Celebrity news & gossip from the world’s showbiz and glamour magazines (OK!, Hello, National Enquirer and more). We read them so you don’t have to, picking the best bits from the showbiz world’s maw and spitting it back at them. Expect lots of sarcasm.
“He was overwhelmed that suddenly it was all about me! I think there was a bit of jealousy….It used to be all about Simon. I used to be his plus-one, but it changed dramatically and became more about me. Even at MP events, I became the star. Simon probably just felt a little taken aback.”
The Sun adds:
Before her rise to fame, Karen was happy in her role as MP’s wife bringing up their two boys Milton and Sebastian in Rochdale, Gtr Manchester.
Odd. Yesterday the Mirror said her sons were called Milton and Maurice? still, who cares about that pair when you have pneumatic Karen and her tweets.
“There was no blazing argument. There was a lot of tension that built up over time with how our lives were becoming very different. We just knew it couldn’t go on. There was a moment the next morning where Simon back-tracked and we both cried but my mind was made up by then. I finished it for the both of us.”
Karen went solo:
“It was difficult for him for me to suddenly be in the limelight, but I’ve realised he’s got his career and now it’s time for me to not only focus on the boys but also my career.”
And her career seems to be suppoted by the Sun, whose agont aunt Dear Deirdre opines:
…this sad story of a relationship foundering because a high-profile husband can’t stand the limelight shifting to his missus is pretty familiar.
Is that what happened? Who knows. All we know is that a vain, media-friendly MP and his flirty, fame-seeking wife are in the news. A stint on Love Island or Big Brother beckons.
And it should be entertaining. As Camilla Long wrote:
I have never met a family so chaotic. (During the interview she cries and then Simon cries, both swear and loudly slag other people off and everyone behaves as if this is a perfectly normal Sunday morning.)
Liam Gallagher is not as hard as his brother Noel, who survived being autograph hunted by Tony Blair. Physically, Liam’s a cloud of manboobs. We know this because Robbie Williams saw Liam in football shorts and nylons and tweeted: “Oh that reminds me @liamgallagher – I’ve got to take my old bra’s to the charity shop.” This follows Liam’s comment on Williams back in 2013. “We should be playing the Etihad three nights, not some f***ing fat f***ing idiot,” he told BBC 5Live. And, of course, Noel described Williams as “that fat dancer from Take That”.
In the old days being fat would have made you a jolly figure of fun. Now it means you’re a loser worthy of insult. But portly Gallagher and burly Williams should realise they are simply moving through life with their fatter-by-the-year fans. If the singers could forgo the evergreen and full ‘rock star’ hair they could blend in with the crowds at any 1990s revival show.
Professional to-deadline dimwit Joey Essex is dating Charlotte Stuchfield. He had been romancing air hostesses Bethany Hitch but, as the Sun reports, tired of her “always being in the sky”. A source is quoted: “It was tough maintaining a relationship with an air stewardess. At least Charlotte only lives up the road.”
But where the Sun does it with humour – Joey, mate, Hitch doesn’t live in the sky, footballers don’t live on the pitch and waiters don’t live in McDonald’s – the Mail goes on the attack. In place of actual knowledge about Miss Stuchfield (the Mirror calls her a “mystery brunette”), the Mail produces three photos of the couple leaving an London eatery and news that the Essex’s latest flame “flashed her sideboob in a knitted top which gaped at the sides”.
The Sun is copying the Daily Mail’s habit of being shocked and amazed that famous faces have gotten older. Today, the Sun’s Dan Wootton brings us “Careless Wispa – EXCLUSIVE: Fears for ‘bloated’ George Michael as he piles on 3st”.
This is Wootton who launched his ‘No More Skinny’ campaign in the Sun, calling on fatter models and the end to the skinny obsession “madness” that does “so much damage to our body-conscious youngsters”.
Today Wootton says an “onlooker” spotted “BLOATED George Michael” at an exhibition of British pop artist Allen Jones at Zurich’s Baur au Lac hotel.
The witness says:
“He attended as it started to get dark. It was clearly George, but it was pretty shocking to see how he looked.”
No. It wasn’t. He’s 51. He looks pretty good, especially for a man so grotesque he goes out only under cover of darkness:
To further prove just how horrible George looks, Wootton invites readers to compare the singer now with how he looked in 1983.
Wow, indeed, Dan. Singer gets older. Read all about it!
