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.
Doggy Styled
‘SUCH as Poshs new hair extensions.
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| Hair by Rex |
Dont give me hair like that DOG Jordan! reads the Suns front page, upon the news of POSHS NEW OUTBURST.
POSH GETS 16 INCHES, screams page 4, under a banner that warns: WATCH OUT JORDAN, VICTORIAS HAD A BIG HAIR DAY.
Trouble started when Mrs Beckham spent £1,300 on highlights and extensions at the same North London salon used by the 25-year-old glamour model.
A strange choice, you might think, and one that puts salon boss Angelo Georghiou in a somewhat invidious position. But he remained calm under pressure.
We know exactly what Jordans hair is like as we style hers as well, he said diplomatically.
But for how much longer?’
Order Of The Boot
‘THE FOOTBALL authorities are looking into arrangements for a mid-season break, on the grounds that players are supposedly exhausted at the end of a long English season, and are thus unable to win international tournaments in the summer.
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| Warming the boots for Romeo |
But there is another underlying theme too. Modern players just dont like playing in the winter.
Under-soil heating has consigned scenes of snow-covered pitches, orange balls and plimsolls to the dustbin of history.
All the same, teams now make formal complaints when the conditions dont suit them. And its not just football: a Scottish rugby team recently refused to play at all because it was too cold.
Now Manchester United have taken things a step further. Not only is the home dug-out heated, but United players now enjoy a boot-warming service.
A lot of the players from overseas were complaining that the boots werent comfortable when they put them on because they were too cold, an insider tells the Sun.
The solution? Electric pegs costing thousands of pounds. Oh, and a full-time attendant to ensure that boots fit correctly.
Of course, having Fergie kick a hot boot at your face might be even more traumatic than a cold one, but thats a risk the players seem prepared to take.
One question remains, though. Where does Jordan fit into this story?
The answer is on page 8 The Sun says. What next for the pampered millionaires, asks the paper: Mink-lined shorts? Or Jordan to peel their oranges at half-time?
Or, more likely in these diet-conscious times, their bananas.’
Moment Of Truth
‘POSHS BOOBS: BRITAIN DECIDES. Yes, indeed. For although the Star put its weight behind Jordans hefty claim yesterday, it seems that the issue of Victoria Beckhams alleged breast enhancement is still not settled.
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| Posh is making Day-vid look like a right tit |
Katie Prices front-page story about how Posh whipped them out in a Chinese restaurant certainly convinced us. But others werent so sure, and the matter was taken up by the highest forum in the land GMTV.
Soon a huge debate some would say mass was underway on radio stations across the nation.
Posh, meanwhile, has declined to comment, although she is said to be spitting feathers. She has issued denials in the past, though, and even admitted that my nipples arent as pert as they were before having Brooklyn.
This isnt enough to satisfy the Star, however. And if Posh wont talk, then it must be left to the people with the help of your bra-bursting, ego-pricking Daily Star.
The phone lines are open, the die is cast. We know that, as Anorak readers, you will use your vote with care.’
Filth On The Box
‘ONE reality TV show that we trust will be Jordan-free is Channel 4s latest offering.
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| ‘It’s pants’ |
Filming starts this week on Too Posh to Wash, a programme described by the Star with typical delicacy as being based on viewers dirty underpants.
It is a spin-off and presumably a hot-wash too from How Clean is Your House? and will be fronted once more by Kim Woodburn and Aggie McKenzie.
Ads were placed to recruit dirty people, and viewers were encouraged to nominate people with hygiene problems, eg, those who recycle their underwear on a regular basis.
Or, presumably, those unenlightened types who eschew recycling altogether, and literally stick to one pair.
The paper says that the show has already been labelled a disgrace, but producer Steph Harris side-stepped the accusations by explaining that it isnt reality TV at all. She prefers to call it a presenter-led documentary.
Media Watch chairman John Beyer predictably criticised the idea, but for once the words of his heroine Mary Whitehouse ring true.
Last night we sat down to watch television as a family, she famously told a rally of right-minded folk back in the 1960s. It was the filthiest programme I have seen in a very long time.
She must be spinning in her grave.’
Life’s A Beach
‘IF THE dirty-underpants show gets the go-ahead, then Kim and Aggies efforts will at least provide some relief for the police force.
