Oh how we love an estranged wife of a Beatle doing anything involving a glittery frock, an audience of billions, and a twirl.
And oh how we find it retarded that the ex wife of a Beatle can be so detested just ’cause a. A person might like nice things and b. A Beatle is automatically inculpable.
Anyways, so what if she slept with people for handbags – footballers’ wives aka LIPs (Live In Prostitutes) have been getting away with it since, ooh at least Roman times.
As a dear friend once said (Fag Hag, btw), ‘Don’t marry ’em, fuck ’em!’.
And Heather does love the animals.
And she did sayeth the following – with ‘mo slant – about business involving Dancing With t’Stars in America-ca-ca:
‘I asked for a gay guy… I said, “I haven’t had a date in 10 months and yet I’ve been associated with all these different people, which is rubbish.” Jonathan (he be the bonnie looking fella in that picture up top) turned up and I said, “Well, he doesn’t look gay.” And I said, “Are you gay?” And he said, “No, I’m not, I’m married…’ He’s just a great person.’
And that’s a true story.
ps. And oooh, a whole story on HM-M without a single mention of… oh no, it’s gone.