Pro-celebrity hoofer and neon-hued The Only Way Is Essex survivor Mark Wright is newly married to fanciable soap actress Michelle Keegan. The couple have been on honeymoon in the fascistic enclave of Dubai. And the Daily Mirror has a question:
Did Lauren Goodger gatecrash Mark and Michelle’s honeymoon?
Goodger, who sounds like a Chas ‘n’ Dave grunt, once dated the buffed Wright. And now she is the subject of what might be the celebrity sentence of the year:
Next to a picture of a bronzed Lauren sipping a glass of champagne and sitting in front of a huge lobster dinner, she wrote: “Dubai my holidays.”
Having created an entirely new way of speaking in describing Goodger in the third third person, the Mirror then shares this photo. Do not adjust your monitor. It’s not easy to out-glow a cooked lobster in the searing Dubai heat but Goodger has cracked it:
Wright saw the photo, smashed a few coconuts and decided that it’d be dignified to respond in public:
“Endless mentions RE: me and us is embarrassing. I really thought after lawyers being involved and polite pleas to stop mentioning me she… would stop. Maybe not. It’s hurtful to think one person needs to mention YOU every week to earn a living. Being married to another woman almost makes it unfair!! [sic]… If you’re reading this, please PLEASE respect my wife and STOP. Everyone has a past, get over it!! I really didn’t want to have to do this but enough is enough. I wish you well but leave me, my life and my wife out it. I’m sure there are other ways to make money [sic].”
Having left his wife out of it by mentioning her in series of tweets, Wright then published this photo of himself apparently empathising with that lobster:
He’s the one that got away, Lauren.
Those good people at Disinfo point us towards Future Shock, the film based on Alvin Toffler’s 1970 book. Released in 1972, Orson Welles narrates.
Alvin Toffler notes:
“We may define future shock as the distress, both physical and psychological, that arises from an overload of the human organism’s physical adaptive systems and its decision-making processes… Put more simply, future shock is the human response to over-stimulation…”
This is Future Shock…
On 22 November 1963, on the same day President Kennedy was assassinated, Aldous Huxley, author of Brave New World and The Doors of Perception, died of the cancer that had been destroying him for three years. On his deathbed, Huxley asked his wife Laura to inject him with uncut LSD. She did.
Laura would attest (via):
“All five people in the room said that this was the most serene, the most beautiful death. Both doctors and the nurse said they had never seen a person in similar physical condition going off so completely without pain and without struggle.”
Finally, a whisky that will allow you to “experience the perfect combination of premium quality whisky and the most coveted women,” runs the blurb for WhiskyX. “Not only will the quality of our whisky make your heart beat faster, the thought of the same whisky touching the body of the woman of your dreams will leave you speechless.” This whisky is filtered over gold and diamonds. It is then “blended” over the bodies of adult movie stars Tori Black and Joy van Velsen. The photo features Black pouring over her chest, offering further branding opportunities for its use as a bodywash or antispetic.
The video to Dutch band De Jeugd van Tegenwoordig’s tune Elektrotechnique features DIY sex toys. If they remind you of happier times, do tell us how they work and if nails or glue is better:
In 1975, Orson Welles edited a scence from the porno movie 3 A.M.
Josh Karp spotted the master’s work in researching his book Orson Welles’s Last Movie: The Making of The Other Side of the Wind. He says Welles “wound up editing a hard-core lesbian shower scene that he couldn’t resist cutting in Wellesian fashion with low camera angles and other trademark flair.”
Welles knew his porn:
Dear Bow Wow, I have casual sex with the female fans. But how can I have my cake and eat it?
Bow Wow considers the question on his Instagram.
Yo i see yall boys still young rich and DUMB. Now james is my boy but let me say this now. This is how i USE to do it its called “leaving no evidence” if you was chilling w me my security takes phones and you signing papers. The rule is when she leaves she gets her phone back.
Dumb James is pro basketball player James Harden, seen with a fan in the above photo.
Bow Wow never talks to a groupie without first tucking a pen into his knickers.
Secondly if u forgot to take phone make sure she sleep then find her phone (usually by side of bed) i would take it put it under the bed so i KNOW im good and could sleep peacefully.
On BBC TV cooking show Number 650b, zesty Richard Blackwood is proving that there is still work to do:
Richard Blackwood doesn’t know what zest is. pic.twitter.com/BfWyGYxELW
— Mike (@pyskick) May 31, 2015
Blank on Blank’s animated video features Joni Mitchell in conversation with record executive Joe Smith back in 1986 .
More in Smith’s book Off the Record.
