Tabloids Category
The news as told by the UK’s tabloid press – The Sun, Daily Express, Daily Mail, Daily Mirror, Daily Star and News of the World.
Mummy Dearest
‘WHAT we knew to be true all along is now official.
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| Though getting on a bit, Ulrika still scrubs up well |
After an extensive poll, the Mirror can finally state without a single shred of doubt that Ulrika Jonsson is the best mum in the world.
Mother-of-two Ulrika has been voted Celebrity Mum Of The Year by fans of Quality Street chocolates.
I feel a bit humbled, says the Swedish-born supermum. I dont know what Cameron and Bo [her children] will have to say about it, but I will be reminding them of my new-found status.
And its a title she intends to hang onto, as the Mail reminds us that Ulrika is expecting a third child by a third different father.
This latest dads called Lance and, if that alone doesnt mark Ulrika out to be a woman of rare substance, news of who she beat to win her award will.
In second place was Kerry McFadden, jungle survivor and mother of two girls. And in third place was Jade Goody, mother to one kebab-reared boy.
But there is no time for Ulrika to rest on her laurels because already the contest for next years crown is underway.
Ulrika is a shoo-in for the title, but that doesnt stop Kate Winslet gamely talking about her kids to a US magazine, a conversation picked up by her champions at the Mail.
Winslet says that even with child-bearing hips, she was crushed to deliver her first baby, Mia, by Caesarean Section.
Theres this thing amongst women that if you can handle childbirth you can handle anything, says she. I never handled childbirth and I felt like in some way I couldnt enter the powerful womens club.
Happily, she is now a fully paid-up member of the celebrity pushers, since her second child, Joe, was born naturally.
Fourteen hours with no drugs at all, she trills, a major achievements for any actress, but then I had to have an epidural because I was so tired.
It was an incredible birth. It was really triumphant.
Were sure Joe shared that feeling of triumph as he breasted the finishing line between Kates legs, and were just as certain the judges for next years Celebrity Mum will be listening avidly to many more tales from the labour ward over the next 12 months.
And if they can do it without resorting to drugs, so much the braver of them.’
Satisfaction, Satisfaction, Satisfaction
‘DO you know what the best job in the world is? Correct! It is being a celebrity mum.
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| Laugh at estate agents and the world laughs with you |
But its a route not open to just anyone, so the survey into the best jobs in the world compiled by the City And Guilds training body left it out of its list.
Which means that the best job in the entire universe, according to the Sun, is…a care worker.
Care workers are just about the happiest workers anywhere, with 40% of those polled saying they enjoy doing what they do nine to five.
In second place, are hairdressers (32%), beating off the challenge of plumbers (32%), chefs (30%) and florists (20%).
But what about the least happy workers. Who do you think they are? Happily, they are estate agents, of which miserable group only 4% are happy in their day-to-day jobs.
This figure, however, shows considerable room for redevelopment, and with some careful planning, estate agents might yet climb the satisfaction ladder and gazump media workers, pharmacists and accountants, who all lie on a stagnant 4%.
It seems that the more hands-on jobs are the most rewarding, as Chris Humphries, director general at City & Guilds, tells the Mail.
As our research proves, its often people in vocational careers that are most contented and fulfilled…
A lot of employers are starting to realise that job satisfaction is more important than any other consideration, including money.
Although not to estate agents…’
A Mysterious Case
‘COAL mining does not make the list of the most satisfying careers to be employed in.
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| Arthur was surprised by Maggie’s ankles |
This is not a great surprise since finding a coal man is harder than finding a happy estate agent or a mother proud of being too posh to push.
But the Mirror has caught up with one of this rare breed and shines a Davy lamp at the goings-on of one Arthur Scargill, the man who took on Maggie Thatcher and lost.
And its bad news and good news. The good news is that Arthur is doing fine. The bad news is that hes got a sore head after being knocked out cold on the concourse of a Sheffield train station.
Arthur was boarding a train when he collided with a case being wheeled by a woman. The identity of his assailant is not revealed, but eyewitnesses recall a set of alluring ankles and squinty eyes.
Whats more, the fall accounted for Arthurs elbow, which became broken. Staff at the Northern General Hospital in Sheffield have worked tirelessly to fix the offending limb and Arthur is said to be on the mend.
He will soon have more power to his elbow, and be able to hoist a placard and a wield a pickaxe.
Although, sadly, not give birth, a job that is beyond even Arthurs considerable talents…’
Over The Top
‘WHEN you hear in the Mirror that ‘rail bosses have turned back the clock 100 years’, you jump for joy and click your heels.
