EVER wondered that celebrities would look like if they wer photoshopped to look ‘normal’? Well, some bright sparks went to work and produced these images of Scarlett Johansson, ‘poor’ Jennifer Aniston, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie and Madonna. They are all brilliant:
CAROLINE Flack once dated Harry styles, leading hair in One Direction, a teenager her junior by 14 years. Many one Direction fans were upset. Stephanie Eff spotted this article in a One Direction fan magazine subjecting Caroline Flack to Daily Mail-style sexism. Looks like the next generation of the newspaper’s columnists are keeping up with the programme to present all women as competition to ridicule and rubbish in public…
You can click the image to read it in full:
“Never before have 1D fans united in greater numbers than to share their ‘feelings’ for Caroline Flack, the old woman who dated Harry Styles. She was the host of England’s The X Factor where 1D got their break. But today she spends her time reading hate mail. So to help you, here’s voodoo doodoo Caroline.”
UPDATE: The magazine is called Girl’s Guide to One Direction HD. It was published in May 2012 by New York-based publisher Topix Media Lab LLC. You can buy it on via iTunes.
The greatest magazine dedicated to the greatest band in the world. Everything you have to know about One Direction including never-before-seen photographs, backstage controversy, exclusive interviews and secrets on meeting the band (from re-tweets to getting their attention at concerts). Plus digital posters, matching games and the first ever One Direction Awards Ceremony!
TIA Sharp. With Stuart Hazell is custody accused of her murder, the tabloids’ reporting on the case is curtailed by law. So. The Sun does what it always does, cocks and ear to the prison cells and hears that lags want to murder Hazell. He’s to appear in the Old Bailey via videolink today.
The headline thunders:
Inmates vow to kill Tia accused
What inmates. And why are they in prison? The Sun does not say:
Stuart Hazell, 37, is in isolation on a wing with paedo-philes and rapists at high security Belmarsh prison.
YES! Poor Jennifer Aniston, the tabloids’ ‘Poor Jen’, is marrying Justin Theroux (photos of his buffness here). The mega-rich, successful actress who shagged the young Brad Pitt before he was saddled with children and hats, who has great hair and a nose that sits on the front page of Messers Nip ‘n’ Tucks’s Hollywood catalogue is marrying a good looking man with no baggage.
THE record industry has long been in decline. Basically, people got sick of the mark-up on CDs and, more importantly, were thunderously tired of having to find places for their CDs to live. MP3s may lack the character of vinyl and such, but boy howdy, they’re a lot neater aren’t they?
Sadly for the recording industry, MP3s (a format designed to maximise profits) are easily stolen, which has seen sales dropping dramatically. Which brings us to the news that Rihanna has just topped the album charts with the lowest sales figures EVER.
THEIndoor League was broadcast live from the Leeds Irish Centre. Your host was Fred Trueman, proud Yorkshireman and cricket great from the period when only men born in the northern Republic could represent it at bat and ball. Your commentator was Sid Waddell, the erudite Geordie with the common touch. (Read his great quotes here.) In the early 1970s, The Indoor League made it onto the ITV network. It was serious business.
Sid Waddell recalled one infamous bout as he surveyed the room:
“Fred Trueman used to stand up there, on the stage, giving it large in a cardigan. The shove ha’penny was over there … here would have been the bar billiards. And that’s the door out of which I had to smuggle Terry Yorath when the fight broke out at the table football.”
No sooner had the first golden post box been unveiled to honour Britain’s Olympic champion, than it was duly vandalised. Is this a new British record? Not at all – this massive Olympics billboard was defaced within hours of its unveiling, and the flowers in the Olympic Park were swiftly trampled underfoot by the destructive forces of the Great British Public.
AS the papers salute Mo Farah, the Somalia-born double gold meal winner for Team GB, the Daily Mirrorreadies its readers to the post-Olympic descent. The paper choses the morning of the final day of the London 2012 Games to leads with the news that paedos are out to get your children:
“TWITTER PAEDOS EXPOSED – Police swoop as we reveals vast network of child perverts”
After sport and bonking, drugs-taking celebs, what tabloid readers next like to look at is a story on paedophiles, especially in the summer months. The number of child rapists is not high. The number of readers who like reading about them – and politicians and hacks who like to talk about them – is huge. What better story than one of peados to illustrate all our fears? Is this interest in paedophiles healthy? No. Is the Mirror just tapping into a subject that it feels will unite its readers in a common revulsion? Yes. Does that story foster mistrust, telling us all that it’s not only strangers you need to be fearful of but every adult, even those in a virtual world behind your computer screen? Yes. From being a nation of winners the Mirror reminds us that we are locked in fear of one another, insular and suspicious. The paper says:
“Vile perverts using social networking site to find victims and trade intelligence”
TIA Sharp is front-page news. If it bleeds it leads, runs the old news mantra. Tia Sharp has died. Stuart Hazell, a man who lives with her grandmother, Christine Sharp. He is the last person believed to have seen her alive. He’s been arrested on suspicion of her murder. The news round-up:
Update: Christine Sharp, 46, was arrested on suspicion of murder yesterday and is being held at a south London police station.
Update 2: South-East London Area Commander Neil Basu said: “An early review has been conducted and it is now clear that human error delayed the discovery of the body within the house. We have apologised to Tia’s mother that our procedures did not lead to the discovery of the body on this search.”
Daily Mail (front page): “SHAMBLES – Despite a week-long hunt by 100 police with dogs, Tia was found dead in her granny’s house, which officers had searched THREE times…and man they quizzed has disappeared.”
The Mail blames the police, names the victim but steers clear of naming the accused man in its headline.
TIA Sharpe’s body has been found. It was at her grandmother’s home. A murder investigation is now underway. Police are seeking to talk with Stuart Hazell, the grandmother’s lover. It’s a man hunt, says Sky News.
