After giving Peter Andre some kind of sign that their relationship had gone down the proverbial toilet, Jordan starting auctioning her anatomy off to the lowest bidder.
The mythical powers of the anagram reveal that its in her name --- Tackier Pie. It is clear that she can't help but spread 'em for all and sundry.
To the photographic evidence!
Jordan - Queen of Sluts
Lightly stroking her big V.
Looking to burrow further down the rabbit warren
Donning a tablecloth. Don't be fooled, it's probably edible material.
Tactically placed strips of material.
Look girls - I can fit two in at once. It's my most awesome party trick.
In the best ever movie scene to grace small, large, sun/shower/fly screens, Robert DeNiro says to Al Pacino in Heat: "Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner."
A+.
Tell me can you feel it? Tell me can you feel it? Tell me can you feeeeeeel it? The heat is on. (Cue 80s Saxophone)
And while I am not really finding myself in a position where the “heat” is on, I do find myself in a position where I cannot blog for at least a week and a half - I am going on holiday AND I have the flu. Potentially porcine strand.
H1N1and me
I find this all a bit shit. But I guess that's the way it crumbles, cookie-wise.
Because if your undies don't have any stains, you didn't try hard enough
In AFL, these three things tend to mean running one way with your head craned back facing the other way. You should have eyes only for the ball. However, then you end up looking a bit worse for wear... like Juddy.
Ladies, gents and miscellaneous-things-that-are-subject-to-self-sustaining-biological-processes --- it's time once again to pay homage to the bevy of beauties that grace the WTA Tour.
I'm not sure if you are a taking a serious tone here.
No tone at all, you smouldering vixen. But your exceptionally gorgeous self aside, one cannot ignore a salient fact: tennis talent rarely goes hand in hand with visual appeal.
There are, of course, two highly notable exceptions. Ana Ivanovic and Maria Sharapova - both Amazonian beauties. These two saucy ladies show that being born in the Eastern Bloc doesn't mean you have to physically resemble a B-double.
Fancy a dip in my deep end?
Put your hand on my heart and tell me... in fact, quiet please.
In decades gone by, the beauty tap was flowing a bit more freely on the la femme de tennis tour.
In the 80s - Sabatini had the bod while Graf had the legs.
In the 90s - Kournikova had it all. And even Hingis had her fans (WSO included!!!). However, Hingis did deteriorate in the end as her penchant for hitting the white lines off-court and well as on led her to an early graveretirement.
And now. We are starved.
However, despite being surrounded in ugly minga-ness, there is light at the end of the ocular tunnel.
Bethanie Mattek-Sands for a start. What a name, what a wardrobe.
As much as she places downward pressure on the stringent sartorial standards of tennis, she plays seriously, with the precision of a surgeon performing a triple bypass, like the lives of orphans in Darfur are hanging in the balance.
But so far... no luck. She hasn't hit a decent winner since 2003. To win points, she tends to rely on her opponent making errors, which should be better recorded as forced rather than 'un' given that her outlandish outfits tend to incite shock that are surely strongly felt by the person on the other side of the net.
As shown in her six happy snaps, she is nurturing a front bum biscuit. It's not her fault. She has to skip training to shop at gypsy markets and fly to LA to exchange clothes with Heidi Fleiss.
In 2005, B.M.S. copped a fine from the US Open - the most liberal of all the slams - that determined her argyle cowboy hat was not appropriate at a tennis tournament.
Hard to see it befitting in any shade of reality, really?
However, she still chose to don the ol' fedora when playing her next game on carpet.
Speaking of carpet, she does tend to double up with our favourite brick factory -ova - Nadia Petrova:
Is it time to unveil my flushing meadow yet?
No. Not yet. It's not until the end of August m'dear.
But I must say, don't knock it till you've tried it. Carpet licking that is. As they say, bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on a Saturday night.
Where were we?
Tennis. Fashion. Fail.
Serena Williams is another one that comes to mind.
Bitch please. I own fashion.
I guess Serena has cleaned up her act from her trailer trash beginnings:
To become a bit more style conscious and turning to her sister-girlfriend, Diana Ross, for inspiration:
This trophy will keep me warm at night.
And this my friends, brings me to today's conclusion and rhetorical question: What's not to adore about the WTA tour?
Joel Fitzgibbon. A jovial, affable kind of guy. A good bloke. But a savvy politician? Well, the proof (or lack thereof) is in the HoR members' interest register pudding.
Proof you say? A bottle of 40% overproof please.
Even before the 2 x free stuff for kidsmembers scandal, Joel had the world's worst poker face. Lady GaGa would turn in her grave if she was dead.
