Here we go again. We’re onto the Z list stars now. Enter the star of the imaginatively titled MTV show Wannabe, Chanelle (aka Posh Spice wannabe) partying hard, sleeping during the day in bed in my old childhood home. Some guy comes in, looks in one of her shoe boxes for drugs secreted there ’cause he wants to share. What a load of old tripe. This celebrity dream obsession is really beginning to piss me off. Now I’ve even got the chicken giblets of the celeb world wandering through my unconcious world. Perhaps it has something to do with my boyfriend bringing home a stray Heat magazine last week to corrupt me. I’ve noticed that there are notices posted all over public transport nowadays instructing passengers to take their newspapers with them when they get off. The same rules should apply to celebrty mags. I had never actually seen Heat prior to that point. In many ways it was significantly thicker than I had imagined, with 50 some pages devoted to stars. With very little text it would be more at home in the picture book section of a children’s library.
And while we’re on the subject of children… Do not however, under any circumstances, try taking this into a library.
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