Hot on the heels of shattering revelations that X-Factor supremo Simon Cowell had a thing about Geordie mime merchant, Cheryl Cole, a Burnley woman has announced that Simon Cowell will be the duly designated father of her projected eleven children. Even though he knows nothing about it yet.
The woman, who withheld her real name in order to protect her as yet unborn children from media intrusion, asked that she be referred to as 'Dirty Joyce' and she hinted that she resided on Stoops Estate in the town, although she appeared to be too bewildered to go into any detail. Probably because she gave the impression of being as pissed as a fart, and even more promiscuous than your average porn star.
"The blokes round here are all losers," Dirty Joyce told Skoob Entertainment News. "They don't have jobs, and they just go out burgling houses and mugging people in the middle of the night. I don't want that for my kids. They deserve something better. And who better than Simon Cowell?"
When SEN supremo, Buffty Ginslinger, asked Dirty Joyce how she intended to arrange for Cowell to sire her offspring, she responded:
"I'll take him down the pub and buy him a bag of whelks off one of them Scouse blokes what flog seafood out of a basket. I haven't met a man yet who could resist that, and I don't see Simon as being any different. You never know, I might even wear clean knickers - after all, it is likely to be special occasion."
One which is to be repeated eleven times?
"Oh aye," Dirty Joyce responded. "I want a football team, see? Eleven little Simon Wayne Rooney Cowell babies. Every one'll be worth millions. They'll start off at Burnley and then graduate to Man United, Real Madrid, Barcelona, AC Milan and that, and have hair transplants, loads of really stupid tattoos and breast augmentation surgery, for a laugh, like. And when they stop playing football they can go on X-Factor and make squillions. You don't get that many kids with the one eye in the middle of their foreheads - I suppose you could call them 'Cyclops Kids' or something, hitting the big time. Failing that I'll set the Child Support Agency on the hair-dying man-boobed bastard. Oh yes. I've got my life well sussed out mate. Once I lose seven stone, Cowell will be like putty in me hands. And if he catches gentle warts, or whatever they call it, - it wasn't me."
"Fuck me!" expounded SEN's Buffty Ginslinger. "This one's got an eye for publicity. Personally, I wouldn't touch her with a shitty stick!"
Not even bent over a skip in a pub car park whist munching on an Ali Bullo mixed kebab special.
More as we get it.