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Anorak | Strike It Unlucky

Strike It Unlucky

by | 24th, May 2004

‘IN days of yore, Britain used to export what passed for civilised society fuelled by tea served with Sheffield steel spoons. Now we export celebrities.

‘I’ve told a few Whoppers in my time…’

As Posh ventures forth into the unknown on a mission to bring light, pap and just a soupcon of fairy dust to the darkest corner of a Madrid dress shop, the Sun calls to mind another of our great British exports.

And news is that Michael Barrymore, who now lives in New Zealand, is telling his local fans, Flossy and Dolly, that ‘I’ll do whatever I have to in order to get the money’.

This mind-boggling statement comes in light of news that the non-swimming entertainer has filed for bankruptcy after receiving a £1.4m tax bill.

Barrymore is not too proud to work, and, while his school for clowns and comedians has yet to be made real, he’ll happily toil away in the most menial job imaginable.

‘I’ll fill out the Burger King application form with no embarrassment at all,’ says he.

That he might, but there’s no guarantee Barrymore will be given a job flipping burgers at the fast-food emporium.

Even if he were to get the gig, at the current rate of pay he’ll have to work – by our estimations – every hour of every day for over 100 years to pay back his debt in full.

Which means there will be little chance of him having enough spare readies to pay compensation to Terry Lubbock.

Terry is the father of Stuart Lubbock, the man found floating in Barrymore’s swimming pool, and the news if that he’s now suing the disgraced entertainer for damages.

And that’s something that’s not escaped the notice of Lubbock, who calls Barrymore’s claim of bankruptcy a ‘deliberate cheap stunt’ to avoid him having to cough up any cash if found liable.

Stunt of not, Barrymore is apparently looking for a job, and we note that owing to highly unusual circumstances there is a gap in the employment market in the Hertfordshire area.

If Barrymore can wear a dress, rap and contort his face into a pinched-face snarl, the job’s his. Oh, and he might even get to sleep with David Beckham from time to time…’



Posted: 24th, May 2004 | In: Tabloids Comment | Follow the Comments on our RSS feed: RSS 2.0 | TrackBack | Permalink