CALUM - SIMPLY THE BEST
I have a huge admiration for the work of Calum Best. The selfless way he sacrificed his own career and happiness to secure India’s independence from the British was truly a magnificent feat. He was jailed and beaten for his beliefs on a number of occasions but even that couldn’t deflect him from his burning passion to insure justice for a great and peaceful nation. Men of his ilk are rarely seen upon this earth and we, as a race, should be proud to walk the same ground as this colossus of human dignity who almost single-handedly change altered the moral landscape of the world……. Ah…no…….hang on, I’m thinking of Hahatma Gandhi. Calum Best on the other hand, is a professional celebrity who spends the majority of his time falling out of nightclubs in the early hours of the morning in a cocaine fuelled haze with his arm around some vacuous, large-breasted trollop.



Dear Sir,
Having read your posting (published above) I left duty bound to reply in empathy for your plight. I also have the unfortunate habit of muddling visionary beacons of world peace with minor celebrities. A number of years ago I had completed a four page letter of tribute to Mother Teresa and was standing over the postbox having just dropped my letter when it dawned on me that I had mistakenly addressed it to Abi Titmuss. Luckily Miss Titmuss was able to appreciate the funny side. I apologized to her for my ineptitude and wished her the best of luck in displaying her breasts, performing in homemade, hardcore porn flicks, shagging fellow minor celebrities, whoring herself on any TV show that would take her and generally doing nothing in her life of any value whatsoever.
Yours truly,
Margaret Planktum
Stoke.




Dear Miss Planktum,
I suffer from the same, unfortunate affliction. As a huge fan of the pop group Blue. I like to regularly write to Duncan James to tell him how much I appreciate their music and how it speaks directly to me, giving me some kind of understanding of this mad mad world. I particularly like Duncan because he seems the most approachable member of the band. I love his fashion sense, his haircuts and his cheeky smile. I’m also very partial to his cockney accent (even though he was bought up in the country somewhere) Many see him as a vain, essentially talentless, pointless, perma-tanned little twat who should be put down, but not me – I love him. My devotion has reached such an extent that I have undergone extensive plastic surgery to look like him, I have named all my children Duncan (I have three girls) I have smeared his name in blood on every item in my house and painted a large mural in the garden of his perfectly proportioned face. I have also bought a large area of wasteland near my house with the intention of building a seven-acre shrine in his honour (complete with parking facilities, a Blue burger bar and a crèche). Imagine my embarrassment then, when I realized I’d been addressing all these correspondences not to Duncan at all but Sir Bob Geldof, who is, of course famous for trying to eradicate starvation from the world by galvanizing public opinion and pressuring world leaders into policy change and not for singing inane pap and trying to pass his existence on this planet off as in some way important.
Yours,
Anthony Tarnish
Somerset.