Ok I am updating. Where I am currently, computers have not been discovered. I have nicked the laptop belonging to the man sitting beside me - ie Pete - so I can get on the internet.
Just a quick whine about telemarketers. I don't know how exactly they get my number, as it's unlisted. Perhaps they try every single number combination they can think of. Sort of like, 'You, take the 9567s, and you, take the 9568s' etc. A friend once said that they put the telemarketer on handsfree and walked away, so at some point the TM will realise that there's no one there, and be like, oh, um, sorry, and hang up. It made me laugh.
Anyway, one of them rang me up yesterday, trying to sell god knows what. Viagra for babies or houseplants or something. And they ask me whether I am the owner of the house. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but they always ask it. I guess if I am the owner of the house I can give them permission to bulldoze the wall of my bedroom and replace it with a pile of horse poo mixed with newspaper. Well, yeah. I've had enough of these people, so when they ask whether I am the owner, I pinch my nose to make my voice high and nasal, and say, 'No, I am the owner's fourteen year old crackhead ho-bag. Do you want a good spanking? I'm also really good with anal. I can take a twelve inch up the arse without lubricant. Hey - are you still there? Hello?'
Something tells me he may not call again. I hope he does. I mean, I've got lots more to say.
When girls say they want to be just like me, what exactly do they mean? Do they want to be happily married to a man they love, with two wonderful sons like me? Do they want to have two books published like me? Financially independent like me? I think not. No, what they mean is they want to be famous like me. They want the magazine spreads, the photoshoots, the cameras, the lights. Just like me.
I don't know. It feels strange that anyone can get famous. I because famous as a model, for my looks and my breasts, not because of any talent. I know that, I would never deny that. But people who became famous even though they don't do anything - footballer's wives, for example. In this respect I have to give kudos to Victoria Beckham and the like, because she was famous (in the Spice Girls) before she married her husband. But people like Rebecca Loos, and that chick who fucked Jude Law behind Sienna Miller's back - they became famous for screwing someone (over). I mean, at least I did something in front of the camera.
People want to be you without knowing you. Weird.
And because this post has been so serious, I need to lighten up. Tomorrow is Tuesday, and the date will be 6.6.06. Oh big freakin' deal. There's still a 0 in there. But apparently the Antichrist will be born tomorrow. I think I may mark tomorrow with a ritual sacrifice of 666 kittens, three pairs of my worn knickers (one for the devil, Antichrist and someone else) and I'll do a naked dance around a crucifix while drinking tabasco sauce to invoke the devil. You can all turn up and watch if you want.
I came, I saw, I conquered... eventually. Yes, indeed, I am now the possessor of something that has been as highly saught as the Holy Grail. That's right, I now have a screen name. Uh-huh, a screen name, which proves I am not an utter retard (although the length of time it took for me to get one might suggest otherwise.) Now all I have to do is learn the whole screen name etiquette. Do you just add all your friends? Do you give it out to everyone? What am I supposed to do with this thing? I am a self-confessed IM virgin - although there are other things I am still a virgin of. For example, I am still a cover-more-than-15%-of-my-breasts virgin, a triple anal penetration virgin, a Tesco-value virgin, and - you get the idea.
Speaking of virgins, there has recently been an item in the news about the age that kids are losing their virginity. (This is only in UK, by the way.) Apparently the average age that they lose their virginity has moved down from nineteen to closer to fifteen. Now this is veering dangerously close to a word that begins with D, ends in G with a middle of ISGUSTIN. You know, that sounds like the Roman emperor who played the lyre while Rome burned... oh wait. Pete says that was Emperor Nero. Not quite then.
However, the article also mentioned something about the fact that, although teenagers are losing their virginities earlier, they aren't necessarily being more promiscuous. Which is good, right? No one likes a slut. I am not one, despite my appearance. I can count all the lovers I've had on my hands. Unlike a certain girl who I shall not mention by name, because I am classy, and definitely much classier than that Tango whore. Yeah I'm talking about you Jodie Marsh. If you want some Fanta go to her, she's dripping in it. Got enough for Terry's Chocolate Orange too (Pete: I believe that's brown. Me: Shut up.) I swear that girl has more orange peel on the back of her left thigh than a discard pile in a Tropicana factory.
Anyway, enough sniping. Angelina Jolie has given birth to a little girl. You know I find it funny when headlines say 'Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have given birth' as if Brad Pitt was straining away pushing the baby out... yeah. They've called her Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt, which is unusual but kind of cute. I wonder if the 'nouvel' bit meant like, 'new pretty' (nouvel jolie, after all). Gwen Stefani has also given birth, to a little boy called Kingston James McGregor Rossdale. Hmm - that sounds kind of normal. Still, it's their children, they should be able to call them whatever they want. However, I heard there's some kind of law somehwhere that won't let you register your child if their name is silly, grammatically incorrect etc. Who judges that?
