The Hidden Diary of Catherine Zeta-Jones
Saggy Balls is at me again, so soon after I have whelped yet another dimpled chin pup for the old wanker. If I have to see those quivery, crooked damp lips of his up close once more I shall have to wretch.
The saga continues with the fecking shagfest the media is doing on Saggy and me.
Only in Ameriker would a pic of me smoking a cigarette and downing a pint while holding the baby garner such bleedin' bloody hatred for moi.
It's jealousy. I am the world's favourite and they hate it.
We got one over on those wankers at Hello! magazine for having the nerve to print unflattering photos of me at my wedding. I am proud to have successfully hidden my broad arse from prying eyes thus far and those bastards had to pay.
Saggy Balls and I spent the money on soundproofing the children's wing. The nannies can deal with the incessant wailing of the Douglas dingoes, I've done my part.
Saggy Balls tells me the in-laws are coming over again. How I loathe the thought of Kirk eyeing my breasts again and pretending his cold stare is stroke related. I swear if I see one more dimpled chin male coming at me, I'll sue them for harassment and I'll win.
Must dash now, I'm due for a foot massage and my liposuction doc is coming 'round this afternoon.
It's so hard being fabulous moi.