Here's a lesson for all you wannabe celebrities out there - never fuck with a Beatle. Just ask Heather Mills what happens when you do. Yeah, Heather knows - it ain't pretty. Cause Beatles are beloved forever - seriously, Paul McCartney could burn down an orphanage, then snort the ashes of the dead children and people would say, "Well, Paul was just having a bad day. Everybody gets a few pints in them now and then and does something bad. I'm sure he didn't mean it." But people who mess with Beatle-karma? Different story. Mess with a Beatle and people will revile you, call you a gold-digger, accuse you of lying when you make allegations. Paul McCartney used to beat you Heather? Well, you probably deserved it. Oh, and he pushed you while you were pregnant, and verbally abused you, and wouldn't let you use a bed-pan even though you're a monopede and can't get to the bathroom without crawling across the carpet like a cockroach? Seems fitting, given that you are a cockroach. No Heather, sorry. Paul could've clobbered you like one of those baby-seals you love so well and people would say, "Well, he was just trying to keep her in line. Women need a little cuffing around now and then. Good for them." He could've hacked off your other leg with a rusty saw and people would say, "Well, nice of Paul to even the bitch out, eh? Now she won't look so goofy tottering around like a drunk on a pogo-stick." Can't win this one Heather. Unless of course you get all the money in the end.
