Showing posts with label Peaches Geldof. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peaches Geldof. Show all posts

Tuesday, 13 January 2009

Peaches Geldof: words cannot express...

I think I can honestly say there is no one in showbusiness I dislike more than Peaches Geldof. Every time I read about her antics in the paper my oppinion of her sinks lower, and lower.

She's popped up again today. Speculation that her 5 month marriage to Chester French rocker Max Drummey was over because she 'no longer fancied him'. Wow. Breaking news, totally unexpected as well. I'm reeling from the shock, can you tell?

She just just reeks of a spoilt, immature little 'princess'.

First of all she poisoned my ears with her wooden performance presenting Big Brother's Big Mouth in place of Russell Brand. My ears started to bleed before I had a chance to switch off. I have never heard such an annoying voice in all my life. Public school screechy smug lisp is a good way to try and describe it. Urgh.

Then she poisoned my eyes when photos of her started appearing in the London Lite and London Paper EVERY DAY for months, a various intoxicated states. The one of her bottom dangling in full view as she tried to climb over a park gate in front of a crowd of paps was the classic. Attention seeking? Surely not.



Then she made my brain bleed after I read her 'column' for American magazine, Nylon, on her life in New York. It reads more like a piece of GCSE coursework than published journalism and is so self obsessed and pointless I wondered if it was a joke when I first had the misfortune of reading it. I can't actually work out what she is trying to tell us, except that she is a spoilt brat, but some gems include:

"My days here are spent working on interviews for NYLON TV, writing articles, and listening to Cory regale me with tales of her life in L.A., which are always ludicrous and funny, her high-pitched hyena laugh filling the office as Marvin strums his guitar and dreams up ideas for the next issue."

Wow Peaches, your life sounds so cool. And then...

"My best friend here is a boy named Bunny. We spend our days traipsing around Manhattan—him in skin-tight plaid trousers, huge geek glasses, and a mass of red hair sticking out haphazardly from beneath an Amish-style hat."

Well how sweet! But what about laughing Cory and the guitar strumming Marvin?

She seems to write totally believing her own hype, expecting us all to be jealous of her 'trendy' life in New York. But in reality she just sounds like a little girl who has a lot of growing up to do. And did I mention her writing makes my brain bleed?

A A Gill, if it is him - it certainly sounds like him, sums her effort up strikingly:

"Perhaps go away for a while. Stop searching for limelight. Stop living in dreams and see now, now. Get some life experience, keep your head down until you do and save us from this insipid, vacuous social commentary that justifies the dislike of you."

Quite.

Surely everyone knows if you want some decent commentary on life in New York all you need is LibertyLondonGirl? Peaches, take note!