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Heath Extension

by | 30th, July 2006

I WANT your sex, Norman Kirtland. Norman was 58-years-old and had a pot belly.

On Monday the Sun had a picture of Norman standing on his local Brighton beach. And it told its readers that Norman was the man caught having a “seedy liaison” with George Michael on London’s Hampstead Heath.

For his “romp” with George, Norman wore shorts, T-shirt and rubbish trainers. The man described as a “gay dogger” went on to explain.

“I don’t even like George Michael’s music,” said Norman, although it was not thought George was singing at the time of their meeting in the bushes at 2am on a weeknight. “I’m not a fan. I prefer soul music myself. I never liked Wham! or any of his stuff.”

Any soul singers striding manfully across Hampstead Heath would be advised to look out. If Norman kisses and fondles (Mirror) a singer he does not like, the mind boggles at what he’d do to one he does.

On Tuesday it was hot…again. Evidence of global warming it might have been, but our advice to bosses looking round their empty offices was (pace Noel) to See (Climate) Change As A Good Thing.

And might environmental change have played a small part in George and Norman’s entanglement? It’s hard to look anything but shady when hiding in the bushes out of the reach of the merciless sun.

Not that George was looking to excuse himself. “I’ve got no issue with cruising,” he said on Wednesday. I’ve talked about it many times. So they have to make me look like the gay Wayne Rooney, don’t they?”

By cruising the singer meant to search the streets and other public places for a sexual partner. He did not mean the kind of cruising Wayne Rooney had been up to of late, namely getting sunburnt on a boat in the South of France.

Indeed, what Wayne had to do with George’s kiss and grope on Hampstead Heath with Norman Kirtland was a moot point. Perhaps in the course of their entanglement, George had planted his metatarsals in Norman’s groin. Perhaps Norman, described in the Star as “fat, balding, unemployed”, asked him to?

On Thursday we were looking at another star’s groin. David Hasselhoff was sat on cart at Heathrow Airport. He wore dark glasses, a shirt and a wet path on his crutch.

Had David, fresh from saving lives in the fountain below Nelson’s Column in London’s Trafalgar Square pulled on his jeans over his swimming trunks without first letting them dry?

Whatever the reason, Hoff, who had been seen drinking, was deemed unfit to fly. The lounge manager approached. “I don’t think you’re fit to fly, sir,” he said. The Hoff looked up. “I think you are right,” came the reply.

He was advised to sleep it off and board a later flight. But there will be Press photographers keen to examine his stain. “Why?” he asked. “I’m not a bad man. Kill them.”

We never did get to the bottom or, indeed, the wet front of The Hoff’s wet patch. But on Friday we were promised a look at what Harry Potter looks like naked.

News was that Daniel Radcliffe, who played the class swot in the Harry Potter films, was now 17 years old. That was shock enough, but there was more. He was to star in a stage play in which he will be seen “simulating a sex act while riding on a horse”.

There was a temptation to applaud Daniel’s versatility and agility. But his stagecraft was overshadowed by something else, something almost morbid.

Daniel was to star in Equus, in which he will play Alan Strang who enjoys an “erotic relationship with horses”.

Although not with George Michael. That would be too weird…



Posted: 30th, July 2006 | In: Broadsheets Comment | Follow the Comments on our RSS feed: RSS 2.0 | TrackBack | Permalink