The Hidden Diary of Catherine Zeta-Jones

Oh, buggar!
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.
Oh, rot.
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.