When our mother dearest got her decree absolute she had a little cry, drank a cup of tea and ate half a packet of HobNobs. This is, of course, because mummy MeMeMe doesn’t go by the name Peter Andre off-of ‘we’re getting officially bored to wet tears of you now’ fame. Peter, or ‘Pete’ as he oft goes by, was seen running, jumping, throwing arms in the air, waving divorce papers around, singing a Harvey-medley, choking back tears and squealing ‘At last I’m free to love again’ all in the privacy of his own TV show.
Vulgar, much? Vile, much? Other V-words, much? Yes, now please somebody tell us this means he now has to go back to Australialand, and while he’s on his way to the airport, tell us he’s picked up John Torode and Kylie. No? One can but dream. Now pass the vodka. We need something to wash down the little bit of sick we have stuck in the back of our throat.
Oh, until that Christmas reunion, naturally.