Not that we are suggesting that the boys in blue are dirty and smelly, you understand. Its just that they already have their work cut out dealing with other peoples filth.
4 COP CARS IN DOG POO QUIZ, announces the Sun intriguingly – but its not talking about a new TV game show.
The story relates to an incident at Instow in Devon, when police were called to sort out a row over a small turd on a beach.
The suspect was Molly, a Jack Russell belonging to Camilla Sharpe. Sharpe was confronted by a dog warden, whereupon she explained that she hadnt realised what her dog her done and offered to pick it up.
This wasnt good enough for the warden, who told her to sign a form admitting that her dog had fouled the sand.
Soon the police were on their way, and immediately sided with the jack-booted warden, who had by now staked out the crime scene with bamboo. Mrs Sharpe was forced to sign the form, and received an on-the-spot fine of £50.
It was such a tiny poo, she told the Daily Mail. I couldnt believe the over-reaction.
Instead of complaining, we at Anorak suggest that Mrs Sharpe reflects upon her actions, and considers herself lucky that she is not doing this reflection in a prison cell.’
Family Affairs
‘ITS Valentines Day in Albert Square, and this being Eastenders, producers decided to mark it by getting a brother and sister to end up in bed together. Admittedly, Sharon and Dennis are siblings in name only but, even so, theres something slightly grubby about seeing two people who call the same person dad in bed together.
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| Ronnie |
And in another stomach-churning storyline, Sonia is supposed to be undergoing some sort of transformation from potato woman to sexual goddess. Youre stunning, Vicky told her when she found Sonia weeping on the stairs. Stunning in the sense that anyone who looks at her cant move or speak for several minutes, one can only assume.
Sonia had decided that she couldnt go to the Valentines Ball with Martin as she was too fat and ugly so Vicky promised to give her a makeover. A makeover into what? A fat ugly girl in bad make up and a too tight dress? Because thats exactly what she looked like.
Martin seemed happy enough though: I suppose a couple of years in prison is bound to make a man a lot less fussy in the lady department. Dot is less impressed with the New Look Sonia. Dont change yourself for a man Sonia, she warned her. Theyre never worth it.
Dot shouldnt worry about Sonia wasting her money on new clothes – how many size 20 boob tubes are there out there to buy?
Elsewhere in The Square, Ronnie has come out of his coma (it did take me several episodes to realise this, given his less than spectacular acting skills). Ronnie was dumb struck (the one acting expression he can actually do) on hearing the news that Tariq is his secret half brother and the only chance hes got for a new kidney.
Weve got to keep Tariq sweet til after the operation, Adi told his brothers, then after that we never have to see him again. Adi looks set to get his wish a lot sooner than that though as Tariq overheard every word and has disappeared out of the hospital.
With two members of the Ferreira family now missing and one in critical condition in hospital, things are finally looking up in Eastenders.
Theres more good news in store too as Laura Beale is set to get killed off. The ginger hamster is to be another victim of Janine. Butcher by name, butcher by nature .’
Jordan Bust-Up
‘HOLD the front Page! And hold it tight, because it weighs a ton!!
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| Luckily for Jordan, the scars soon faded |
Yes, Jordans on the front of the Star again, for the 1,578th day running. And when we say front, we mean it.
For not only are the famous 32FF Zeppelins on display, but she is demonstrating the other kind of front that has brought her fame and fortune: the sheer brass neck that enables her to use the national press as a daily bulletin board for her not-so-private feud with Victoria Beckham.
Yesterday, Anorak brought you news of how Posh was furious at being snubbed by the organisers of a bash for the top 200 British female icons.
This probably brought a smile to Katies face, but she would not be so stupid as to attack her on such disadvantageous terrain.
Instead, she has decided to stick to familiar territory, as the Stars headline makes clear.
JORDAN: POSHS BOOBS ARE FAKE, it announces. Adding: I know… Ive seen em out.
The exclusive story reveals how the two icons compared assets in the toilet of a Chinese restaurant (as you do), and Katie says that Posh has had them done the American way the stuck-on look.
We are prepared to take her word for it. But Victorias recent trip to a cut-price Spanish beach proves that even if she is stuck-on, shes certainly not stuck-up.
Dont bother telling Jordan that, though. Shes a conniving little cow, said the pneumatic model with a hiss which appeared to come from an area just below her chin.’