UPDATE: TiaSharp suspect Stuart Hazell arrested after being spotted by passer by. He’s been charged with murder.
Tia Sharp was last seen leaving her grandmother’s home in New Addington at around 12.00hrs (midday) on Friday 3 August.
Today police moved journalists away from the home in New Addington Stuart Hazell shares with Christine Sharp. They sealed off an area. After the drip feeding of information on Stuart Hazell, the police went in and pulled the place apart. They sensed something was wrong. Police Officers blocked off the alley to No. 20 The Lindens, New Addington, Surrey.
Christine Sharp has not been arrested. She was seen wearing her ‘Missing Tia’ T-shirt as she got into police car.
JOURNALISTS should especially enjoy this report from a Melbourne University journalism student who spent two weeks toiling at a newspaper’s office. She wrote up her experiences at the coalface for us to enjoy. Highlights are many. For those of you spent your training being bawled at, having a heavy telephone chucked at your face by an upset editor (ahem) and made to work hard and fast, this testimony should be an entertaining read.
Throughout the week, I was consistently subjected to patronising attitudes, being referred to as ‘Little Bud’, ‘Champ’ and ‘Kidlet.’ Men were also continuously and unnecessarily sexist, waiting for me to walk through doors and leave the elevator before them.
TIA Sharp: Anorak’s at-a-glance look at the missing 12-year-old girl in the news:
The Sun has issued a £25,000 reward for information that “will lead police to find missing Tia Sharp”. Does the reward get a result? The Sun seems to think so. It selflessly has offered rewards in the cases of missing Joanna Yeates and missing Shannon Matthews. The Sun’s now dead sister paper the News of the World offered a hug reward for anyone who could find Madeleine McCann. All these appeals came with a free poster you can stick on your shops, window or car. Selflessly, all posters carry the newspaper’s logo, co-branding the missing and murdered with a tabloid banner. So what that the Sun’s owners and former editors are in the mire for allegedly hacking the phone of murdered schoolgirl Milly Dowler and perverting the course of justice. The Sun will show one and all how much it cares by offering up some cash.
FIRST the Daily Expresspublished a photo of the bronze medal winning Dutch dressage team as a sign of Team GB’s golden greatness, then the Daily Mirror used the same Dutch in its centre pages, their beaming faces below the headline: “ONLY GOLDEN HORSES – Trotters win gold in South-east London”.
LIKE us, you’ve been wondering who the beach volleyball players are. We looked at the feed from the Press Association and the Associated Press. We wanted to put names to the buttocks. But it proved to be a tricky task. It seems that beach volleyball is just buttocks. Buttocks on legs. Buttocks being pointed at by inverted ‘V’ signs. Sandy buttocks. Most of the buttocks have no faces. Some have a torso.
Without further ado, here is The Who’s Who of the 2012 Olympic Beach Volleyball (sponsored by Club 18-30 holidays and Saucy Seaside Postcards). The captions are all as told by the aforesaid PA and AP news wire services:
“Anastasia Vasina, left, from Russia holds hands with her teammate Anna Vozakova, right, during the Beach Volleyball match against China at the 2012 Summer Olympics, Saturday, July 28, 2012, in London.”
AS the Daily Mail salutes Jessica Ennis and ‘plastic Brit’ Mo Farah, featuring photos of the 10,000 metre gold medalist celebrating with his family before a thrilled crowd and the heptathlon champion (Ennis) wrapped in the Union flag, we look back to what the paper’s Rick Dewsbury wrote on 28 July. Dewsbury watched the opening ceremony. The thing was overtly political. But that did not prevent it from being a great spectacle.
The headline announced:
The NHS did not deserve to be so disgracefully glorified in this bonanza of left-wing propaganda.
ITS as easy as riding a bike. So they say. It turns out that the British are rather good at riding bicycles. We’ve trawled the archives and can bring you the history of British cycling in photos – 1895 to the present:
Bradley Wiggins, winner of the 2012 Tour de France cycling race rides up the Champs Elysees with his son during a parade after the last stage of the race in Paris, France, Sunday July 22, 2012. (AP Photo/Christophe Ena)
SIR Chris Hoy and Bradley Wiggins have got us all on our bikes. But a word of warning. “A RIDE OF DEATH” is a brochure from the 1940s, produced by the police Safety Council. Children were taught that just looking at a bicycle would you killed. It’s not just the sharp bits of exploding metal that slice your skin. It’s the cars. The buses. The lights. The night. The transport plane. The pavements that “suddenly appear” and causes death…
WHEN the Spanish water polo coach considered ordering his team to stay in the pool, and South Korean fencer Shin Lam’s refused to leave the platform in protest over the circumstances of her defeat to Germany’s Britta Heidemann, they was following in a long, and sometimes noble Olympic tradition of protest…
1968: Vera Cavlaska
Vera was the gymnastic superstar of her day, and on course for another gold medal until the judges got together for a mysterious conflab, after which they elevated the Soviet silver medalist to joint-gold.
BEFORE we bring you “OH MY GOD. I JUST WITNESSED THE SINGLE GREATEST MOMENT IN HUMAN HISTORY”, a personal recollection of a trip down the Jubilee Line on the London Underground. The train stopped for too long at Willesden Green station. Two knobs sat on the platform’s seats by an open door began to point and laugh at fellow passengers. The lads swore loudly, offered insults aplenty and discussed how they might rush the carriage and batter us all. This went on for minutes. Then it happened. A man a few seats to my right had been reading. He put down his book. Put down his reading glasses. Stepped from the train. And before the lads could finish their address – “Look at this cun…” – had smacked them both in their heads. Hard. He then stepped back onto the carriage. The doors shut and we headed off.