Go away

Go away Simone Warne.

Yes, I know you stiff upperlipped your way through the hideous freakshow that was your very public marriage breakdown to that cheating scumbag and I admire you for sticking by him the first time because you didn’t want your children to suffer (although I would have left his wandering ass, because you get ONE chance. One. And by one, I don’t mean you get to cheat on me and then you get another chance after that because that, my friend, would be your SECOND chance and . . . no no no no and no.)
I commend your willingness to try and make it work, at the same time that I don’t think anyone should stay in a shitty situation ‘just because of the kids’. Believe me, the kids hate the shitty situation as much as you do (although most kids parents marriage breakdowns aren’t splashed across the New Idea sitting on their best friends coffee table for all to see before her mum hurriedly whisks it away muttering about stupid rubbish magazines and she doesn’t know why she buys them and you shouldn’t pay any attention to them anyway and how about you kids watch that M rated movie she never lets you watch but will now because she’s desperate to distract you from the picture of your dad texting some British tramp who appeared in Hello magazine in a French maid costume designed to make her look ‘saucy’.)
Regardless of your 'bravery in the face of tragedy and national ridicule', I am OVER seeing you on any show that has the word ‘Celebrity’ in the title, because other than Nicole Kidman, when did the rule get passed that your husband cheating on you makes you more famous than you deserve? And even if you hogging the space inside trashy weekly mags does mean less stories on the latest chapter of Paris Hilton Did Another Dumb Thing, I am still heartily sick of you.

Buh-bye.

Oh, and go away Paris Hilton.

(Seriously. Read the above linked Paris Hilton story, is it still April Fools? It . . . can't be for real, right?)