Watching that enjoyably lobotomised MTV show My Super Sweet 16 I’ve always thought it must be ace to have really rich and famous parents. It’s carte-blanche to behave like a complete prick the whole time, because, you know, they were never there for you, and they, like, totally don’t understand how cruel life can be when you pull into school in your ’08 Range Rover Sport only to see Sarah Jessica Parker’s cousin parking the new Hummer H3. I think it was Luthor Vandross’ son who actually cried and locked himself in his room all day because his dad couldn’t even get Kanye West to play at his party…I mean come on, surely that’s grounds for child abuse?
But there’s rich, and then there’s buy-your-own-country rich. Outside of guys who’s first name is ‘Sheik,’ the richest guy I know is Roman Abromovich, so as his daughter Anna prepares to make the intrepid journey into womanhood (i.e. get finger-banged behind a fruit machine by someone who’s 378th in line for the throne), he’s taking a break between building mobile lairs to throw her a party she’ll never forget. The exclusive bash will be held in an as-yet-unnamed trendy
It seems though that for the right price (or thinly-veiled threat) anyone is for sale, as Klaxons’ frontman James Righton is a huge Tottenham fan, and even once missed out on a trial with
Sorry Roman that was a bad joke, please don’t have me killed! I really like