Kerry Katona Disrupts An Intimate Moment.

Chu Me had went outside early to see to his hens and reward his proud cock with a pat on the head. Dribble also required letting out of his stable so he could wander into the paddock for his morning frolic.

One had sought sanctuary in the Doctor Christian Room and found oneself gazing at the corner of the room upon the tapestry of the dimpled, dollop of doctorial deliciousness one had completed some weeks previous.

The lack of sound was magnificent.

One was drifting further and further into the wool-stitched eyes of one’s medical marvel when, suddenly, a terrifying sound pierced one’s eardrum like the stab from a rusty, blunt pin. The intimate moment with one’s poppet was destroyed by something that sounded like two speaker wires being crossed with the volume set on full. One jumped up from one’s chaise to investigate immediately.

In one’s peripheral vision, one witnessed former queen of Iceland (that’s the prawn ring emporium, not the bankrupt country), Kerry Katona, advertising yet another newspaper exclusive about her umpteenth ‘successful’ rehabilitation from her vices and from the evil enchantment of the Doner Kebab.

“I’m Kerry Katona” She said, “I was a mess …”

Yes you were, dear, but yellow greasy hair, an overly tight silver frock and your puppies popping out does not exactly tidy you up!