Diana in Heaven

She's The Number One Gossip Columnist In Heaven communicating via her twitter feed @dianainheaven. Not one for the monarchists amongst you.
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She's The Number One Gossip Columnist In Heaven communicating via her twitter feed @dianainheaven. Not one for the monarchists amongst you.

If you’re on Twitter and you’re not following Diana In Heaven, then you’re doing it wrong. The People’s Princess has to be your first port of call if you want to know what the dead celebs are up to in the VIP section of Heaven.

Now she’s about to publish her first eBook, Diana’s Diary: Confessions Of A Big Dead Princess, lifting the lid on the dramatic goings-on in the afterlife. Sabotage Times has this exclusive preview and you can pre-order the book for a modest £2.99 at dianainheaven.com.

22nd JANUARY 2010

Fame at last – I was a contestant on Celestial Countdown today. Obviously, Richard Whiteley is in the hot seat – he took over from Geoff Chaucer when he arrived up here after beating the old man in a massive bare-knuckle tear-up inside a shipping container. Three hours they were in there.

Anyway, back to the show. It’s a bit different to the Countdown that you know. Rather than coming up the longest word, the idea is to come up with a sound from a list of different short noises. My best effort was a three second sound, kind of like a ‘Mrrraahhhhp!’

Got well beaten by John Belushi who came up with a nineteen-second sound that to me was reminiscent of the Mercedes as it roared through that tunnel in Paris in ’97. Cheeky twat.

25th JANUARY 2010

Robert Palmer spent the morning going around with his shirt undone to the waist and carrying what he reckons is one of those new iPads. I went and had a butchers at it but it was just a fucking baking tray with some purple tissue-paper squares painted on it.

Later on I clocked Palmer boring the arse off of Mark Twain, showing him the 'e-reading capabilities' of his so-called 'iPad'. All he’d done was glue a copy of the Exchange & Mart on to the fucking baking tray and then turned the pages himself.

What a bell end.

11th FEBRUARY 2010

Michael Jackson’s been pining for his chimp Bubbles ever since he arrived here a few months ago, but it looks as though he’s found a solution – he’s been working away in his shed and has come up with Bubbles 2.0.

It’s a crude attempt at a robot monkey, covered in hair that he’s been collecting from the plugholes in the shower block. Although it’s supposed to be a monkey it makes a noise that sounds like a distressed cow orgasm.

Jacko operates the thing by remote control and it can trundle along for about ten feet before it falls over and starts screaming. He seems happy with it though.

12th FEBRUARY 2010

Saw Hendrix coming out of the BMX shop earlier. I did a full-on coquettish smile and giggle. He didn't even notice me. Fuck him AND his new Diamondback grips. Saw him again later on by the swings. He took off his parka and was showing off his muscles under his Chicago Bulls vest. Got me damper than my own memorial fountain.

14th FEBRUARY 2010

It’s all gone a bit tits up for Jackson and Bubbles 2.0. Seems that Jacko had the robot monkey plugged in overnight to charge its battery and it went and overheated. The thing started jolting and jumping all over Jacko’s sleep-pod, before landing on his head and melting most of what was left of his knackered scalp.

Now Jacko’s wandering around the place in tears with a massive packet of frozen peas strapped to his scorched head. The fucked monkey is being dragged along behind him on some kind of cart, slumped over itself with its face nestling into its own (oddly oversized) balls. Charred pieces of its balaclava are stuck to the back of its head.

12th MARCH 2010

Oh, just look at poor, poor Steve Irwin. Still hasn’t come to terms with own tragic, freakish demise. Doesn’t set foot out of his pod unless he’s got his vulcanised rubber burka on and trudges around parping on a klaxon and thrashing a tennis racket at anyone and anything that goes near him.

It’s okay Steve, you’re in Heaven mate – no jellyfish can hurt you now. Be still my child.

15th MARCH 2010

A reformed Sid Vicious has been going around knocking on doors and handing out leaflets to anyone stupid enough to take one. Asking us all if we would we like to know more about God? Erm, this is Heaven you fucking dipshit – he’s the gaffer.

It's one obsession after another with Sid Vicious these days. God at the moment, cross-stitching last month and steroids before that. The other day he was going around rattling a collection tin - said he was "raising some dough for the blind and all them other cunts."

17th MARCH 2010

On gate duty with Saint Peter. He kept asking me about my Twitter thing and wanted to know what the best internet was to use. I didn’t have a fucking clue what he was on about to be honest.

We didn’t have any VIPs checking in today – just a bunch of starry-eyed normals. Lots of giggling and excited chatter. They’ll not be laughing when The Big Man has them spending their first couple of weeks shaving his infinite back for him.

Saint Peter wasn’t taking any shit today. Sent a couple of people down to The Other Place for chewing gum while they were waiting in the line.

26th MARCH 2010

Yes! Jackpot! Just checked the rota for tonight's haunting assignment - Derek Acorah's village. Going to fart right up his fucking nose while he's asleep.

To be honest, I’ll be glad to be getting away from here for a while – it’s all getting a bit tense since Bruce Lee glassed Beadle for nicking his golf clubs and replacing them with slightly shorter replicas.

If that wasn’t enough, Freddie Mercury’s got chronic PMT – reckon I’m best out of it for a few hours. Brace yourself Acorah!

2nd APRIL 2010

Shit. Jill Dando’s back from her latest spell in solitary. She’s clearly been spending her time bulking up as well as adding a few more self-made tattoos to her gory collection. Her latest ones include ‘If you’re close enough to read this, I’m probably going to destroy you’ and ‘Life is for cunts’.

She made a beeline for me in the dining hall at lunch and gobbed a full one into my macaroni cheese. Then she ruffled my hair and growled “Come and see me later and I’ll give you a Mohican like mine.” Don’t know what she means – her head’s completely shaved these days.

11th APRIL 2010

Hey, I'll tell you who's funny - Pavarotti. Took his hat off earlier, he must have been hiding half a pound of Smarties in there. Hundreds of them poured out, all over the floor. Hilarious.

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