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| ‘All aboard the 19:14 London to Sheffield!’ |
Back then, trains ran on time, rolling through miles of untarnished verdant countryside, where young scamps with barking dogs chased alongside waving at smiling class-divided passengers.
Hang 1976, it was 1904 that was the best year in the locomotive industry. And it’s coming back.
Sadly, what with this being the Mirror, things are not quite what they promise and it’s not 100 years but 90 years, back to 1914…and the outbreak of the Great War.
Those halcyon days of mustard gas and trenchfoot are already upon passengers of Midland Mainline service between London and Sheffield.
The company has taken the decision to replace the standard whistles blown by its station staff to herald the imminent departure of trains with the ACME Thunderer, the one used to send troops over the top in the First World War.
‘Once people hear this they should be making their way to the train rather sharply,’ says Tim Shoveller, the company’s operations director, seen brandishing what the Express calls the ‘Rolls-Royce of whistles’.
A 90-decibel blast from the whistle will set the passengers running, probably in all directions…in a mad panic to escape the worst the Red Baron can throw at them as he strafes the carriages with bullets.’
Abandon Hope…
‘TO some, the music of Cliff Richard brings a lump to the throat, followed instantly by the burning desire to rush to a bucket.
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| Hopeless cause |
To others, Cliff, Sir Cliff, is a bringer of hope. And he gave hope to the people of Birmingham when he turned up on Millennium eve and lit the city’s so-called Flame of Hope.
That night was one of wonder, as Brummies wondered why Sir Cliff and not some favoured son of the city like Ozzy Osbourne had lit the beacon and sang something more uplifting than the Millennium Prayer.
But this was the age of hope, and the flame that flickered atop the 33ft-high globe in the city centre was a sign that only better things lay ahead.
Whatever the hopes of the assembled masses, whether it be that the ball came loose from its moorings and chased Cliff out of town or that they would one day live in London and see the Millennium River of Fire and such epic scenes, hope sprang eternal.
But no more. Councillors have decided to turn off the flame, not because they sense that all hope is forlorn but because they cannot afford the £12,000-a-year gas bill to keep it alight. Oh, and it contributes to global warming.
Many are not best pleased. The Bishop of Birmingham, the Right Rev John Seantamu, says the beacon offered hope to all the people.
‘I don’t know how you can put a price on hope, but I suppose it is the council’s job to do that,’ he says.
‘It’s mildly pathetic to suggest that burning the Flame of Hope is damaging the global environment.’
But Birmingham’s head of leisure, Ian Ward, is sure that every little bit helps.
‘In a world where we are increasingly aware of greenhouse gasses, we need to consider whether burning £12,000 worth of gas every year is a responsible attitude to the environment.’
So the light has been extinguished, and there is now no fear of a hole developing in the ozone direly above Birmingham.
And if the council gets its way, nor will there ever be because plans are afoot, says the Mirror, to replace the polluting gas with a neat electric light.
What wattage this bulb will be will doubtless spark much debate and expulsion of hot air in the council chamber. But these are important matters, and we hope they are resolved soon.’
Shop ‘Til You Drop
‘DO you know why supermarkets put things you want so far apart from each other? Well, it’s for your own good.
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| The start of the Woolies-M&S marathon |
A study by Woolworths says that shoppers rack up 133 miles a year trudging round the shops. That, says the paper, is the equivalent of walking from London to Nottingham.
What’s more, the Sun reports that each trip to the shops burns off around 193 calories, which roughly equates to a hot cross bun or a pint of bitter.
And this is good news for shoppers who did not think that popping out of the house to buy groceries constituted a keep-fit regime.
The report also notes that most people are taking between 3,000 and 4,000 steps per day while shopping, which make up a sizeable chunk of the 10,000 ‘healthy ideal’.
And things can only get better if shoppers can stop driving cars and carry their shopping back home on the backs in the manner of mules.
They will then be fitter and healthier than ever and so able to live longer and shop more.
As they say on the 9:15 to Sheffield: ‘Pack up your veg in your old kit bag and slim, slim, slim!”
The Generation Game
‘NO prizes for guessing whom George Harrison would have wanted to play him in The Beatles reunion tour.
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| ‘Stop with your weeping already!’ |
With Oasis faltering and Gareth Gates not the force he once was, the Express opts for Dhani Harrison, George’s son – and the resemblance is ‘eerie’.
