Well hellair darlings. Late start here I’m afraid, ‘was doing something secret but oh so fun – which I shall tell you all about next week.
But I’m here forever now so let’s get crack-a-lacking and get this party started right and so on.
Have you ever got your tampon wedged in a place that your own fingers won’t reach?
I haven’t but I’ve heard of it happening and when Lady Gaga was doing a video shoot with Terry Richardson, the second he was in need of one of his refreshing lil-let (the best a man can get) brews he had her bend over and allow his two photography ass-istants to pull it out.
Rather stomach-churningly, after we then see her stand and wriggle around as if she needs a particularly large poo, the word “CAKE” dominates the screen.
Better out than in eh, Gaga? She then stares at the camera looking gormless and drugged out of her tiny mind.
I’m sure this is supposed to be some incredibly arty promo for her new album Popart – probably an ironic commentary on the cheapness of fame or some sh-te.
But does anyone care what Gaga has to say anymore?
As many of her former friends back in New York say, anyone who kissed her arse on her way up has helped create this monster. Not mother monster. Just monster.
As I watched this promo, which was filmed by Terry Richardson, I can’t help but hear him laughing to himself as she gyrates in front of the camera looking about as sexy as one of Jim Henderson’s puppets on a bad acid trip.
I bet when she calls him up and goes: “Terrr-wwy. Want to come work wiv me?” he rubs his hands with glee at the amount of money he can charge her for basically selling pieces of old rope.
He then sits around with the fit models he usually works with and in between doing unspeakable things to them thinks up new ways in which he can humiliate the rich kid from New York and tell her if she does what he says it’s art.