Saturday, 22 August 2009

Dear Pixie Lott (2)

Catching part of your set on Channel 4's V Festival coverage (late-night channel-surfing in search of some sleazy wank-fodder, you understand - please don't think I made any kind of date with that hideous display of corporate filth), I think I've finally cracked it.

What would your "mama do"? Travel back in time and get an abortion, if she's got anything about her.


PS - V Festival. A serious suggestion to any world leaders, tyrannical dictators or rogue terrorists who just happen to have stumbled upon this page. Drop the big one on Chelmsford and Staffordshire right now. Not only would you knock out half Britain's cunt population in one fell swoop, you could also eradicate every single worst act currently working in music. Seriously. It'd be like Year Zero for taste.

PPS - 'Pixie': that outfit. Have you just walked out of a bin? Or is this the latest installment of those Drink Awareness ads ("You wouldn't start the night looking like a drowned rat sporting a knock-off from the Battlestar Galactica winter collection...") 

PPPS - Who are you again...?

No comments: