Heather Mills McCartney is a One-Legged Bitch

Having one leg and being a tremendous bitch have nothing to do with one another in the case of Heather Mills ex-McCartney. Or perhaps they do. I’m unfamiliar with the circumstances that led to the loss of her leg so I can’t be sure.

You see, as a man I have a natural revulsion to celebrity drama-news — something I shall start calling drews because it’s an amalgamation of the two words ‘drama’ and ‘news’ and it sounds completely pointless and stupid. I hate drews like I hate the plague.

Wait, I know how losing a leg and being a bitch could go hand in hand. Perhaps Heather Mills was at a sob-fest for endangered bears and accidentally used a honey-based body moisturizing cream that she stole from one of her hippie friends just an hour before. Every idiot knows bears love honey.

Lady McCartney (as she would prefer to be called even after the divorce) has what I call the Trifecta of Bitchdom. They are as follows:

1. Gives a shit about animal rights.
2. Fucked some rock stars.
3. Was a topless model.

You’ll find in life that the Trifecta of Bitchdom is necessarily a progressive one. That is to say animal rights leads to topless modeling in the same way a non-stop train to Whoreville leads to a town full of whores. Is it Whoreville? No one fucking cares.

Heather Mills and rock legend Paul McCartney are getting a divorce and if I know anything about divorce and women, I can say for sure it’s 100% her fault. I can prove it too!

Women who throw themselves into political causes and social agendas are not right in the head if you know what I mean. They’re an egg short of a dozen. They’re a blanket short of a picnic. They’re a soda short of a six-pack. They’re a leg short of a pair (no pun intended). They’re fucking insane.

Women who try to fix their husbands “problems” (“problems” like hair that isn’t dyed, loyal publicists who aren’t sacked, and names of said husbands who don’t appear before those of said husbands’ life-long friends and band mates) are one thing. But when they take it to a global level they’re playing the same game in a totally different league. Like how video game football is in a different league than the fucking World Cup.

That is a game called Hide and Go Seek. Women hide from their problems and their raving psychoses seek them out and self-destruct the whole fucking shit four years down the line. Sometimes it’s in the form of the pool boy and sometimes it’s in the form of a bitter resentment of hard work, celebrity, and success.

Also, you don’t marry some dude whose wife just died. It’s extremely low class.

And More Drews