Just like dad, Dhani has a mop of black hair, pouting lips and a guitar. He also had his mouth closed as he took to the stage to mark his father’s induction into the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame.
But Dhani wants to be considered on his own artistic merits, and says he just wants to make music ‘without the whole My Dad thing hanging over me’.
But it’s not easy, and in this age of celebrity any link to a famous name is exploited to the full. And so as to not leave anyone in any doubt as to your lineage, best have the same name as your famous ancestor.
So the great-great-great-great grandson of John Constable, the revered English artist, is in the headlines.
Although only six, this new John Constable displays a rare genius with the brush and has just won the coveted second prize in the Young Art East Anglia Contest.
‘I am very pleased,’ says John. ‘I like the painting that I did and I hope I can do a better one some day.’
A look at his fine work, a watercolour of a white ship on a green and blue sea, suggests that more is to come.
Indeed, young John might even be ahead of the game since his father, also called John Constable, cannot confirm if the other John Constable produced any works of note at a similar age.
As such, John’s work-in-progress, a picture of a horse pulling a wagon though a river, is sure to propel him to the dizzy heights of the arts world – and perhaps even first place in next year’s contest.’
Warrington Or Bust
‘AS good as John Constable’s artwork is, and as weepingly melodic as Dhani Harrison’s guitar can be, the feeling is that through successive generations the muse is diluted.
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| A heroine of our age |
And so we wonder what disappointments lie ahead for the children of today’s stars. In short, what will Lily and Molly McFadden be like when they are of age?
They might sing, but can they ever hope to sing as well as their dad, the former Westlife singer Bryan?
And they might have breasts and be able to scream, moan and shout, but we fear they will only be shadows of their mother, the esteemed Kerry.
But not everyone even knows who Kerry is, at least not everyone in her home town of Warrington.
Plans to erect a large bronze statue in the town to commemorate Kerry’s adventures in the jungle have been scrapped because, as a council spokesman tells the Star, ‘a lot of people have never heard of Kerry McFadden’.
So! There are still Japanese soldiers manning Pacific islands who believe the war never ended, but their ignorance should not mean the rest of us have to suffer.
What makes it worse is that, instead of a giant bust of Kerry, the townsfolk of Warrington will have to make do with a statue of that old music-hall comic George Formby.
This cannot be right, and Kerry’s mum is aghast. ‘There are a lot of old fuddy duddies in this town,’ says she. ‘But on the other hand there are thousands of kids in the town who idolise Kerry and don’t have a clue who George Formby is.
‘Everyone knows where Kerry is from and she’s proud to be an ambassador for Warrington.’
And Molly and Lily must be rightly proud, if not a little daunted, to have her as their mum. But they will do their best to emulate her achievements.
So look out for their rise to prominence in years to come as the respective ambassadors of Stapleton Tern and Westby With Plumpton.’
Detour Operator
‘ONE of the great hidden benefits of travelling by budget airline is the element of surprise.
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| Luton to Glasgow via Nice |
Sure, you have to pay for your own food and toilet roll is sold by the single sheet, but what other means of transport would have taken in Jersey on a trip form Edinburgh to Nottingham – at no extra charge?
For those of you without a grasp of the nation’s geography, Edinburgh is in Scotland and far to the north of Jersey, which lies off England’s south coast. Nottingham is somewhere between the two.
You do not have to go via Jersey to get to Nottingham but, as we say, budget airlines like to enliven a boring trip and so it was that flight WW5198 took passengers of an unscheduled tour.
The Mail even draws a map of the journey, and hears how the bmibaby jet ‘hijacked’ passengers who did not want to go to the island.
‘It wouldn’t have mattered what we’d done,’ says passenger Helen Coates, who was part of a stand-up protest onboard. ‘It seemed bmibaby would have just hijacked us… We were at their mercy.’
So Jersey it was, on a mission to airlift 46 passengers to safety who had been stuck on the island since their own budget plane had malfunctioned.
All passengers have been offered compensation for their suffering, although the coupons are only redeemable in Kabul – which is fine for those on the regular Cardiff to Manchester service, but not so good for the others…’
Sign Of The Times
”PERSONAL hopes that got sidelined by the daily grind of life get their chance now… Luck and fun are linked to a face in a picture… Luck wears the number 11 on a T-shirt.’
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| Mystic Meg or Evil Sedna? |
And so goes the daily ritual of looking at the Sun and what Mystic Meg’s road map for the day advises for and against.
But things are not as they usually are. Six billion miles from Earth a tenth plant is playing havoc with our mystic compass.