Samia Ghadie and her lover, Sylvian Longchambon are talking with OK! about their love, pregnancy, their love and pregnancy. It’s the cover story on this sweek’s OK!, and the treat will be seeing how the magazine can eke the two-pronged assault out for 11 pages of lover and pregnancy.
Things begin well for the couple who met on ITV’s pro-celebrity ice-sking show Dancing On Ice – some irony that a contest on the most treacherous surface should produce such a rock solid love bond now two-years in the telling.
The story can be told in an extended highlights package.
RIP Terry Sue-Patt, dead at the too-young at 50. You played Benny Green in TV’s brilliant (well, in the early day it was) Grange Hill. You stood up to Gripper in 1978.
I’m not going to investigate Mr Sue-Pratt’s life. When an actor dies, there’s no need to pick over the bones of somebody most of us never knew and didn’t care about. Better to recall what made him famous, and what pleasure he gave us.
This is episode 1 of Grange Hill. It’s shamless nostalgia.
For anyone who was at school in those days, this was must-see TV. And, to say it again, it was brilliant:
Alannah Currie, once of the three-piece 1980s band The Thompson Twins, now works as an upholsterer.
She says she has hidden poetry and handwritten stories in different parts” of her chairs. And then there is her use of marterials, which is interesting:
The foxes, swan, lamb and blue tit on my chairs are memento mori. I’m a vegetarian, so I did a lot of research to find the right taxidermist who uses animals that die naturally or are roadkill. I had to wait eight months for the swan. As far as fitting the animals into the chairs, I’m very specific. For instance, for the foxes, I measured the back of the chair, drew exactly how I wanted the foxes to be positioned and sent these drawings to the taxidermist. Then I sewed them in when they eventually arrived. All the furniture is made to be robust. It is functional art – there may be a lamb on the chair, but you can lie beside it or use it as a cushion. To me, they are very beautiful but disturbing at the same time.
You can see more of her work at Miss Pokeno.
Richard Metzger points us toward the work of Mike Young, whose YouTube channel is a beautiful horror of kamikaze karaoke. A few highlights apepar below:
Enjoy the silence:
Sexy times at Chez Thicke, where Robin Thicke’s dad Alan, 68, and wife, Tanya Callau, 40, are talking about their sex lives. News is that when getting down to it they like to have Robin in the room, aurally speaking:
“When we do get freaky, we love [Robin’s song] ‘Sex Therapy. You have to admit, it’s a great song to get in the mood.”
Who doesn’t use their children as an aphrodisiac? That question to all the parents out there….
Owen Wilson likes to say “Wow”. If the script contains enough ‘wow’, Owen Wilson is in. Had William Shakespeare wrote “Wow, to be or not to be” or ‘Wow is that a dagger?”, Wilson would have been a fine stage actor.
As it is, he just comes across as a man playing himself on camera.
Everything you needed to know about how stupid the high-brow newspapers think tabloid readers, everyone on the web and the youth are is encapsulated in an Independent headline.
This interview with Russell Brand could well win Ed Miliband the next General Election
Undaunted by the glaringly obvious conclusion that Russell Brand’s influence over the electorate is on a par with John Snow’s socks, the Indy tells its readers that Ed Miliband’s walk through his home echo chamber really mattered to the more go-head members of society:
Ed Miliband’s attempt to break the log jam by making a late-night dash to Russell Brand’s flat was the one moment which left traditional media flat-footed. His interview on Brand’s Trews YouTube channel has been watched by 1.2 million people, many of whom would never consider watching Newsnight.
How many of those 1.2 million were journalists on the social media news beat is possibly in the high hundreds of thousands. And mention of the BBC’s post-Jeremy Paxman, post- Jimmy Savile Newsnight is apt. That show’s desperation to attract a younger audience also featured the preening, anti-intellectual Brand, this time talking with the show’s Evan Davis.
It was an excruciating verbal dad-dance of BBC-sanctioned rebellion.
Brendan O’Neill saw it all:
Hilariously, the very same people who accuse the Murdoch papers of brainwashing their readers into voting for the Tories – such undiluted snobbery – believed that a celeb with a webcam and a lively Twitter presence could simply click his fingers and get the hordes voting Labour. But he couldn’t. And it isn’t hard to see why. It’s because people aren’t idiots. They want substance, seriousness, not finger-wagging gags about EVIL TORIES and instructions to ‘save Britain’ by giving the nod to Ed.
Forget middle-aged, middle-brow, David Icke-lite Russell Brand. The cool-hunting adults should invite Jake Yapp on instead – he’s cheaper and funnier: