Love is a very fickle thing. My squeaks of delight as the trailer for the new series of the Boosh shimmied onto the screen last night were quickly replaced with guttural sounds of horror and loathing.
What the effing Norah Jones has Noel done to himself?
It’s impossible to find actual footage of this hideous transformation, but he’s dyed his hair a shade of red last seen on Davina Mcall on those sodding Nutrisse adverts (nutrisse means nourished.) He is also so pale that it’s hard to believe he hasn’t been living deep underground for the last few months, only coming out at night to forage for mascara and nail varnish.
It’s going to be difficult to get past this. I struggled with his goth stage, but pushed on through, because he still had a lovely fringe and looked exceptionally sexy in tight jeans. So sexy, that I wanted to do things to him that would probably be rated PG-13 for sequences of fantasy violence and frightening images.
Noel, I could forgive you for poking Peaches Geldof and her sister in the same month. For that brief period where you appeared to be morphing into Courtney Love’s twin sister. But if you continue to ruin your little pointy face with cosmetics, divorce proceedings will almost certainly be where this will end. And if you turn up in court resembling an anaemic disco ball, I’ll almost certainly get the kids. Good day sir.