Beauty And Brains
‘BEAUTY and brains is a powerful combination just ask the ladies of Cambridge University.
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| The new Cambridge entry exam was an egalitarian triumph |
Or, if you dont live in Cambridge, you can save time and read todays Daily Express.
Pose graduates, chuckles the headline, above a picture of a dozen lovely ladies simpering in boats on the river Cam.
A week after female students at Cambridge University raised eyebrows by forming a pole dancing troupe, they have hit on a pretty clever way to raise money for charity, reports the paper, before going on to explain that for the second year in a row they are stepping onto the catwalk for a fashion show.
We hate to be picky about this, but how exactly does one hit on a pretty clever idea if someone at your own university has already hit upon it a year earlier?
And if the idea isnt a new one, and no-one is accusing the Oxford girls of having implants, what is it doing in the news pages?’
Clumsy Colin
‘COLIN Farrell is in a wheelchair after breaking his ankle and arm in an accident.
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| A man’s man |
The Mirror prints a picture of the hapless actor as a Thai lady pushes him through the airport at Krabi, a small resort south of Bangkok, where he had been filming his new movie, Alexander the Great.
After an evening of carousing, the star fell downstairs at his hotel and screamed in agony.
No-one knows what caused the fall, but our resident psychologist believes it could have been a sudden shock seeing a mouse appear, for instance.
Or even a babys face…’
Costa Little
‘OUT of sight, out of mind. Thats what they say. But then again, theres always an exception that proves the rule, and the exception is, of course, the national soap opera that is PoshnBecks.
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| Day-vid was sure he’d buried Posh somewhere – but where? |
Anyone who thought that the pairs move to Spain would see their viewing figures go the same way as Eldorado (ask your mother) could not have been more wrong.
Today both the Sun and the Mirror devote large amounts of space to the news that the pair took their kids to the seaside.
Not just any old seaside, mind you. This was the Fuengirola on the Costa del Sol popular with the British hoi poloi, according to the papers, and a far cry from the kind of exclusive hot-spots they are supposed to haunt.
David and Posh rough it on litter-strewn beach says the Mirror. No frills for family trip to Costa beach, agrees the Sun. No offence to any of their readers who might be in the habit of visiting, it goes without saying.
Both papers report that the pair had a great time, thrilled the locals, etc. But the Sun, as ever, supplies that extra piece of information that adds value to the story.
Wife Posh took OFF her shoes to stroll on the sand, it reports. But Becks kept his trainers ON and got too close to the sea with ponytailed Romeo, 18 months.
But before you get worried, that means that he got too close to the sea for the safety of his pristine shoes. And the ponytailed Romeo was his infant son.’
Neither Use Nor Ornament?
‘VICTORIA BECKHAM is in the news not once, but twice today. Normally this would please her, as she reads the papers that have been flown in and ironed for her perusal.
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| Less talented than Fergie |
She will be less pleased by the second story, though.
The Star (which also covers the seaside trip) says that the stroppy pop diva is furious that she hasnt been invited to a Buckingham Palace bash to honour Britains most successful women.
Kate Moss, Cherie Blair, Judi Dench, Twiggy and Heather Mills will be there, but not the high-profile wife of Englands football captain as the Star helpfully describes her, for the benefit of anyone readers who have already forgotten who she is after reading the aforesaid seaside story.
Pals say that although Posh has kept silent she has had her pride dented by the royal snub, reports Chris Pragnall.
Meanwhile palace insiders tell the intrepid reporter that its all down to the Queens secretary Samantha Cohen, who drew up the guest list.
Asked why Posh didnt make the list of 200, the Australian arbiter was defiant.
On what grounds would she be going? she riposted. Being rich is not enough. These are people who are outstanding in their field or have been icons who have made a contribution in some way.’
And the Queen will be there because she is appointed by God.’
Masonic Conspiracy
‘ONE can understand why a foolish young chancer might want to impersonate a footballer. The bar bills might be expensive, but if theres a roasting in the offing, he might consider it worth the expense.
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| Mason couldn’t score in a Conservative club |
The case of Bournemouth pensioner Bob Mason is harder to fathom. Bob wisely decided not to try and pass himself as David Beckham or Thierry Henry, opting instead for his namesake Bobby Mason, who won FA Cup medals with Wolves in the 1950s.
