They don't want to know your mum's your best friend. They want you to be some one-armed lesbian asylum seeker. They want the full cellulite shots. They want a 40 in the bed perv orgy with your Spice mates. They want you mainlining, arm jacking, smack crack nightmare, darling. They want you filleted and splayed on the butcher's block so they can photograph all your organs for Heat magazine. I mean frankly, for once, I want to see you foaming at the mouth, stinking of piss in the gutter with this little thumb stuck up Justin Timberlake's arse and you wearing nothing but a Gucci belt.