Anything she can do...

With his ex-wife Kerry Katona dominating the red-tops in a PR campaign that would have Max Clifford touching himself inappropriately, it's easy to forget about Brian McFadden. Although, if I'm completely honest, it's never been particularly easy to remember him either.

As part of the world's most popular boyband, he did little more than stand left-of-centre to stop his smaller bandmates from falling over. Perhaps inspired by Kerry's own career-sabotaging decision to leave Atomic Kitten right before they hit the big time, Brian walked away from Westlife to focus on his family. But within six months he was walking again, this time away from his wife.

What Brian had actually meant by 'focus on his family' was 'focus on his solo career' - and he got off to a great start with a number one single he cowrote with Guy Chambers. But public interest faded pretty quickly, and by the time his debut album's campaign was finished, so too was his relationship with Sony BMG.

Ever the optimist, Brian trotted out the age-old euphemism for 'I was dropped by my label' by claiming that they had simply parted ways because he wanted to have creative control over his music.

Since then, he's been based down under where he's continued plugging away at his music career and singer-songwriter Delta Goodrem. Now, with his third album on the horizon, he's hoping to take the world by storm.

With a cool new 'electropop' sound, and an appalingly naff title, Wall Of Soundz could be Brian's ticket back to the top. After all, as he says "People are loving the music... and they're thinking 'This doesn't really sound like Brian McFadden'." Which is probably a good thing for everyone concerned.

Although his sophomore release was limited to Australia (since Brian 'chose' not to release the record in Ireland or across Europe where people might have some fleeting familiarity with him), Brian thinks this one could be big: "My last album suited certain places. This is the first time I feel like I can take a record everywhere because it suits radio everywhere in the world at the moment."

It's easy to scoff at such blind self-belief, but as his ex-wife's media transformation has proved, there's no limit to the amount of successful comebacks that one person can enjoy.

I love to hate you

Call it the fickle finger of fame. One minute you're on top of the world, celebrating the title of 'Celebrity Mum of the Year' with a frozen king prawn ring, the next you're named as the most reviled person in the UK. Katie Price and Kerry Katona (both one-time holders of the prestigious parenting prize) have finished in first and second place (respectively) in a poll to determine the 'Most Hated Women in Britain'.

Voted for exclusively by women, this study is another shamelessly misogynistic attempt at encouraging women to fight amongst themselves. For example, check out today's Mail which features a deceitfully disingenuous article about Elaine Paige and Susan Boyle, claiming that Paige said "Susan Boyle is a virus".

As for the 'most hated woman' poll, a spokesman for the market research firm which conducted the study, said of the winner, "Just when she seemed to have endeared herself to the British public again it has gone wrong. Jordan has put her foot in it time and time again." Funnily enough, I think we're all well aware that it's Dane Bowers who put his foot in it, where Katie is concerned.

To be fair though, the top ten line-up is, collectively, about as appealing as a dose of SARS. With Peaches Geldof, Fiona Phillips, Gillian McKeith and Sadie Frost all vying for the top spot, it's like Sophie's Choice in reverse - Meryl Streep would be grabbing the gun and begging for a couple of extra bullets.

Curiously, the winner and runner-up have also managed to bag the most magazine covers and newspaper headlines in the last couple of years. So why is it that we're all so fascinated by the lives of people we just can't stand? Perhaps they're like cream cakes - we know they'll clog our arteries, but we find it hard to resist.

Look at Katie Price. Despite having all the warm likeability of Dolores Umbridge in bondage gear, she's convinced herself that she's a national treasure because her TV show is the most popular broadcast on ITV2 (I guess that means an audience in double figures). The problem is, she remains oblivious to the fact that the majority of viewers may well be tuning in just in case she happens to fall into a threshing machine.

Maybe once we understand why we're able to exalt and abhor at the same time, we'll be able to explain the greatest mystery of our time - Jedward.

The Fleshy Bits

Well, here we are on December 31st and what a year it's been. I've loved writing p0pvulture every day (mostly), and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. So I thought I'd mark the end of the year with The Fleshy Bits - p0pvulture's highly coveted awards for the people who helped to make 2009 so special...

The 'I'd Prefer to be Illiterate' Award goes to the champion of bad writing, the Daily Mail

With more factual inaccuracies than a Katie Price autobiography, and a glossy veneer of hate that would make Nick Griffin wince, the Daily Mail didn't just kill the respected art of journalism, it dug up its corpse and paraded around a farmyard wearing a suit made out of its skin.

During a particularly vintage year, Jan Moir got herself crossed off Ronan Keating's Christmas card list, and Amanda Platell replaced Grange Hill's Imelda Davies as the nation's most frightening female bully.

The 'Call the RAC' Award goes to non-stop car crash Kerry Katona

With a woeful taste in men to rival Eva Braun, unhappily married Kerry spent most of the last twelve months like a long-running collision, and the bonnet is still buckling. From the blow to the bipolar, there's not a bad decision Kerry didn't make. Having sustained her 'luxury' (tbc) lifestyle for far too long, Iceland finally cut their losses and ditched the Twizzler-munching half-wit. And you know you've hit rock bottom when one of the Nolans becomes a better bet.

Kerry's now on the processed white breadline, and has even been turned down by producers of Celebrity Big Brother. Maybe they prefer their breakdowns to be a little more drawn out, rather than taking place on the stairs of the compound.

The 'Hollowed-out Volcano for Rent' Award goes to uber-villain Simon Cowell

It's been an amazing year for the king of pap music. He's helped transform Cheryl Cole from a poorly written Viz character into Vera Lynn with better hair. He found a sartorially-challenged frump and turned her into the Second Coming, inspiring a generation of lonely, middle-aged cat-ladies to believe in themselves. And he lost the battle for Christmas number one.

He didn't even realise there was a battle to be fought, until a bunch of internet rebels took exception to his arrogant assumption that the top spot was his to bestow. But just like Keyser Soze, who convinced the world he didn't exist, Cowell will have the last evil laugh. He may have pretended to lose the battle, but there's no denying he'll win the war.

The 'Ignore Them and They'll Go Away' Award goes to ubiquitous bucket and professional fantasist Katie Price

Wherever you looked this year, you were certain to see a picture of Katie Price falling out of something - whether it was love, a nightclub or her outfit. For a while she'd convinced a good percentge of the population that 'Jordan' was her slutty, foul-mouthed and uncontrollable alter-ego. But if you're going to claim 'multiple personalities', there needs to be more than one discernible character.

The divorce from singing ironing board Peter Andre was only the beginning. Amongst this year's highlights were the claims that she may be suffering from swine flu, was a kidnapping risk, and was genuinely in love with a pug-faced cage fighter who looks less convincing in women's clothes than Anne Widdecombe.

She also continued to flog her equestrian accessories range, in the process distressing more horses than the lead in Equus. Ultimately, Katie proved that she would do anything to stay on the front of the papers, and the media were only too willing to comply.

The 'Most Over-used Tool Since Ron Jeremy' Award goes Photoshop

Newspapers and magazines have been feeling the pinch ever since the internet came along, leaving them more and more desperate to snag readers with any old tripe. And in the absence of actual news, they applied the pressure to already overworked graphic designers, in order to fill the extra space in their publications. As a consequence we've been treated to the pleasures of doctored film posters, creepy child pageant participants, and pictures of Kelly Clarkson, with enough flesh removed to create a spare American Idol winner out of the left-overs.

The 'I've Still Got A Crystal Set In the Attic' Award goes to flavour-of-the-month Twitter

In the good old days (according to Joan Collins) celebrities relied on a team of well-trained publicists to keep their darkest secrets from public scrutiny. These days, we're more likely to get real-time updates from our favourite stars as they tuck their feet into the stirrups and take a deep breath. Twitter has made it possible for people to give their 'followers' access to their innermost thoughts, even whilst navigating a tricky underwear hole or fending off a troublesome ex.

I could go on, but it's now 2010. So good luck in the new year, may all your dreams come true. Even the dirty ones...

From the headlines to the breadlines

Everyone loves a rags to riches story. You know the drill - poor boy makes good, girl from the wrong side of the tracks lands preppy boyfriend. There's a whole Hollywood sub-genre dedicated to these kinds of stories. But let's be honest - we also love those spectacular falls from grace. Because we love to wonder, how do you return to the way things were once you've had a taste of the good life?

Mel B, who after a recent exercise regime seems to have morphed into Wesley Snipes in a bad weave, is currently revisiting her roots in Leeds, where she's living in a rundown terraced house. But don't worry about Scary, this isn't a result of the Spice Girls' catastrophic comeback cock-up, it's for a new reality show called 7 Days On The Breadline.

Dressed in a shabby green tracksuit with a face like thunder (so no change there), Mel has kept herself busy by visiting the laundromat and picking up benefits from the post office. Other 'celebrities' lined up to appear in the series include Trinny Woodall and Keith Allen - as if their poverty stricken neighbours haven't suffered enough already.