And rather than go out on the pull in glamorous West End hotspots, he settled for pats on the back and a few free drinks from admiring fellow members of his local Conservative club.
But the Star reports that Bob was unmasked when he handed over a charity cheque while posing as his old hero.
The real Bobby was shown the article and travelled 200 miles to confront the impostor.
He has said it wont happen again, said the real Mason. Nonetheless, we advise all Anorak readers to demand proof of identity when former footballers offer their services, propose marriage, or simply ask for a glass of water.’
Coming Of Age
‘WHEN tabloid newspapers count down towards a girls birthday, its usually a tease towards her 16th and with it the legal chance to show her naked chest.
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| ‘Everybody say, tongue!’ |
But Charlotte Church was ever a breed apart, and although in the past we have been invited to ogle her backside during her reign as Rear of The Year, the prelude to her 18th birthday is a less lewd event.
The Mirror, which interviews the singer on the eve of her move into adulthood, wants her to bare only her soul and talk about her cash.
It [the money] will stay in the trust fund until I learn the value of money, says she, and maybe that will take another 50 years.
This must be a great disappointment to the paper, if not all the papers, which have been licking their lips at the thought of Charlotte getting her mitts on all that lucre.
But just say she did get all that cash, what would she buy? A £1 million ruby-studded bra, she replies cheekily.
And what would you buy if you had loads of money? The ruby-studded bra might be a fantasy, but it is surely a better option than the gift Jennifer Aniston bestowed on her husband.
The Star has it that for Brad Pitts 40th birthday his wife flew in Jamie Oliver to cook for him. She also flew in Jools, Jamies wife, which led to a perfect foursome at dinner and much bonding.
The result is that the four are now firm pals and Jen is happy to be seen out in public with the Olivers now shes in town to promote her latest movie.
But all might not be so pukka since Brad is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps hes at home, clad in a red shimmering bra and tucking into Oliver’s signature dish: a large mouthful of tongue?’
In The Brown Stuff
‘POSH FAKE TAN HORROR.
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| ‘Aw! But I wanted a brown bay-bee’ |
As headlines go that is right up other with the best of them. But what is the story behind the legend that screams out from the front of the Star.
As the Pope might say, it is as it was, and we read in slack-jawed horror that Posh, our Posh, has been involved in a truly terrible incident.
While spraying on the fake tan in her Hertfordshire home, Posh became light headed from the fumes and passed out on her kitchen floor into a pile of dirty newspapers.
Victoria was in her underwear and standing on a lot of old newspapers to prevent the colour from running, says an unnamed source.
After two minutes there was a really nasty smell in the room and Victoria suddenly went weak at the knees and fell over.
The result is that Posh felt dizzy for the rest of the day, which she spent with one brown leg that already been coloured in and one white one.
But not to worry, because Posh is a game bird and the Star says that she plans to get back on the proverbial horse. Next month shes to have a £17,000 spraying machine installed in her home in Madrid.
And for that money, it might do more colours than the usual seven shades of brown. What price a sunset yellow Posh with white trim?’
Small Matters
‘WHEN Randy Newman sang about the nuisance of short people and how they had no reason to live, many thought he was attempting humour.
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| Newman was right |
Newman is a deft lyricist, who sprinkles his lines with a light touch of sardony, but looking at todays papers, we realise that short people can cause problems.
Take the Mails front-page story on the council tax rebel, 83-year-old Elizabeth Winkfield.
While her age is held up here and in the Express (where it’s given headline prominence), it’s the Mails comment on her height, or lack of it, that strikes a chord.
Winkfield is just 4ft 10in tall. Sure, she knits her own clothes and grows her own vegetables, but we venture that her fighting spirit – evidenced in her refusal to pay her council tax bill – is based not on her frugality but on her lack of inches.
Short and bumptious Mrs Winkfield is taking a stand – a short one, we grant you, but the pictures confirm it to be a stand, nonetheless.
And its a campaign that is sending ripples though the Devon area where Winkfield lives.
Forget grey power, its the short who are revolting, as the Sun tells how the 80-yard annual pancake dash for ten-year-olds in Okehampton, Devon, has been cancelled.
The organiser of the Shrove Tuesday race, Derek Godfrey-Brown, has been told that be needs to pay a £280 insurance premium for the race and station a steward every three yards of the course.
