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Home > Music

Mariah Carey: the tears of a clown

God-bothering death-dodging prude Mariah Carey has been whining on about not being able to find a boyfriend again.

5 September 2003

Well, boo fucking hoo.

Carey told Bild, the German pornbloid, that she didn't know why no-one was interested in her. She thought it was because of her fame. Which is obviously part of it. Not because she's famous per se however. Rather because she's the type that never goes anywhere without an entourage, the type that never leaves 'Mariah Carey the superstar diva' at home.

Or maybe she does. Christ, what do we know? Just because we haven't seen her kicking back at our local kebabbery doesn't mean she doesn't do these normal things, wearing a fake moustache and a big hat. Who's to say she doesn't hang out with her mates at the local bar or mall, chatting about girly stuff and tossing a smile about the place, catching the eye of some ordinary Joe out grocery shopping? Well, we are. We know her personally. And she told us, one night, in Burger King it was... she said, 'Guys, you know *why* I don't have any real friends? It's because itís been so long since I lived in the real world.'

And then we group-hugged and chanted together. And then we told her that she would never be alone because we were there for her, and we'd give her strength and love, and together, together we'd make it through the rain. But then she got all weepy about nobody ever loving her and it looked like she was going to start getting careless with the crockery again. So we scarpered.

And anyway, it's not poor Mariah's fault she's a screaming basketcase. It's all the fault of her hideous past. Before she was famous, you know: poverty, broken home, badly messed-up sister, subsequent fear of intimacy and crushingly low self-esteem. On the one hand, naturally you feel sympathy for her. Pints of it. But on the other hand, you kind of want to give her a good old kick in the berries for her odious blandness and her inability to use any of the pain she says she feels to produce some decent music. Instead of 'Through the Rain', why not 'Through the Pain'? Instead of 'Charmbracelet', why not 'Razorbracelet'?

Let's hear it, Mariah. You haven't got a bad voice on you, but frankly, until you inject a bit of acid and a bit of blood into that honey, you're always going to be absolute crap. And alone. Muhahahahahahahaha. See you at eight, chicken.

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