Meg is on the case and has been despatched to the outer reaches of the cosmos to find out what in the blue blazes is going on.
Meg has looked at the label and found that the new planet is called Sedna, a name it shares with an Inuit goddess.
It is also up to 1,200 miles in diameter, takes so long to orbit the sun that one Sedna year lasts 10,500 of ours, is almost as red as Mars and has temperatures that never rise above -240C.
Those are the facts, but Meg is just as interested in how Sedna will influence our fortunes.
‘First of all, the timing of the announcement suggests that anything is possible for mankind,’ says Meg.
And Meg means anything, pointing to the freakish performance of England’s cricketers in the West Indies (they won) and Manchester United’s defeat to Manchester City.
Such is the power it exerts over sport, the new planet should, perhaps, be renamed Fallon, after the miraculous jockey who has won – and lost – many races against the odds.
But things get stranger still in the Mirror, where Jonathan Cainer says that Sedna suggests the birth of an entire ‘new society’.
‘Forget the religious and political ideals that you have grown up with,’ says he. ‘A global ‘shift’ of perspective’ is about to occur.’
The man with the starry gaze says that Sedna heralds a new era of human cloning, an end to fears of global warming, a brand-new ‘world religion’ and triumph for Let It Flow in the 4:15 at Cheltenham.
It’s all just so tremendously exciting, and we hope, as the Express reports, Sedna proves to be true planet and not a lump of frozen rock.
But we’ll only know for sure at about 4:18…’
For Crying Out Loud
‘STAYING with the sporting theme, Kate Winslet has given her man the equivalent of the football chairman’s vote of confidence in his manager.
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| ‘Have you met my second husband?’ |
The Mail has seen a tape of an interview given by the Titanic star a few weeks after the birth of her daughter, and is aghast at what is learns.
‘I had a baby,’ says Winslet in interview with a US satellite TV channel. ‘His father is Sam Mendes.
‘He is a wonderful… I will start crying in a minute because I’m so emotional because we just had a baby.’
Gulp! We’re fighting back the tears ourselves. And with no little risk of electrocution, we read on through the waterfall.
‘Excuse me. I’m very, very happy right now. Oh God, have you got any gin. He is a wonderful, wonderful man.’
The Express hears the same interview, but the Mail remembers when Winslet once behaved in a similar fashion a couple of years back and declared her massive and bounteous love for her then husband, Jamie Threapleton.
The Express says her more recent performance was ‘worthy of an Oscar’, suggesting that Winslet is not being entirely herself.
This is a slight on her character, although rumours abound that Mendes’ performances have not be so good of late and it might be time for him to make way for a new broom.’
Statue Of Limitations
‘JONATHAN Cainer is right. Things are changing. A new regime is indeed on the way.
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| PC or ‘armless fun? |
In times past, the spare plinth at one corner of Trafalgar Square would not have been a problem to fill. There was no shortage of victorious generals and sea dogs to commemorate in marble and bird muck.
Hell! We were even prepared to stick the Queen Mother (a woman!) on the plinth – and that’s not a papier mache statue of her but the real thing, albeit stuck in a glass jar full of gin to keep the pigeons at bay and the skin soft and supple.
But it was not to be because what the Tory culture spokesman Julie Kirkbridge calls the ‘politically correct lobby’ got their way.
So instead of a figure from history and endeavour, Trafalgar Square will be occupied – at last for the next 15 months – by Marc Quinn’s statue of his disabled, heavily pregnant friend Alison Lapper.
While not everyone is happy at the choice, Bert Massie, chairman of the Disability Rights Commission, tells the Mail that he is delighted.
‘Congratulations to Marc,’ he says, ‘for realising that disabled bodies have a power and beauty rarely recognised in an age where youth and ‘perfection’ are idolised.’
We can only agree, and marvel at Quinn’s foresight and wonder where on earth he got the inspiration for his work.
We wonder what Lord Nelson, that other Trafalgar Square special needs case, would have made of it all…’
Blank Verse
‘SO good is Jordan at reciting the alphabet that she can do it twice on the bounce.
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| ‘Can I have a PP please, Bob?’ |
Shes the Carol Vorderman of letters is Jordan, able to go to an FF, a GG or a PP as quick as our Carol can get to six thirteens.
It would never be long before the ubiquitous mod-el joined up a few letters to form words and, hey, even a sentence or two.
But we are still waiting for that happy day, because the Mirror, which attended the launch of Jordans inflate-and-tell autobiography, notices that her book contains absolutely nothing.
