How sad that Jodie Marsh's engagement to some moron appears to be over. See comments to the previous post below - she's put up a picture of her dog on My Space saying he (the dog) is the only man in her life - and covered up some scrawl on her skin that recognised the moron's proximity to her.
One writer suggested that I should discuss Jodie Marsh and Proust in the same breath, comparing the length of her paragraphs to the length of his sentences. Certainly there is a quantitative approach to be considered, that much one can say. But if we are to find a twin for Jodie who happened to be literary, then let us look no further than JR Acklerley.
He had his Alsation Queenie and she has her bulldog Paddy. To JR, Queenie was the Ideal Friend. And what is Paddy if not the soulmate of Jodie? Perhaps the brazen glamour model, with the nose like a builder's elbow (to quote the immortal Jordan), will take a leaf out of JR's book and marry Paddy. Queenie never approved of JR's many (hundreds of) male pick-ups: who's to say that Paddy couldn't perform the similar task of chasing off any one of Jodie's innumerable studs once she had sniffed her first dog breath of the day on the pillow after some Essex nightclub expedition?
I commend this thought as OK! magazine wonders whether to ask for its money back (for in the latest issue Jodie and moron parade themselves in togetherness for chav consumption).