Geli Voyante's Hot or Not Read Free

There’s nothing faux or unnatural about me… unlike the silicon in her.
    I n public, however, it’s a different story. There are air-kisses for the silly cameras that inevitably seem to follow Tiggy Boodles around like the poop (not the scoop) she is. For the record, the air-five is the Hot way to greet friends and enemies alike. She schizophrenically acts like we’re best buddies because we both hail from the same hometown of Durban, South Africa, we both attended the same university here in the UK – Leeds – and we now live in London, where we write a similar column, in the same publishing family. I quickly and rather unnecessarily add that my column is far superior, but as we both work in the New News family and with New News being big on family values, bizarrely they encourage this deluded, juxtaposed rivalry in the spirit of sisterly banter. They think it’s great, newspaper talk for: it sells copies.
    To me though, despite what senior management may say, Tiggy Boodles is faux and I hate her. She is nothing but a parasite whose favourite activity is replicating my life to torture me. Go figure. 
    It wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, back in Durban, we were best friends, inseparable in and around the Berea, the neighbourhood where we both lived. This was up until the point she stole my childhood sweetheart, Eric Nevis, in a move that divided the loyalties of our year group at Durban Girls’ College and then we were never found in the same vicinity again. Even though our worlds collided practically every day and we shared the same physical space, we were operating on different levels . That made it like we weren’t in the same place, even if she was standing two metres away or sharing a desk with me in class. The girls’ loyalties may have been divided, but the teachers didn’t care. Hence, the forced desk sharing. 
    Eric later cheated on her – he slept around, especially w ith the tourists frequenting Durban’s Golden Mile – and, to my great delight, gave her a nasty disease. It gets better. He then told everyone the real reason why he dumped her instead of covering it up with social niceties. Fantastic! Even if he had left me for Tiggy I instantly forgave him for that.
    E very so often, I like to include STIs in my column as Not Hot. It gives me great satisfaction to know I’m subtly, but publicly, having a dig at Tiggy. Better still, she knows it. It also wins me brownie points with the adults because I have a huge teen following and it promotes me as a modern day heroine for promoting safe sex. Ha! And it’s all thanks to Tiggy Boodles for being a cheating, phoney slut. It kills her to know that.
    However, Tiggy Boodles may be a cheating, phoney slut, but she is a cheating, phoney slut who is now engaged. That smarts. More so than when she enticed Eric away from me using the lure of cheap sex. I cannot believe a girl of her dubious morals is getting married before I am, and to this Calvin person, whoever this deluded Calvin person is. Quasimodo’s uglier brother, perhaps?
    Quic k! Click on Calvin’s name. Excellent, his profile isn’t limited.
    Oh dear… Oh dear, oh dear … This is not good. This is not good at all:
     
    Name: Calvin Murphy-Lee
    Sex: Male
    Interested in: Women
    Relationship Status: Engaged to Tiggy Boodles
    Birthday: 16 th January, 1977
    Hometown: Windsor, Berkshire
     
    And, oh my , he’s Hot . Let me just view some more photos to make sure. OK, he is deliciously hot. Look at that picture of him on the beach. Hel-lo Mr washboard abs. Hel-lo chunky man thighs. Hel-lo baby blue eyes. Hel-lo perfection.
    Life is truly not fair. How is Tiggy Boodles, Tiggy Boodles of all people, engaged to a deliciously hot, thirty -year-old City boy who is probably worth millions by now and who, worst of all, looks nice ? Not just nice in the looks sense, but like a nice person .
    He’s tagged in an album entitled “Christmas with Shelter ”. Calvin has sacrificed his Christmas