Having been handed a copy of her tome, it proved too weighty even for a woman used to carrying around two bowling balls on her chest and was dropped to the floor.
The pages unfurled to reveal that there was nothing in between the covers. The wrapping, glitzy and suggesting much, masked a product lacking in substance.
It is indeed a clever marketing ploy, fiendish even, to produce a book that is every inch in tune with its subject matter.
But words can be useful and, for those Sun readers who want to give them a go, Andrew Motion has written a poem we can all learn to recite off by heart.
Its in honour of Englands rugby hero Jonny Wilkinson, and it goes like this. Take it away, Motion:
O Jonny the power of your boot
And the accurate heart-stopping route
Of your goal as it ghosts
Through Australian posts
Is a triumph we gladly salute.
It is clearly a work of no small genius, and the reigning Poet Laureate is sure to hang onto his crown for a while yet.
But the competition among poets is fierce, and these days you cannot turn a corner for fear of bumping into one of this wordy breed.
So in the spirit of competition, heres another one, and this ones for you Jordan:
O Jordan you are no divine
Like a glass of sweet German wine
Youre our number one
Like a blue Page 3 nun
A woman way ahead of her time.’
On The Abbey Road
‘REMEMBER the fifth Beatle. No, not Pete Best. And no, not George Best. Not any Bests at all, but Paul Cole.
| ‘Last one to the optician’s a hippy’ |
Cole has finally admitted that it was he who collaborated on the Fab Fours hit album Abbey Road.
I saw the album and I recognised myself straight away, says American Cole, now 92. I had a new sports jacket on and Id just bought new shell-rimmed glasses.
It was a look that was set to make The Beatles a global phenomenon. But they could so easily have missed it.
I said to my children, Get a magnifying glass and youll see me.
We are not fruits of Coles loins from his time on the road with the band, but we did take up an eyeglass (shell-rimmed, natch) and can confirm that the man standing by the police van on the albums cover is indeed wearing a sports jacket.
While the Fab Four stride across the zebra crossing, Cole looks on, happy to be in the background and let others hog the limelight, like Bill Wyman in tweed ’
Short Shrift
‘THESE are hard times indeed. And we read with interest the Mirrors story of one Adam Smith.
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| Clare decided it was best to wade in after the event |
The father of classical economics, revealed to be just 14-years-old, found himself in deep water when a fight broke out at his school.
FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! chanted the baying crowd that soon assembled around the two scrapping scamps.
And in that number was young Adam. He knew what to do. His dad, Mark, had told him that if he sees a fight he should not get involved.
So he did nothing, adopting the position of one Clare Short and, while not approving, nonetheless standing his ground and observing from a privileged vantage point.
But then a shock as headmistress Ingrid Masters of Winton Boys School, Bournemouth, strode forwards and pulled the fighters apart.
She was appalled at the lapse in what she calls high standards of behaviour and gave the lads a detention. And for good measure, she gave one to Adam too.
Adam is not best pleased, and denies any wrongdoing. But it is too late. The detention stands and Adam must pay.
Which is a lesson to all of us in these times: doing nothing gets you nowhere. And being seen to do nothing gets you even less far – although you may well one day get to be an MP.’
Vicky Gambles On Ash
‘ANOTHER cheery week starts in Walford with news of a suicide. Jills alcoholic, abusive (of course) father killed himself which, lets face it, is probably preferable to returning to Albert Square again.
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| Ash gets flicked |
Ian was with her when she heard the news and was actually very sympathetic. Well if anyone knows about pain and suffering, its Ian.
There was more bad news this week when the Slaters were told that Charlie had been given another two weeks on his sentence for smashing up his cell.
The family had arranged a surprise party for him in the Queen Vic and, sensibly, Charlie decided another two weeks in prison would be more enjoyable.
Nana Moon returned from her Club 80-130 Eastbourne holiday with a toyboy. Meet Wilfred, she announced to the Vic. Were getting married. Alfie was less than keen on the idea. You only met im two days ago, he ranted. You dont know anyfink about im.
She asnt got any money you know, he told Wilfred. Thats all right, replied the dapper Wilfred, we can live on a diet of love. Which is an image best not dwelled on when the couple has a combined age of 170.
EastEnders scriptwriters seem to have decided that the best way to come up with new couples is to put the entire casts names into a hat and pull two out at random. Its the only explanation that makes sense for the pairing up of Natalie and Paul, not to mention Ash and Vicki.
