OK, I swore I would never write about Katie Price again, unless she developed a cure for cancer, trained as an astronaut, or stood in-front of an oncoming tank in act of defiant soldarity with Chinese students.
Turns out, that list of exceptions wasn't exhaustive, because here I am writing once again about the world's favourite authoress, entrepreneur and bucket. Despite the fact that she now resembles a Girl's World mannequin decorated by a fingerless epileptic, Katie's gruesome mug is still in the papers every single day.
Displaying a talent for story-telling as-yet unproven in her 'writing', the fullsome fantasist has been weaving a compellingly awful tale of rape that has gripped a nation of bad soap opera-lovers. Ex-husband Peter Andre claims to be "confused" by Katie's rantings, although let's be honest, he'd need help making sense of a Little Chef menu. Nonetheless, Katie maintains she's telling the truth and that Peter knew all about it.
The story itself is a constantly changing beast (much like the one telling the tale). At first Katie's rape revelation was presented in defense of her knuckle dragging boy-friend, whose only claims to fame were having a face like a Greggs Steak Bake and his ignominious appearance in a rape-themed porn film.
Katie stated in her regular OK! magazine column that she could never be associated with someone who glorified sexual violence since she herself had been a victim in the past. Unsurprisingly, the press picked up on this dramatic announcement and began digging for details.
Katie then claimed that she was horrified by the media obsession with the story, arguing that she only ever mentioned it to defend her pugilistic paramour. She even went so far as to phone into Matthew Wright's TV talkshow to discuss the matter in more detail. For someone who didn't want to talk about it, she certainly had no problems with securing more airtime. Given Wright's notoriety for 'accidentally' announcing the name of Ulrika Johnson's alleged rapist, Katie's choice of confidant was either cunning or clueless.
Interestingly, while speaking to Matthew Wright over the phone, Katie was adamant that she would never name her attacker - "Never, never, absolutely not." But in the world of celebrity, never is an awfully long time.
Which is why no-one was particularly surprised when it emerged that within 24 hours of Katie's assertion that she'd take the rapist's name to her grave, she'd 'accidentally' named him while filming her TV show 'What Katie Did Next'.
Whether or not Katie was the victim of a sex attack is for the police to determine, and despite Katie's refusal to talk (without a camera crew present) the investigation will no doubt continue. But it's worrying that Katie seems to have a never ending supply of horrifying personal traumas to call upon, none of which made it into any of the 'warts and all' autobiographies she's published to date.
When it comes to maintaining her celebrity status, nothing is off bounds. There's always another miscarriage, secret boyfriend or sex attacker to dredge up in the name of another new magazine exclusive. But Katie is resolutely unapologetic about the whole affair, claiming that she "takes it on the chin". Sadly, there's probably a tawdry story about that too, although I can't see OK! running the pictures.
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