My Wednesday addiction to Closer magazine is not a secret anymore, because I've just told you lot about it. I've managed to curb the Heat and Now! cravings nicely, but Closer lingers on in my affections, mostly because of the puzzles in the back. Yep, say hello to the sad aul'wan.
Despite not being remotely interested in what Kerry Katona and a bunch of chavs got up to in the past week, they occasionally have these gems of stories about total loo-las, like Everard Cunion. An obviously well socialised individual who isn't at all weird, he lives with a gaggle of rubber dolls he does rude things to, occasionally breaking their backs and necks when things get too energetic. Eeuuw.
Sandwiched in between the 'I use my benefits to buy booze', 'I have sex with my car', and 'we're too fat to work' stories recently was a tale of a woman who splashed £70,000stg to look like a second-rate Barbie. Yep, Sarah Louise Humphries laid down all that cash to look like SINDY, arguably the booby prize of the doll world. "I loved her big boobs, long legs and blonde hair and dreamed of looking like her," sighed Sarah Louise in the article, which - cry - is not online.
I dunno love, I reckon a bit of laser eye surgery might have been a more appropriate way to spend your cash, cos you clearly need it.
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Whatever next? Would you pay good money to look like some lopsided plastic yoke from the Two Euro shop? Perhaps you'd consider a full-body hair transplant so you could emulate Paddington Bear? Or maybe you'd like to follow in the flippers of Gerald Broflovski from South Park that time he got a dolphinoplasty?
In all seriousness though, what do you lot think of people who'll do anything to look like the object of their affections, no matter how expensive or painful (or, eh, STUPID) it might be?