Paul and Natalie have even decided to move in together. Well, they have been together for more than a fortnight now. Janine is doing her best to split them up. Its just your guilty conscience, she hissed at Paul. Marrying his ex wife wont make up for what you did.
Paul, concerned at what the Black Widow could be capable of, has given a lawyer a letter detailing his and Janines part in Barrys death. If anything happens to me, youre for the igh jump, he told her.
Readers of tabloids will know already that Janine is set to get her comeuppance soon when shes ironically framed for a murder that she didnt commit. For those who havent seen the stories, Ill save the surprise. Lets just say theres going to be one less ginger, bug-eyed chip-fryer in Walford soon.
Comedy couple number two have progressed into the bedroom much to the disgust of Sharon and 16 million viewers. Vicki had decided to get her own back on Sharon and Dennis by shocking them as much as their illicit relationship had shocked her.
Knowing that her brother and sister were due back that day, Vicki set out to seduce Ash, which just goes to prove how desperate and confused she must be. Fancy a game of strip poker? she asked him, while pulling up her top.
As a compulsive gambler, Ash has never been one to make the wise decision and he agreed. Sharon and Dennis came home to find the pair in Sharons bed, which is exactly as Vicki had planned it.
Someone should open a book on the next maverick pairing: my moneys on Wellard and Gus.’
Boobie Trap
‘WHEN Jordan was considering having one of her many breast enlargement operations, she enlisted the Suns millions of readers to help her make up her mind.
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| Inflate to desired size |
Should she or should she not commandeer yet more of the worlds fast-dwindling silicone supply to boost her chest size from a mere KK to a MM.
No, came back the response loud and clear from the jury advice which the model promptly ignored as she went under the surgeons knife again.
We mention this only because this morning the Sun asks its readers once again for their verdict on Jordans fellow glamour model Jerri Byrnes new DD boobs.
And we confidently predict that once again the men and women of Britain will come down firmly on the side of le look naturel.
Not that it will make any difference in this case either, because Jerri has already made her proverbial bed and had the op.
If there was any doubt whether the new boobs would get a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down, the Sun has no doubt where it stands on this issue.
Do Jerris extraordinary new breasts look like Gods gift to mankind or a £4,000 sili-con? it asks.
They look like a couple of upturned pudding bowls and they are so far apart it seems like they have had a row.
But 21-year-old Jerri, who decided to have the operation after a holiday in the South of France with Jordan, is delighted with the results.
Her boobs feel so natural, like normal breasts, she said. Theyre not hard at all and theyre lovely and round and shes got lots of sensitivity too.
When I saw photos of us together, I thought: Oh God, Im just a pair of walking nipples next to her! Without a bra on your boobs fall naturally but I wanted that all over plump look.
Its not a look that finds favour with the Suns jury of boob experts and enthusiasts.
Jerri should have saved her swag and let them sag, says Sun columnist Dominic Mohan.
Jerri looked lovely before and I cant imagine why she decided to have the operation, opines Page 3 snapper Alan Strutt.
And Erica Davies, the papers fashion editor, warns that a fake chest attracts the wrong sort of man the kind that frequents lap dancing clubs.
Or reads the Sun…’
Starsky & Crutch
‘SO what is the kind of man that frequents lap dancing clubs? The kind of man, it seems, who wants to celebrate after attending a premiere of their new movie.
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| A bare huggy |
In fact, more specifically the kind of man who is called Ben Stiller or Owen Wilson or even Steve Coogan.
The Star says Coogan led the two leads in the new Starsky & Hutch movie on a tour of Londons nightspots after last nights premiere.
And that meant dinner at Nobu, more drinks and a dance at Boujis and then two hours enjoying Starkers & Hutch action in Sophisticats.
They all enjoyed lap dances, the Stars spy reports, and seemed to be having a great time. I heard one of the guys say they should go back.
After Sophisticats, it was off to bed for our intrepid threesome for a good nights sleep followed by a light breakfast and a hard morning ogling Jerris new breasts in the Sun.’
Spy Game
‘STARSKY & Hutch might have been a great recruiting tool for the US police force, but we suspect that many who joined were disappointed to discover that real life was rather different from the show.
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| The CIA needs you |
On the positive side, there would have been relief that there wasnt a standard issue cardigan that detectives were supposed to wear.
But on the negative side, there was also a whole lot less careering round the city in a Ford Torino, sliding over the roof of cars and having shoot-outs with bad guys.
One suspects that CIA recruits will be similarly disappointed to find that life as a spy is not as it appears in the ABC show, Alias.
