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Reality Check

by | 4th, February 2004

‘IT is one of those oddities that the queen of reality television should be anything but real.

‘Don’t ask me, ask my Jordans’

For if there is one thing we can say with any degree of certainty about Katie Price, it’s that her gigantic Jordans are not of God’s making.

After this, things get a little murkier and truth merges with falsehood. For instance, how convinced are we that she really did have an affair with David Beckham?

Not that she actually has said she did, as the Sun merely reports that Katie simply shook her Jordans up and down in a manner that suggested the affirmative when asked by her camp colleagues if she had bedded the footballer.

‘That’s going to be front-page news every day for weeks,’ screamed Kerry McPadding.

‘He’s not going to be known as Goldenballs any more,’ chipped in Neil Ruddock. ‘I see him as Rustyballs.’

If Ruddock’s right, Katie and her Jordans would do well to get a tetanus jab and see a doctor about life Down Under in what the Sun terms her ‘Jordangate’.

But while we ponder whether or not the model did or did not dally with England’s most famous son, the woman herself has moved on.

And as if we needed reminding that the only way after bedding a Beckham is down, Katie reveals that she has the hots for Peter Andre.

The Star heard her tell the wombats and snakes that sit (literally) glued to her every move in the Australian jungle how she and Peter have come within ‘a millimetre’ of having sex with each other.

Not that size is all that matters in this story – well, not unless you are Katie’s Jordans or poor Peter’s Acorn – since Jordan’s brother Danny Price is upset by what he’s seen so far.

He says that his sister is playing Peter for a fool and that the one Australian singer never to have appeared in Neighbours is behaving like a leech.

Which pretty much guarantees that Jordan will be popping little Pete in her mouth, chewing him up and either swallowing him whole or spitting him out.

After all, after being on the receiving end of cockroaches, worms and a football’s rusty balls, what’s one titchy leech?’



Posted: 4th, February 2004 | In: Tabloids Comment | TrackBack | Permalink