Fag Hag Diary


And Faggy comes out in support of Britney. Gulp.

Er, drink! 

Is the Fag Hag the only one to think all these mofos are being way harsh on poor lil old Britney Jean Spears? 

I mean, okay, so her gut was looking a little Geordie girl knocking back the Breezers on a hen night. And the extensions did look a bit like they were attached to Donald Turmp’s toupee. And yes, alright, the moves were very Glaswegian stripper on Methadone. But give the girl a goddam break (as opposed to any more pie) – we LIKE our pop stars to be outta control, whacked out on scoobies and all over the place like a madwoman’s shit. If we wanted to watch gym-attending teetotallers we’d dress our accountants up in Nylon sparkly bras and shove them out on stage (actually considering mine’s an overweight Indian in his fifties, let’s make an exception in my case).

Forget word perfect, over rehearsed and in control – I like my famouses like my men – fucked up beyond all recognition.

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2 comments to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. Brilliant!

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  2. Fi Real.

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