But the CIA are doing a good job in blurring the line between real life and make-believe by using the shows star Jennifer Garner to help recruit new agents.
The actress, who plays all-action spy Sydney Bristow on TV, tells people who log onto the CIA website that the agency is looking for people with wide-ranging talents, integrity, common sense, patriotism and courage who want to make a difference in the world.
Failing that, however, theyll take the same gung-ho cowboys – and men who frequent lap dancing clubs – that theyve been taking for years.’
Refugee Whizz
‘IF you have noticed that the Express is unusually shy this morning about bashing immigrants, there is a reason – but you’ll have to read a different paper to discover it.
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| Why the long face, Mr Moxon? |
It turns out that Steve Moxon, the paper’s champion and the civil servant who revealed that thousands of East Europeans were being let into Britain without the proper checks, is not quite the unimpeachable witness the paper thought he was.
The Mail reveals that the aforementioned Mr Moxon sent a series of anti-Muslim e-mails to the BBC Panorama programme, in one of which he argued that Osama Bin Laden would ‘eventually have to be silenced by nuclear weapons’.
‘While the civil servant claimed he ‘could not recall’ precisely what he wrote,’ the paper says, ‘he did not deny suggesting that fundamentalists should be ‘nuked’.’
Of course, this revelation provides the Mail with something of a problem – it hates immigration almost as much as it hates the Express, which it hates almost as much as the Labour party.
But even it struggles with the notion of dropping nuclear bombs willy-nilly on Saudi Arabia and other areas of the Middle East and North Africa.
Accordingly, the paper decides the revelations about Mr Moxon are examples of Labour’s ‘black propaganda’, suggesting that the party is seizing on them to cast doubt on his motives for revealing the immigration anomaly.
However, the Express is having none of it, opting not even to let its readers know that their champion isn’t exactly the white knight he had been presented as.
Instead, it castigates Tony Blair for not meeting the man whose ‘brave and important’ disclosures revealed the immigration control scandal in Sheffield.
‘You might think that a government that came to power preaching openness and transparency would applaud a man who reveals malfunction and dishonesty in the state system,’ it says.
‘You might think a whistleblower deserves a conversation and a handshake.’
You might think that Express readers deserve to know the truth about Mr Moxon.
You might also think that Express readers deserve something better than a daily diet of xenophobic bile.
Apparently, you’d be wrong.’
Little At Large
‘LAUREL and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, Morecambe and Wise, Cheech and Chong, Cannon and Ball, Hale and Pace, Little and Large…
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| The Hale and Pace of yesteryear |
The list of great comedy duos is a long and distinguished one, but even the best chuckle merchants can fall on hard times.
Some comedy is timeless – and we have no doubt that Hale and Pace are still raising the same laughs as they did in their heyday – but other comedy ages.
And it is with great sadness that we read in the Sun that Syd Little, one half of the Little and Large act, has had to resort to working as a painter and decorator to make ends meet.
The 61-year-old, the paper reminds us, used to play to audiences of ten million in his time (admittedly at a time when there were only two channels and the other one didn’t work), but this week he was snapped sprucing up a factory in Lancashire.
‘He’s very chirpy,’ a worker said, ‘and just gets on with the job.’
As ever, the consummate professional…’
Lap Of Luxury
‘ONE would have thought that all the papers would have been queuing up to praise the National Health Service for helping a mental health patient regain her independence and embark on a new and lucrative career.
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| Posed by supermodel |
But it seems that that very much depends on the type of career – and becoming a pole dancer at Spearmint Rhino is not exactly what they had in mind.
The Mail (which bizarrely illustrates the story with a picture of a scantily-clad ‘dancer at Spearmint Rhino’, only to admit in the same breath that the picture is ‘posed by model’) can’t quite decide why it should be outraged, but outraged it is.
‘National Sex Service,’ it mutters, quoting one policeman’s description of the lap dancing establishment in which the unnamed patient works as ‘one of the biggest brothels in London’.
Worse, we hear that Spearmint Rhinos is frequented by footballers and celebrities, including former Westlife singer Bryan McPadding and Blackburn Rovers’ Dwight Yorke.
Even the Star, which one would imagine would applaud any move to boost the number of lap-dancers in the country, labels it a ‘sick idea’.
‘Will the next Secretary of State for Health be…Peter Stringfellow?’
It would certainly make the old TV series Angels a lot more interesting…’
Out Of Vogue
‘THIS might come as news to anyone who saw her flashing her knickers at photographers at the weekend, but big-chested model Kate Price has apparently ditched her Jordan persona for good.