The fee its four times what it was last year – is attributed to the rise of the so-called compensation culture. The insurers fear a competitor will sprain an ankle and do them for millions.
And its a fear based on good reason, given that the average tenyear-old is not overly tall. They are, for want of a better word, short.
And short people, as Newman told us, tell great big lies and have grubby hands.’
Hungary Mouths
‘GIVEN the shortage of teachers, nurses, engineers and dentists in this country, the Express headline that MILLIONS OF IMMIGRANTS TO FLOOD IN seems pretty good news.
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| On the look out for asylum seekers in even the most unlikely of places |
Problem is, at least as far as the Express can see, that most if not all of these new arrivals are scroungers, and if theres one thing weve got plenty of, its those.
The Express surgically-enhanced sister paper, the Star, even uses the word scroungers in its headline on how gypsies are on their way.
Gypsies are a favourite bugbear of the Star and Express newspapers, and today we learn that a guide, called Emergency Multilingual Phrasebook, is being issued by the British Red Cross Society, giving medical phrases in 36 languages.
This seems a less than sensational thing, until the Stars editorial column asks: But isnt it funny that this book arrives just weeks before millions of eastern Europeans get the right to come here?
Its only funny when you laugh at such a loaded question, coming as it does in the same section as the use of the phrase foreign health tourists.
And this is where we of a less parochial view of life realise that the Star is reading the phrasebook the wrong way round.
The book is not a translation service for wily scrounging foreigners but intended for use by British people who cant find a native doctor who speaks their language.
It will also serve our own so-called health tourists, who seeks treatment for their teeth when they travel to places like Hungary.
As the Sun reports, many British dental patients find it cheaper to fly to places like Hungary to get their teeth fixed than they do to seek private treatment in Blighty.
Sure they pay when they are there much less than they would fork out for the same treatment back here but what with them being Britishers abroad, fears about them smashing the locals teeth in cannot be easily dismissed…’
Anyone’s Gest
‘AS mysteries go, the Mirrors one about the identity of the blonde who was smuggled into Justin Timberlakes post-Brits hotel room cannot be too hard to solve.
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| Liza could never explain why it was that every time she looked at David she thought of sex |
We could ask her or her agent, if she has one.
But the plot thickens in the Mirror, where readers hear how it was not one but two mystery girls who went back to the singers room.
This is doubly mysterious, twice as juicy as the Suns story, but still as a mystery it doesnt come close to the puzzler that is David Gest.
The man whose face looks like someone has drawn features with a biro on an inflated pink condom is said by the Express to be on the point of marrying Diana Ross.
Of course, if true, Ross will have to wait until Gests divorce from Liz Minnelli is finalised. At which point, he will once more be free to marry.
But as the story goes on we learn that Ross is only a possible bride.
Although she and Gest, apparently, became close after she was stopped for drink driving in 2002 and turned to him for support, he only says the next Mrs Gest will be a showbiz personality.
Which means Gests next wife could just as easily be Jade Goody, Jordan or Kerry McFadden.
Or a mystery blonde…’
Pain Threshold
‘THE Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) seems more interested in watching people fall over and break their necks than it does in actually preventing them from doing so.
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| A disaster waiting to happen |
Its even kept a record of accidents, noting how the number of people slipping and hurting themselves on laminate flooring has shot up from 2,900 in 1998 to 12,300 in 2002.
Most of these spills can be seen on shows like Youve Been Framed and Kirstys Home Videos, and though highly amusing, the Royal Society has seen enough.
It now wants us to put down non-slip mats on those wooden floors, wear shoes with extra grip and stop spilling liquids on the veneer planks so making them super slippery.
And try not to read this while you are out on your micro scooter, accidents on which have risen by almost 900 per cent since 1998 and stood, teetered and fell father horribly at 19,700 in 2002.
The Mirror also notes that something called trouserrelated mishaps rose from 5,100 in 1998 to 10,100 in 2002, and over the same period zip-fly accidents fell by 700.
This decrease can be attributed to the increased popularity of trousers with elasticated waistbands, as featured on Anoraks Comfi-Slax range of clothing for the more mature frame.’
Evil Twins
‘DID silicon do for mild mannered Kate Price what that noxious brew did for Dr Jekyll?