Sadly, not all celebrities get to finish their stint in the poorhouse then head back to their en-suites and private pools. For a select few, those miserable queues outside the Job Centre are drawing inexorably closer. And given her current state of affairs, Kerry Katona will be joining them before too long.

The latest from the world's most dysfunctional non-cartoon family is that Kerry's financial stability is hanging by a Turkey Twizzler. Of course, it doesn't help that her malignant growth of a husband has been steadily syphoning off the cash to buy flash cars and set up a string of dodgy sounding businesses. More disturbingly, Kerry now believes that Mark was even responsible for the cocaine sting that saw her ravenous drug consumption exposed on the front pages of all the tabloids.

Obviously, this level of distrust in a marriage is unhealthy, but Kerry continues to avoid relationship advice as if it was a plate of fresh vegetables. With the bailiffs now hovering, reports have alleged that Kerry has since shut herself in the attic like a latter-day Mrs Rochester.

But fear not, because hubby Mark has a plan to solve all of Kerry's financial woes. He's heard about how much money was coined in by videos of Paris Hilton and Abi Titmuss in a state of 'congress' and figures that there's a cool half-million to be made. The only flaw in his plan is that the release of Mark and Kerry sex-tape would trigger a nationwide epidemic of instantaneous blindness worthy of a Triffid invasion.

Now, is anyone else suddenly considering a whip-round to help Kerry get back on her feet?

The drugs do work

Once upon a time, a celebrity's drug habit was considered a secret shame. Publicists were regularly dispatched to explain away their slurred speech, event no-shows and crusty detritus clogging their nostrils. But something changed recently, and now it seems that rampant class A consumption is another route to enhanced celebrity status.

Fresh from his mother's funeral, 'troubled' Redmond O'Neal announced that he wanted to honour Farrah Fawcett's memory by having his ongoing struggle with addiction televised in a new reality show. Sadly, anyone keen to watch the adventures of this brattish Hollywood dropout, who looks like Prince Harry reimagined as a hoodie, will have to wait. Well, for four months at least, until Redmond is released from the Californian detention centre where he's currently battling to clean up his act. Cynical journalists have suggested that Redmond's slate-wiping exercise is motivated less by the idea of paying his respects to Farrah, and more by the fact that he won't get his inheritance until he gets 'clean and sober'.

Meanwhile, over in Utah, the Cirque Lodge rehab facility is rolling out its vomit-stained red carpet for regular guest Melanie Griffith - another child of famous parents who suffers from a notoriously addictive personality. The 52-year old actress (and cautionary tale for anyone considering plastic surgery - Demi, I mean you) is currently undergoing her third stint in rehab, although this trip has been described as part of her "commitment to stay healthy". Presumably going for a jog and drinking some mineral water just wasn't dramatic enough.

Interestingly, drug use can embellish careers even beyond the grave. Just look at DJ AM, who died this week from a presumed crack overdose. As a 'celebrity DJ' he worked the Hollywood party circuit and counted such high-class luminaries as Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and Khloe Kardashian as close friends, but didn't exactly trouble the 'who's who' lists. However, the eulogies posted on Twitter by his tabloid-friendly mates have managed to raise his profile far higher than anything he ever accomplished himself.

However, there's always an exception to prove the rule. And here in the UK it's Kerry Katona. Her over-worked septum has seen her dumped by Iceland after a painfully long-running ad campaign. And let's face it, when Iceland worries about the effect you're having on its brand, you really have hit rock-bottom. But Kerry's unwilling to give up snorting, so much so that even her husband Mark Croft is worried enough to tell the News of the World about it (for a fee of course).

It's clear that all of these people have substance abuse issues, but it's not the drugs that seem to be the problem. When it comes to maters of addiction, fame seems to be the real trigger.

Iceland hates snow

With her money-making opportunities continuing to dwindle, Kerry Katona must be kicking herself with a turkey drummer tonight, as it emerges that Iceland has finally said 'enough is enough' and dropped her as its official spokesmess.

This latest disappointment comes off the back of News Of The World's shocking revelations about Kerry's continued drug use, and I'm not referring to her bi-polar medication. It emerged this weekend that Kerry's appetite for kebabs and £1 pizzas is rivaled only by her appetite for cocaine. She was filmed in her bathroom snorting a big fat line, as her kids were playing downstairs with the nanny.

