Right now the Fag Hag is feeling vexed as hell by a particular type of person – they know who they are, and I know who they are – I speak ladies and gennelman of the breed known as Van Day arrivistes.
Now I’ve been sitting on this goddam riverbank for twenty years or so waiting for his booze bloated body to come floating by and I’ve had it up to here with these foetuses in coloured tights acting like they discovered him.
Where were you when Dave was singing “Mirror Mirror” in a white tuxedo jacket and regional salon highlights? Where were you, when Therese Bazaar was miming her way through “Give me Back My Heart” all trussed up in taffeta ruffles like a Jewish aunt at a Hendon bar mitzvah? Where were you for “Oh L’amour” and its Casio harmonies?
And now that he’s back in I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here looking all hot and fuckable with that discreet surgery, gorgeous hair and killer body you all want some. The Day is mine – so back right off bitches.