Polyfilla-pumped glamour-girl Jordan whose man-made mammaries have wowed and KO'd UK wankers for donkey's years, is a fearsome piece of made-in-a-fame-factory kit indeed, writes Bernie Bovine, Shit-Shovelling Correspondent.
Jordan, who is also known as Katie Price, has a silicone Cinderella story to tell us, and she never stops weaving the wondrous tale of her rise to synthetically-stuffed stardom. Her giant juddering jugs are never off the television or out of the pages of the popular press and celebrity magazines. Not to mention her books (too late - Ed.): Jordan's talent also extends into the literary sphere - her books are as massively-successful as her manufactured mammaries - and can best be described as titular.
After all, all she has to do is have her name on the cover and the books go ballistic, like her bounteous bunged-up boobs.
And that is indeed all that she does do, vis a vis the literary line. Have her name on the cover. And her bazookas not far behind - bang up front in fact, forming a fearsomely financially-fruitful frontispiece.
So Jordan's a big star in many ways. And now she's just got even more fulsome!
No, we're not talking about her formidable frontage now. It's the kisser department that's suddenly making the headlines.
Yes, Jordan's got a trout pout, a salmon smirk, quite a pirhana pucker, and yesterday it was a fish-faced fiesta for sure, as her brand-new blown-up embouchure, lusciously lip-glossed and glam, blew a beastly broadside at stricken Geordie songbird Cheryl Cole.
While Cheryl lies in her hospital bed, frail and Malaria-ravaged, teetering topped-up-up-top trollope Jordan taunted the bed-ridden warbling ex-wife of England football flop and narcissistic nincompoop Ashley Cole. Taunted her by flashing her fishy filler-lined lips and angling for Cheryl's X Factor panel job.
"Simon knows where I am", pouted Jordan through her painted puffed-up peckers. "Some might say 'why doesn't she fuck off?'. But I've had 13 years of being famous for fuck-all. I've still got ears and can look at looks. My whole career is about looks. I've got my own ears still, though the rest of my head is a mass of jelly. I know about looks."
But, says top celebrity face-hacker and polyfilla-pumper Dr Frank N Stein-Moreau, Jordan might talk about looks, and see looks, and look, and look. But she is in danger of looking like nothing on Earth.
"Any more injections and she is likely to fall over. Even if that does not happen, she could well become a human barrage balloon, and suffer the same fate as the Graf Zeppelin, which was a similar bloated monstrosity which soared, only to crash ignominiously down to earth.
"Or she will find that she has morphed into something quite hideous and terrifying: someone as alien and inhuman as turtle-necked square-head Simon Cowell, next to whom she may well squat malignantly on the money-spinning freak-infested sham circus called X-Factor."
Dr Frank N Stein-Moreau claimed that he was not just bitter. "Of course it's not sour grapes! I turned her down when she wouldn't agree to my prices for her Morticia make-over mangling. But I'll have the last laugh when she tires of the guppy-grimacing disgrace that has been perpetrated upon her by those back-street butchers she resorted to."
Simon Cowell reportedly said that he hoped Cheryl would recover quickly. If the good Dr Frank N Stein-Moreau is to be believed, maybe Simon's afraid he'll be out-wierded by an increasingly-plastic Ms Price!