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| Nice to see the back of Jordan |
We ask this on the morning the Star tells us that Jordan is no more. She is an ex-Jordan. For all time from now on in, the woman with the sculptured frontage will be known as plain Kate Price.
Jordan has sacked her agent, vowed to stop appearing at seedy club gigs before gangs of lads baying for me to get my tits out and to clean up her image.
And the reason for this reversion to her true self is her love for Peter Andre – oh, and the chance to make it big in Hollywood.
He [Andre} told me hes fallen for Kate, the real me. Not Jordan, the glamour girl I invented. She is gone…dead, says the performer formerly known as Jordan.
I’m a Gemini, says Kate and I believe there are two different people inside of me. (Only two?) Jordan is a slag, slut and bitch. Kate likes to stay at home, curl up in front of the fire and play with her son. While Jordan gets pissed, Kate can stop at a glass of wine.
Psychologists will have a field day with this confessional, but we wonder if there is a simple explanation for the change. Wed like to review our Jekyll and Hyde theory and replace it with the idea that Jordan is Kates evil twin.
Kate and Jordan are not two parts of a fractured single self but two distinct people, one good, one bad.
Its the kind of thinking that will have screenwriters in Los Angeles scribbling feverishly into the night.
And if they can work in a part, speaking or otherwise, for Kate/Jordans other twins, then so much the more sensational…’
Chicken Kebabs
‘KATE Prices Jordans have served her well, earning her acres of newspaper coverage and a few quid.
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| ‘We’re hoping for a Yorkshire terrier’ |
But now shes finished with them, perhaps shed be good enough to lend them to Jade Goody, the former Big Brother housemate.
Sticking with the Star, we lean that the woman who flashed her kebabs at a cringing world has noticed her breasts now look like thin bits of chicken.
And thats not what she wants. So shes contemplating having a boob job, and plans to raise her celebrity assets to a not inconsiderable EE cup size.
After that, Jade will have the chest to go with her child, who gets a mention in the paper, and so be well on her way to ticking all the boxes on her How To Be A Celebrity scorecard.
All she needs now is a designer pooch and the world will be her oyster, or shish kebab with extra cheese and curry sauce, should she prefer.
Just look at Victoria Beckham, who, as the Mirror says, has just taken delivery of a £600 Shar-Pei puppy from a Madrid pet shop.
Having bred two children called Brooklyn and Romeo, names that would suit any dog, we note with a lick of the lips how this newest member of the Beckham clan has been dubbed Carlos.
When fully grown, Carlos will stand 20-inches tall in his Anorak Dog Sox, weigh around 55 pounds and lose his wrinkles.
Which suggests that a career in football will be beyond him, although no-one is ruling out Carlos following his mothers footsteps into pop music.
Well, rumours are that hes got her voice…’
The Second Coming
‘FROM glamour mod-els and glamorous lifestyles, its only a short leap in a spandex jumpsuit to glam rock, and the Darkness.
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| ‘I’d like to dedicate this to the memory of Cider Pete’ |
The Sun was at last nights Brits music awards, on hand to see the biggest band to come out of Suffolk since Cider Pete And The Perry Men collect three gongs.
As the headline says, the boys are indeed Princes of Darkness, and lead singer Justin Hawkins is not over doing it when he says: Its amazing. We feel on top of the world.
The Suns showbiz editor, Dominic Mohan, heaps praise on the band and calls the Darknesss triumph a pivotal moment in UK music.
Surely its more of a revolving moment, given that the Darkness, though entertaining, resemble a band paying tribute to an amalgam of 1970s rockers.
And put with other big Brit winners of the past, like Oasis Beatles tribute act and Blurs homage to Small Faces and skiffle music, we wonder what awaits us next year.
Perhaps a Spice Girls reunion or, perish the thought, the second coming of a new Cliff Richard…’
Lard Today
‘FAT is no longer a feminist issue for daytime TV shows featuring Vanessa Feltz and that Australian DJ. It is a matter of national importance that no-one can escape.
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| ‘Before I met Tony, I was built like a whippet’ |
Fat can strike at any time, and today we launch Fat Watch, urging you to be on the look out for signs of fat, lest it creep up on you and smother you in its greasy clutches.
No-one is safe from fat, not even Jonny Wilkinson, who is seen walking along a beach in todays Mail, accompanied by his svelte girlfriend, Diana Stewart.
