just wanted a creative outlet, it started as my hobby but I am very passionate about it... I'd like to still be around in 20 years' time.
Maybe she will, although designing clothes for space travel is cheating a little bit. When asked exactly what David did in their partnership, she really hit the nail on the head:
He looks good. I'm the funny one.
Good one Vicks. Huzzah for you.
* Sometimes you have to breathe out of your mouth, it's just more efficient. Plus you might have a cold. In no way are we suggesting they're mouth-breathers because their nose hasn't been blown for them by their ever-loving and long suffering mother.
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Comments
How funny (laughs)
But this is what happens when your husband plays away (for a football team, I mean). Sooner or later it plays on your mind and before you know it, you look like a skull.
And isn't it odd that no-one apart from her OCD hubby fancies her? Even Anne Widdicombe has started getting the odd y-front in the mail.
Picture 5 = a death's head with a hairpiece stuck to it.
Jiggery, couldn't have put it better myself!
I've always felt that Victoooooryyyyaaaa was like from the girl who wins the village fete, you know, Miss Bracknell 1987, picture in the local rag sitting on a hay bale on the back of a tractor trailer, all burnt out bleached demi-perm with a quiff, bridesmaid's dress, pug nose and 59p orange lippy. Pretty in a got regularly fingered behind the bus stop by the local estate boys kinda way.
Her ambition was to be a receptionist and she was vile to everyone, except her deluded mother who believed she'd marry a bank manager.
It's like the plot of Muriel's Wedding gone wrong. It's Tania's Wedding (I'm a bride, I'm beautiful!). Noooooooo......!
And look at her now: a fashion icon and an ex pop tart.
What the hell went wrong?
Jesus, and people think Katie Nice/Jordan's a fake slaggy cunt.
Fuck me!
Zigahzigah.
Since when did she start to look like Ian Brown?
On the other hand, as she's 90% plastic, 10% botox, 100% toxic, she's probabaly got a half-life of about 2000 years.
Timeteam with 4000AD's equivalent of Tony Robinson will be there, live from Los Angeles (or Atlantis as it's then called following the San Andreas fault doing its thing in 2056) exhuming cadavers, when suddenly up pops our Vic, looking EXACTLY the same as she does now, demanding a skinny late and her palm-pilot.
"I'd like to still be around in 20 years' time." She's doing well but I think the life-span of an anorexic is shorter than that of a 60 a day smoker. Sadly though even if she does overcome her eating disorder(s), once the osteoporosis kicks in (there will be no avoiding that by now), it's unlikely she will be able to get to even play the 'old one'/Twiggy part in the M&S adverts with a stoop and even a bespoke walking frame.
"I'd like to still be around in 20 years' time." She's doing well but I think the life-span of an anorexic is shorter than that of a 60 a day smoker. Sadly though even if she does overcome her eating disorder(s), once the osteoporosis kicks in (there will be no avoiding that by now), it's unlikely she will be able to get to even play the 'old one'/Twiggy part in the M&S adverts with a stoop and even a bespoke walking frame.
On the other hand, as she's 90% plastic, 10% botox, 100% toxic, she's probabaly got a half-life of about 2000 years.
Timeteam with 4000AD's equivalent of Tony Robinson will be there, live from Los Angeles (or Atlantis as it's then called following the San Andreas fault doing its thing in 2056) exhuming cadavers, when suddenly up pops our Vic, looking EXACTLY the same as she does now, demanding a skinny late and her palm-pilot.
Since when did she start to look like Ian Brown?
Jiggery, couldn't have put it better myself!
I've always felt that Victoooooryyyyaaaa was like from the girl who wins the village fete, you know, Miss Bracknell 1987, picture in the local rag sitting on a hay bale on the back of a tractor trailer, all burnt out bleached demi-perm with a quiff, bridesmaid's dress, pug nose and 59p orange lippy. Pretty in a got regularly fingered behind the bus stop by the local estate boys kinda way.
Her ambition was to be a receptionist and she was vile to everyone, except her deluded mother who believed she'd marry a bank manager.
It's like the plot of Muriel's Wedding gone wrong. It's Tania's Wedding (I'm a bride, I'm beautiful!). Noooooooo......!
And look at her now: a fashion icon and an ex pop tart.
What the hell went wrong?
Jesus, and people think Katie Nice/Jordan's a fake slaggy cunt.
Fuck me!
Zigahzigah.
Picture 5 = a death's head with a hairpiece stuck to it.
How funny (laughs)
But this is what happens when your husband plays away (for a football team, I mean). Sooner or later it plays on your mind and before you know it, you look like a skull.
And isn't it odd that no-one apart from her OCD hubby fancies her? Even Anne Widdicombe has started getting the odd y-front in the mail.