Kerry Katona, don’t ask me why, but she iritates me

Don’t ask me why, but Kerry Katona gets on my nerves. Her endless plugging of Iceland products and frequent boyfriend-swapping activities bore the hell out of me, yet she manages to get her moosh into every magazine and paper on the shelf.

Now, to make things worse, she is to release a perfume. Yes, a perfume. God knows what it’ll smell like, because I have an idea what she’s going to whiff like after hours pushing a trolley around the local Iceland shop and bagging dozens of boxes of fish-fingers … believe me, it ain’t good.

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