Wood You Believe It?

From time to time, the custodians of this blog like to side-step away from the footballing matters that give us mild cardiac trouble and nail our colours to the mast.

Everybody has their favourite Beatle; where Polardin and I are concerned, it's Paul McCartney. The yin of worshipping Liverpool's favourite wobbly-head comes with the yang of despising everybody's least-favourite gold-digging, publicity-hungry cretin: Heather Mills.

Not happy with holding out for as much as Sir Paul's money as she can, her inability to just f*ck off and leave us all alone has become evident once more this week. She has flown to Hollywood to plan a film about her life...and somebody had better warn Reece Witherspoon as it is believed that she is Mills' preferred choice to play the part of her.

Let's just say that Polardin and I won't be bothering buying that on DVD, which is the format that the film will be heading straight for as a grossly disinterested human race renders the cinema seats well-and-truly empty.

Heather Mills, just piss off. Thank you.