Londoners Magazine

I see Jordan has got her knickers in a twist over being blackballed from the Cartier Polo International Event.

Poor lamb. It seems after years of flashing her gash, all the cash in the world can’t buy her her way into the high society she so desperately wants to be a part of.

I mean one really should feel sorry for Jordon, Katie Price, whatever to fuck she’s calling herself now 　(you can call this rose by any other name, she’ll still a vulgar carp in my eyes). Having written a series of books on horse riding for children, ridden herself from a young age and competed at a series of events in the past 12 months, her interest and dedication in the sport cannot be denied.

But I don’t have a shred of sympathy for her. It is a long deserved comeuppance for a woman whose actions have decayed social norms and helped British society take another step down the ladder. Perhaps next time she opens her mouth she might think about how many doors she’s slamming in her own face.

Dragging herself up the celebrity food chain by dropping her knickers, this plasticine piss ant has no discernible talent, aside from pissing me off. From glamour modelling, which fed off the pricks of Neolithic cavemen, to her television shows catering to the mindless masses, there’s been books (actually written by Rebecca Farnworth), products ( a hair-care range) and a music career which fortunately died at birth.

But what truly pisses me off is her big, feckin’ mouth. Riding Posh Spice’s coat tails to fame (who ever heard of her prior to the Dane Bowers fiasco) she smeared herself across the front pages with one horrific revelation after the other. From the size of her lovers appendages to her abortions to her miscarriages to her surgeries to her rivals, on and on and on the stories come, making her look like some kind of pornographic Walter Mitty.

Jordan would sell her own if it guaranteed her the front page… and so she has. On a regular basis we are regaled with tales from her crass home life. From her marriage to that tangerine tosser to her unfortunately monikered spawn (Princess Tiáamii, Junior Savva Andreas), if one so much as farts, Heat stops the presses.

So it is for this reason that Jordan has been sent to social Siberia. Not because she has reportedly had more cock then a hen house. Not because she made her dough acting like a ho. It’s because she has blabbed about it and hence cheapened, by association, anything that has come in contact with her.

Cartier and Chinawhite, for their part claim that wires have been crossed and that the only reason the model was refused entry was because there were no tables left.

” Chinawhite didn’t receive any money from Katie – the claim that we took her money and then decided she wasn’t good enough just isn’t true“

“She’s also saying she gave us £6,000, but tables only cost £5,000. She gave the money to a third party to book a table for her, and they were unsuccessful because the tables were already sold out. They’re clearly going to rip her off a grand, so I hope she gets a refund.”

I’m sure Katie will consider the coverage more than enough compensation.