Is beached rugby star paying the price of enforced absence? asks the paper, alluding to Wilkinsons injury and what it sees as his vanishing six pack.
And what goes for Wilkinson goes for another 900,000 of us who are unable to work because of injuries, sporting and otherwise.
Sticking with the Mail, readers learn how around 60% of the 1.5 million Britons receiving incapacity benefit are officially obese.
And the paper is of the opinion that most of those are unable to function properly because of their obesity.
The paper also reminds us that fat is now a political issue, and the number of us needing hospital treatment for obesity has risen by 80% since 1997, when cake-eating Labour came to power.
The Express makes the same link, noting how in 1998, 810 people got a hospital bed because they were fat, whereas the figure had spread to 1,442 people last year.
While the link between Tony Blair and the increased consumption of lard is hard to prove, it remains a distinct possibility that a vote for Tony is a vote for fat.
Which is odd, since youd suppose looking at Tony at meal times would put you off your dinner. But, as we say, fat moves in mysterious ways…’
This Bulldog Breed
‘IT cannot have escaped your notice that there are thousands of bedraggled children wandering up and down the grass verges beside our motorways.
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| ‘Last one to the car’s a poodle’ |
Its the ugly open secret of modern Britain that unwanted children are being pushed out of slowly moving vehicles onto the motorways hard shoulder by families who no longer need or want them.
Many parents laboured under the impression that owning a child would raise their celebrity status and improve their conversation. How wrong they were!
As such, children are losing their popularity, and are being replaced by cats and dogs, which can serve you equally well in the celebrity stakes.
And whats more, a survey by the Norwich Union, reproduced in the Mail, has noted the emergence of new child-pet hybrid.
While children are often named after pets (Oscar, Kitty, Rex), cats and dogs are taking the names of humans.
Reading down the list of the top ten names for dogs, we note Molly, Max, Charlie, Holly, Jack, Ben, Jake, Rosie, Buster and Meg.
Max, Molly and Charlie are also among the ten most popular names for cats, adding to the feline-human mix of Chloes, Sophies and Harrys.
Surprisingly, Tiddles still tops the list of cats names, but when asked, many of them prefer to be known as Kerry, Jordan and Peter.’
Scott Free
‘LOOKING at the list of dog names, we can see no sign of Scott, which pretty much sums up the tough time Scott Sullivan is having.
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| First-class tossing |
Sullivan, as the Sun reminds us, was Jordans boyfriend at the moment she stepped into the Im A Celebrity… jungle. He is now her ex-boyfriend, and refreshingly bitter about being dumped.
I cant believe what shes done to me, says Sullivan. Im gutted.
The story goes that Sullivan flew out to Australia to talk to his glamour mo-del lover after seeing her flirting with her co-star, Peter Andre.
But she didnt speak to him, so Sullivan is forced to air his grievances in public. And the Mirror hears him call Andre a slimeball and a first-class tosser.
Which is either insania or pretty accurate, depending on where you’re standing…’
Method Acting
‘NO sooner has the St Valentines Day balloon begun to deflate and the heart-shaped Teddy come apart at the seams than love is put under renewed strain.
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| The new face of Polyfilla |
The Sun tells us that all is not well with Liz Hurley and her millionaire lover, Arun Nayer.
Watching a preview of Lizs latest movie, The Method, Nayer was shocked to see his Liz engaging in a sexual act with a co-star.
An unnamed source says how Nayer became agitated and jumped to his feet. Liz begged him to stay. She said, Calm down, Arun, please, its only acting. Its not real, its my job.
Liz, of course, is doing herself down. In her hands, acting is more than a mere job – it is a calling.
And who can truly blame Nayer for failing to spot the join where acting and reality meet when the star beneath the limelight is dear Liz?
Not we, and if anyone still doubts Hurleys star credentials, they should look to the Mail and its story about how Englands rose performed on set.
The Methods British director Duncan Roy has, in the Mails opinion, broken with protocol and spilled the beans on his films star.
Liz seems to have the impression that she is a great actress, says Roy. She totally believes she is someone special. She is not.
And there is more. Roy passes comment on the famed Hurley beauty, saying how watching her using a spatula to trowel in thick globs of foundation on her old acne marks tarnished her allure.
He also claims that the stars use of Botox has left her looking stiff, like a very wooden tree, or, for that matter, her co-star.’
