A Step Too Far

The Wagatha Christie libel case of interest perhaps, Colleen Rooney v Rebekah Vardy, flashback into highlight mode, the court proceedings prevailed to the delights of May (the month) may we do, may we lie my Lord, that’s what we want, the publicity. It may be July but we did get a breather from the nonsense, the general vibe being “You stole my story” with one’s defamation claim, over to you Johnny Depp, not to be herded out Johnny boy, back to Colleen who claimed a sting operation, oh that hurt, every breath you take, every move you make, every vow you break, every smile you fake, every claim you stake, every bond you break, every foot step you stumble. The distorted moral compass.

Over to those Amber lights “I hit myself with the phone to cause bruising”, but Johnny did it? Ring ring, it’s Roy Hodgson, I’ve had enough, I am retiring, oh not again. Roy during one’s England tenure was reportedly annoyed (at Euro 2016) with the Wag United (wives and girlfriends) disrupting team England led by the number nine Rebeka Vardy, the disruptive debauched wags with parties, photo shoots, the look at me syndrome, fake hair, boobs, Simon Cowell fish lips, fake nails, hair extensions, suntanned to the hilt, under those sun lamps, talentless bimbos, in part to the players, adopt a brain cell and get shut, perhaps Roy was looking for an excuse with team England having been dumped out of Euro 2016 by the minnows, Iceland, any fish in the bin. The go to man might have been another former England manager, Sven Goran Erikson who did welcome the razzamatazz, reference to Mrs Vardy, the crows feet Vardy, if Sven Goran was in town then the Swede would have spotted the stomping of the crow, I’m off as Sven dons his supped up platformed stilettos, follow the exit signs, perhaps the Mrs Vards has two sprouts and a chipolata ask Peter Andre. Oh sorry, Jamie of course, secrecy on that one. According to Wayne Rooney, he was the go to man with Roy Hodgson asking Wayne to have a word with Jamie Vardy to dampen his wife down, then it became a case of the ‘porkly’ Wazza v the ‘scrawny’ Vardy. The Roon under the oath my Lord gave confirmation of the Roy request, Jamie Vardy denied that any conversation took place, the Vardy response took place outside of the court, not under oath my Lord is the indicator of the porky pie teller. During the Euro 2016 tournament the Rebekah and Jamie variety show were dubbed the new Posh and Becks, which one’s the oil painting?

The Instagram accounts loaded to millions of followers for some July gossip, that’s the problem, society’s ills, slurp on the drinks, cocktails in hand, chipolata? Down at the waga, waga, of one’s abode ground Australia, if a cricket ball was bounced they would be bowled out of court my Lord. Next door at the wagga wagga women’s shed, is a shed load of amber droppings. The other sinful one Mrs Vardy was apparently leaking stories on Leicester City, what Mrs Vardy forgot to mention was that Jamie was attending training dressed as ‘Spiderman’ fiction? Of course not, spin that web of intrigue. One story that did leak out was the Danny Drinkwater crashing his car intoxicated, high on water, a cheap shot, why not, it’s all surreal, as for Johnny go, go and Colleen did they claim those winning votes?