When Ruddski lands the proverbial punch during Question Time, Fitzy - in full eyeshot over KRudd's right shoulder - smirks openly after a brief two seconds of holding in his chortle. On the other hand, if Turnbull twists the knife in tight, Joel practically curls up in the foetal position and starts to rock back and forth. Hence his nickname - as coined by the late and oh-I-miss-you-so-much-and-things-are-not-the-same-reading-the-Oz-without-The-Sketch, Matt Price - The Barometer:
Change is a-coming for the man in the seat of Hunter
He's certainly offered oodles of colour and movement of late - except, unfortunately for him, the colour is Chinese blood-red, the movement upside down and backwards through the NIB expense account.
Happy Birthday Helen - oh whooooooaaaaaaaa oh whooooooooooaaaaaa
And
Brotherly love gone too far.
A slap on the wrist for the first time. But for the second error? I don't think Rudd's 'not happy Joel' is going to cut it. It's only a matter of time before Julie Bishop or some other Liberal dope finds out about the 3rd, 4th or nth transgression.
I think it's time that The Barometer started packing his bag. I think if he walks out the door of his own volition he will save what's left of his pretty little poker face.
And it's a shame. He has come a long way (baby). He has wiped his hands kinda clean of being the evil bastard that helped put the boot to Kim 'no ticker' Beazley to let then BFF Mark 'ease the squeeze' Latham to take the Labor mantle in 2003. And he even managed to avoid the avalanche as Latham's house of cards came tumbling down in early 2005.
Richmond footy "star", recovering drug addict and international ambassador for fuckwits, Ben Cousins, was undoubtedly THE hottest topic on Sunday morning. He was on the television, in the papers and on the radio. And what journalistic gold has surfaced in relation to his latest exploits.
Here are some poignant extracts from the man himself where he notes his act was not a hortatory message for the youth of today nor was it a paroxysmal act of rage against the Weagles but more a funny haha for a man in a van:
"I wasn't angry. I wasn't frustrated. It wasn't a message to the world. In no way did I think the footage was going to air. If nothing else, I thought someone on the end of the camera in a van outside the ground might have got a chuckle out of it. Obviously others saw it differently.
He goes on to say that there are bigger issues in the world than his middle finger and that even Nanna has a penchant for flipping off when the situation warrants:
"There is a recession going on, people are under enormous pressure to pay off mortgages and, indeed, are losing jobs. If people are upset or concerned about what I did, then I wonder where we are headed as a society. To be honest, I was surprised it went to air. Maybe it was a little naive on my behalf considering my situation. But I expected the 'van man' to laugh and move on, not alert everyone at the channel. Within our family we all do it to each other as a joke gesture. I've even seen my grandmother do it.
Two observations: (1) Recession was appropriately used instead of GFC. Props for not confusing his readership that the Geelong Football Club's 'going on' was important to him in any way shape or form. (2) Wondering where we are headed as a society, hey? Yes I too wonder, particularly after learning of your septuagenarian grandmother's inclination to send out the occasional 'up yours'. Oh where, oh where will the seemingly nebulous, ever-shifting boundaries of bad taste lead us Grandma Cousins?
Around 18 months ago, Ben whipped up a similar frisson of astonishment and freneticism. Recall on 1 November 2007 Ben had reportedly gone AWOL in Malibu, never quite making it to the rehab centre where he was to recommence his treatment for his ongoing bothersome addictions to ice (ice baby) and to just generally being irresistibly attractive to both sexes.
When 'missing' his friend was quoted as saying:
"No one has any idea where he is... He's got everyone freaking out because LA's not a good place to be out doing what he may be doing..."
Two observations: (1) "what he may be doing" was a fascinating yet incongruous use of hypothesis given Ben's recent history. (2) IS THERE A BETTER PLACE TO BE DOING IT? Ben simply seized an opportunity in the most exciting adult playground on Earth, as you bloody well would, wouldn't you? Good on him. And they say it never snows in Hollywood! (boom boom chhhh... not to be confused with chk chk boom - although Clare and Ben would make a fine couple, wouldn't they?)
Congratulations to me, myself and aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!
I have trekked the long hard road out of hell. Although the end was a bit of a fizzer. You know, it's like I've been pregnant (got a bit fatter, became a walking ache factory and I certainly didn't drink much during) and then out comes... not a baby, not an alien but a gigantic puff of air --- that's right, nothing, nada, zip, zero.
But I'm a grinner. I'm a winner. Once the fiscal freeze is lifted, I shall become an utter sybarite. Drinking the juices of the Earth at every opportunity.
And this little kid in the red hat is also a winner. More exciting stuff to come in the next few days. WATCH THIS SPACE.
Jordan - Queen of Sluts
Lightly stroking her big V.
Looking to burrow further down the rabbit warren
Donning a tablecloth. Don't be fooled, it's probably edible material.
Tactically placed strips of material.
Look girls - I can fit two in at once. It's my most awesome party trick.