PS Only just noticed, I wrote a whole paragraph (whoa) on my screen name, and forgot to post what it actually is. Here it is - Knock Knock Katie Abuse it however you like, I'm no stranger to that ;) Ahem. Do add me, I need to learn how to actually use it.
I have Pussycat Dolls' "Don't cha" stuck in my head now. Earlier on it was something else. It was annoying because it was in my head all through my exam. What's that? Do I still go to school? Hell no - it was my prostate gland examination. Finger up the bum and everything. At least, the doctor said it was the prostate gland. Hmm - do women even have prostate glands? Perhaps I should have asked.
Look at OK! this week guys and gals - cause guess who's on the cover? No, not Chantelle and Preston, ugh, they are so last week. ME! And my two adorable sons. Oh and Pete, but he's only on the inside. Poor Pete - he doesn't get as much attention as me. I'm quite a handful, I should think - in all senses of the word. Anyway, in my interview, I talk about my two sons and how they get along (not very well - Harvey lays into Junior quite a lot, so we keep them seperate), the rumours about Pete and other women (NOT true - if I had any doubt about it he would have been out) and stuff I have coming up. Stuff such as my novel, and my lingerie range. Did you know, I used to think it was called 'ling-a-ree' - just like that? Wow I'm silly.
I heard that Elton John (Sir or something) has just successfully sued the Daily Mail for, like, $100,000 because they said he didn't want to talk to anyone. Did it really matter, one asks oneself? Hey I'm talking posh, I'm proving I did learn something in school. Anyway I hope he gives all that money to charity or something. Like what somebody did when they sued somebody else. I forget these things. But knowing him, he'll spend it on big floral arrangements (which die after, like, an hour) and expensive but ugly clothes. Then again, he often auctions it off for charity, so it gets there eventually. Via large pieces of PVC, perhaps.
Now I know this happened a long time ago, but still. I only just remembered it. There was that greasy bloke who was talking about Lindsay Lohan, saying rude things about the cleanliness of her privates, while Paris Hilton laughs it up behind him. Because she's really clean herself. Apparently she has herpes. Nice. Then again I wouldn't be surprised to find out she was the originator of the herpes virus. It's like a community down there. Wow *raise eyebrows*
Look, four paragraphs! I believe it is now time to stop, Harvey is demanding my attention. Till next time ;P
Well I read in the news (yes I can read) that Britney Spears nearly dropped her son when she tripped. His head lolled back or something and his hat fell off. Now why the hell was she carrying him like a stuffed teddy? And why was she holding a drink in her other hand? Sheesh - she's Britney Spears, she could get some lackey to hold everything else for her while she held her son and pretended to be the perfect mother. (27 words in a sentence - I believe that is a record)
My son Harvey is big. I mean really, really huge. Like, huge. Yeah. And I've never dropped him, or even come close. Considering how much smaller than Britney I am (she's got a bit big since she took up with that slag) I think that she should take more care of her kid. She's only got one, damnit - although the next is coming. Someone needs to teach K-Fed how to use a condom. I can see him now - waving this limp rubber thing around and asking, what do I do with this? Maybe I am being harsh. But only maybe.
Bought Heat magazine today. Need to keep up with current affairs and all that. And well, it reminded me of the time me and Pete were out on the town, and some girl flashes us! What, pray, was the point of that? Was she trying to com(P)ete with me? Listen up, girl with the ill-fitting bra - NO ONE competes with me in the chest department and wins. (Except that ugly chick in the Big Brother house: 30M or something, I wonder how she can stand up without falling over from the weight of her breasts.)
Ok I think that is all for today. Must do nails now. They do indeed take several days per nail, y'see. So if I get started now I might get it done by Christmas.
Well it seems that the police have uncovered a plot by some arseholes to kidnap one of my sons. One wonders, why do they not want to kidnap me? Then again it would be kind of hard for the kidnappers to maneuver my boobs into a truck. Plus I could take out their eyes with my nipples. But they could have kidnapped Pete - I wouldn't have minded that.
Anyway, the plot has been foiled. No harm done, except we have to have extra security on the house. On the upside, there has been a crowd of sexy policemen around the place. I could barely keep myself in my clothes. Oh wait..
My name is Katie Price, also known as Jordan. I'm a glamour model, and I've had several breast enlargements (currently 32FF). My personal life is always featured in the British tabloids, I knew they loved me. I am one of those celebrities who are 'famous for being famous' but I'm alright with that.
I was born in the seaside town of Brighton in Sussex. At one point I sent some photos of myself to a modelling agency, and my career took off from there. Soon I was doing Page 3 which is topless modelling. But I stopped doing that after my boob jobs, because they only want natural girls.
I have two sons, Harvey and Junior, by footballer Dwight Yorke and my husband Peter Andre respectively. I have written two autobiographies about myself because I am that interesting. I am down-to-earth and outspoken, which sometimes leads to other women being jealous of me and trying to pick fights with me. Victoria Beckham for example, or wannabe-me Jodie Marsh. Or that Paris Hilton wannabe, Chantelle something. But none of them will be me, because there's only one Jordan.