Many moons ago, when I still held onto the thought that people actually read this, I wrote about the pending divorce of him from The Ordinary Boys and her off Big Brother. You know, the blonde one who reckoned she was like Paris Hilton. Got her cans out in a swimming pool. Yeah, that’s her.
Anyway, that blog was notable for 2 reasons; I was poking well-thought out fun at another celebrity-driven defamation of the sanctity of marriage, but more importantly because I used the c-word uncensored for the first time online. I felt that strongly about it at the time, as I surmised that it was nothing more than a cheap publicity stunt to keep them in the public eye, and they would be back together quicker than you could say “centre-spread”.
Alas, I were wrong.
I recall my younger, swearier self here because this week, the nation’s favourite celebrity chavs, Andre and Price, have decided time’s time and are to divorce after 4-and-a-half years or wedded bliss.
Perhaps blunted by the sheer volume of stories of this ilk you read these days, I find myself more amused than angry. I think a lot of that has to do with the simple fact that they’re both massively cretinous and unlikely to be taken seriously apart from by those orange lasses who wear pink tracksuits and furry boots. The right-thinking of this nation ceased to give a shite – shiny or otherwise – about these two ages ago.
Now, I don’t begrudge them a minute of their fame or a penny of their fortune. It is widely noted that Price is a businesswoman of some repute; cashing in on the ‘Jordan’ persona to feather her nest. The way she’s brought up her lad is an inspiration to parents in the same situation as well. And let’s face it, not many red-blooded males would have passed up the chance for half an hour in her pre-silicone company, surely? Either way, she’s a bit of a dick, but she’s harmless and if people want to read about her, why shouldn’t she make as much brass out of it as she can? I know I would. Compare and contrast to Captain CarCrash herself, Jodie Marsh. Same sort of idea to Jordan, but now looks like Pete Burns and has the bedroom morals of a French whore. Well played there.
Andre on the other hand is a different kettle of shrimp. Reasonably popular in his pomp, he used “I’m a celebrity” the same way the other Timmy Malletts of this world do; to get their mug on telly when people think they’re dead. The only difference here was that he bagged himself a glamour model at the same time, and if memory serves me correctly, he re-released “Mysterious Girl” into the bargain. A good era for Great Britain, I’m sure you’ll agree.
I never doubted for a minute that it wouldn’t go tits-skywards from the word go. Given the way they lived their lives through the pages of ‘glossy’ magazines, it’s clear their agenda is far from being man and wife. The genuine tragedy is the poor kids stuck in this. They’ve had 2 together I believe who don’t need this, and poor Harvey’s got enough on his plate without being the victim of a broken home.
As you would expect, they’ve managed to overshadow this entire sorry charade with a beautiful piece of comedy. Having spent their entire married life in the public eye, with more programmes about them that there is about property, one of the first lines of their divorce statement read thus:
“We would appreciate it if the press left us alone during this difficult time”
For once, words fail me.
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