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| ‘I’m getting m-m-m-married in the m-m-m-morning…’ |
Love for pint-sized popster Peter Andre, not to mention a keen eye for a new avenue of self-promotion, means that in future Kate will keep her Jordans under wraps.
And, as if to prove that she really has changed, the Star (which publishes a nostalgic shot of her FFs on its Page 3) says she ‘is about to pull off the ultimate coup by posing for upmarket style mag Vogue’.
‘What’s more,’ it says, with all the pride of a father seeing his daughter being crowned Miss Cleethorpes, ‘the hot shots of our girl are to be taken by superstar photographer Mario Testino.’
Realising that its readers’ knowledge of the photographic world probably doesn’t extend much beyond sending the odd Polaroid of the missus to Readers’ Wives, the Star explains that Testino is the man whose images of Princess Diana and Kate Moss have established him as THE photographer to the stars.
‘Everything’s changed for Kate since she ditched her Jordan persona,’ a pal says. ‘And the fact that she’s going to be in Vogue shows how far she’s come.’
As if to emphasise the break with her past, the Star also has news that Gareth Gates, one time beau of Miss Price, is to wed.
He may not even be 20, but the Pop Idol runner-up can recognise a career hurtling towards oblivion and is determined to cash in while he still can.
With that in mind, the paper says he went down on bended knee to pop the question to 27-year-old dancer Suzanne Mole, his girlfriend for the past year.
Half an hour later and with cramp beginning to set in, the words ‘Will you marry me?’ were finally out of his mouth…and Suzanne ‘broke the hearts of millions of female fans’ by saying, ‘Yes’.
A pal says the couple are hoping to get married later this year (in other words, just before the last rites are said over Gareth’s career) with speech therapist Michael Hay as Gareth’s best man.
‘Michael will be on hand to help Gareth when he says his vows,’ the pal says.
As a back-up plan, Gareth has arranged for Roger De Courcey to leave Nookie Bear at home for the day and use his amazing powers of ventriloquism to help Gareth mime, ‘I do’.’
"Here, Range Rover"
‘BUYING a second-hand car is a dangerous game – there are many unscrupulous dealers out there who are happy to sell a dog of a motor to an unsuspecting purchaser.
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| Live pictures from Asda car park in Dudley |
But DJ Lisa Lashes little suspected what she was getting when she bought a second-hand Range Rover…from Stan Collymore.
‘YUK!’ screams the headline in the Mirror, as it goes on to report that Lisa hasn’t used the car since Collymore admitted that he had used it in his ‘dogging’ expeditions.
‘Lisa was really chuffed with the car,’ a friend tells the paper, ‘but could not believe her eyes when she saw it splashed all over the papers.’
Two weeks ago, Collymore admitted that he used to indulge in a practice called ‘dogging’ – having sex with strangers or watching strangers having sex – in car parks across the Midlands.
From dogs to racoons, and the Sun has news that the 2ft-long creatures are succeeding where Adolf Hitler failed and overrunning Europe.
Top Nazi Herman Goering had the US mammals introduced into German woods in 1934 to ‘enrich the Reich’s fauna’, but numbers have since soared and the animals are now looking for a bit of ‘lebensraum’.
The Sun says the racoons have already marched through Belgium, the Netherlands and Denmark ‘in a furry blitzkrieg’ and are now massing on the other side of the English Channel.
‘Arm yourselves, and be ye men of valour, and be in readiness for the conflict; for it is better for us to perish in battle than to look upon the outrage of our nation and our altar…”
New Massage
‘SHARON Dyson is probably feeling a bit sheepish this morning after accidentally sending an e-mail intended for boyfriend Alex Hewson to 30 of his mates.
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| ‘Whoops! It looks like I might have used the drain cleaner by mistake’ |
Needless to say, the mates forwarded it on to their mates and very soon the newspapers had got hold of it.
Now, says the Express, a momentary lapse of concentration could cost the PR girl her job, not only because the e-mail revealed ’embarrassing sexual confessions’ but also because it was disparaging about some of her company’s clients.
However, a look over the text of the e-mail (sent while on a work trip to Australia) in the Mail reveals little in the way of embarrassing sexual confession, except in reference to apparent phone sex conversations, and even less in the way of abuse of her clients.
What is does reveal, however, is a shocking disregard for the most basic rules of grammar, in particular punctuation.
That’s surely far more embarrassing than whatever it is she wanted to do to her boyfriend with a bottle of massage oil…’
