‘I just need to brush my hair away from my face in front of a bank of paps, a move that naturally brings my left hand to my face in such a way that everyone gets a picture of me smiling and not wearing my wedding ring…’

Well done you! Twat!

It’s a tough world out there if you are married to a Girls Aloud. You make seven or eight mistakes with cheap supermarket scrubbers and all of a sudden the Girls Aloud in question wants a divorce after probably clumping you one and calling you a jigaboo (we’ll never forget that, National Treasure Cheryl).

Well, frankly, we’d still rather get bummed by Ashley. And we’d rather have his hair. And we’d rather have his money. And, if we were him, we’d be glad we’d got shot of ‘nails down a blackboard’ Chez and her stupid extensions.

He liked it, he put a ring on it. And then he went and shagged someone more fun. Them straights, honestly! And they’re still allowed to adopt children!

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2 comments to “‘I just need to brush my hair away from my face in front of a bank of paps, a move that naturally brings my left hand to my face in such a way that everyone gets a picture of me smiling and not wearing my wedding ring…’”

  1. Girls Aloud. Really, the lot of them need to shut the fuck up.

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  2. Sham marriages with in-the-closet footballers are so Two Thousand and Late.

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