As a result, Iceland has decided to cut its losses and ditch the drug-addled dosser from its depressing ad campaign. In a statement, the frozen-food pushing supermarket chain said "We have always stood by her, as an example of a normal person and mum who has experienced some of the modern day culture of fame, and how difficult it can be to deal with. However, following the most recent allegations, we feel it is impossible for Kerry to continue to work with us as one of the faces of Iceland advertising."

Somehow, Kerry has finally managed to piss off her employers, after years of trying to prove what an unsuitable role model she was for anyone with a functioning brainstem. The alcohol abuse, the rehab, the plastic surgery and the marriage to a man who made Kevin Federline look like a catch, were all excusable indiscretions. But this was clearly a snort too far for the powers that be at Iceland's head office.

So what will Kerry do now? Having just put on two stones in weight purely so she could sell the story to the glossy magazines, Warrington's finest is clearly running out of ideas, and unwilling to help herself. According to friends who don't know the first thing about inappropriately chosen words, Kerry is convinced "that this will all blow over."

But this is nothing new, since even Kerry's own mother has expressed concern (in exchange for payment) that her daughter's self-esteem is non-existent. Criticising her no-good son-in-law, Sue Katona said "He [Mark] told her he was just messing about, but anyone with half a brain can see that if those girls were up for sleeping with him, he would have done it." Sadly, it seems that when it comes to her daughter, Sue isn't particularly good with fractions.

What's the problem (as if you need to ask)?

Something lighter now, after yesterday's rather po-faced installment. It's been reported today that MTV has finally admitted what we've known all along, no-one really cares about Kerry Katona anymore. Despite her best attempts to lead a compellingly chaotic life, the viewers have been switching off in droves.

Having singlehandedly created the reality TV sub-genre of carcrash-o-vision, where she could regularly command audiences of 500,000 stoned rubberneckers, it seems she's fallen on hard times with viewing figures dropping to a paltry 19,000. 'What's The Problem?' has been following Katona's life with bipolar disorder and a husband who, if he was a dog, would have been neutered long ago. But with audiences lower than Kerry's self-esteem, the show has finally been axed.

According to a show insider, "People already knew half the stuff in the show as it had been in the papers. So when you were watching her split from Mark, you knew they were going to get back together."

Poor, stupid, human airbag Kerry. She was so keen to sell her stories to the papers, that she forgot she was effectively creating spoilers for the show. Even the most tedious, idiotic soap operas understand the need to keep their plot twists under wraps, but not Kerry. As a consequence, it was a little like giving away free MP3s and then asking people to buy the album.

At least she's still got those classy Iceland ads to keep her and the kids in E-numbers, not to mention a life partner who makes Fred West look like husband-of-the-year material.

But just in case anyone starts feeling withdrawal symptoms when Kerry finally vacates the airwaves, I can highly recommend ICT celebrity news. Seemingly using some kind of automated translation software to covert stories into foreign languages, and then back to English again, the website's coverage inadvertantly manages to capture the inane surrealism of Kerry's life. Here's how they reported Kerry and Mark's third split this year (weirdly listed under 'politics'):

"...But Katona, who mated Croft on Valentine’s Day digit eld past and has digit kids with him, was trusty she would be splitting up with him again. The stylish rift comes after the grapheme claimed her bi-polar drug had undone her figure.
“I’ve place on digit stone, I’m so fat. It’s the drug that puts coefficient on, so there’s not a aggregation I crapper do,” the Sun quoted her as saying.
Despite hiring a individualized simulator to support her drop weight, Katona said that Croft likeable her figure."

Is Stanley Unwin working the news desk these days?

Are we sure they're related?

Kerry Katona must be furious. After all, her own (estranged) flesh-and-blood have put the mockers on her plans for a tearful family reunion.

It turns out that the death of her (also estranged) father led to the discovery of a whole host of new relatives to parade in front of MTV's all-too-eager camera crew. Presumably, now that she's taken back Mark, Kerry's recently announced series about her imminent divorce has had to be pulled. So she needs another area of her disastrous existence to capture on video instead. But when Kerry set up the meeting with her new-found family, they objected to the fact that she wanted it all capturing for her next TV series. Imagine that - someone that shares Kerry's genetic code objected to having an important moment in their life turned into disposable celebutainment.

Apparently, the meeting went well and the family plan to catch up again soon. Which means we'll probably never hear about them again. After all, the cameras are only ever interested if things are going wrong, and in these terms, Kerry Katona is like ground zero. If an unfortunate life is considered a car crash, Kerry Katona's is a 14-car motorway pile-up involving a school bus full of orphans and a tanker full of toxic waste. And we're the rubberneckers slowing down to view the carnage.