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.
Modern Terror
‘WHO would have thought that this country stands on the brink of a war with Iraq – a war that could not only cost hundreds of thousands of lives but one which could provoke catastrophe in the Middle East? Who would have guessed that we are just five days short of the first anniversary of the September 11 attacks, the worst peacetime terrorist acts of modern times?
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| ”It’s like a jungle in there,” says Darren Day of his Australian nightmare |
Not the readers of the Sun, that’s for sure, who this morning enter Day 1,769 of the playground spat between Darren Day and Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. And today it is Darren’s turn to pull Tara’s hair, claiming that the ”lust-crazed toff” forced his hand down her knickers while they were in Australia filming I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here!. ”Tara might be an aristocrat but where I’m concerned she’s certainly been no lady,” he fumed to the Sun.
So why did Darren tough it out in the Aussie jungle where he had to put up not only with all manner of bugs and snakes but also with a lust-fuelled stalker? Charidee, of course. And not any old charidee, but a children’s hospital in Wales – a cause with special relevance to girlfriend Adele whose brother Darren died of a heart attack on a cross-country run at the age of 15.
”The only thing that stopped me going was the idea that I might let Adele down,” the crooner said. That and, of course, a much-needed boost to his flagging profile. ”I would do anything for her, anything. She is the love of my life, the light of my life.” But, then, Tara does seem to have a good agent…
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A Touch Of Frost?
‘WITH crime levels in this country as near to zero as statistics allow and police officers sitting around in the nick with nothing to do but watch old episodes of The Bill on UK Gold, we are glad to report that what looks like a crime has taken place in Scotland.
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| Hardened shoppers prepare for the opening of the new Narvey Nics |
And it is not just any old crime, but a celebrity crime – and that means that TV producers will very soon be turning it into a three-part mini-series.
The Star reports that Atomic Kitten star Jenny Frost is being investigated by police in Edinburgh after being accused of punching photographer Hazel Mall in the eye at the opening of the new Harvey Nichols store. The ”stunning singer” claims the snapper pushed her and had been abusive to her all evening, according to the Star – and it is now the task of Scotland’s finest forensic brains to sort out who did what.
A police source explained that CCTV footage could be the key to solving this baffling case. That and good old-fashioned police work. ”Some of the witnesses are still to be traced an spoken to and there have been allegation and counter-allegations by the parties involved.”
It’s at times like this that you really wish Taggart were still alive…
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Heir With No Hair?
‘WE cannot all be blessed with the looks and talent of Darren Day or Jenny Frost, but some of us can luxuriate in a full head of hair. Not Prince William, though, who is losing his matinee idol looks as quickly as his barnet – and would be well-advised to find himself a future queen before he turns into Prince Edward.
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| ”Please Lord, let that be the only thing I have in common with Uncle Eddie” |
As a staunch supporter of the monarchy, the Mail keeps a particularly close eye on such things and it has noticed that recent pictures of the 20-year-old second-in-line ”show that the back of his head is starting to reflect the light rather than absorb it”.
And this, says the paper, at an age even younger than Edward was when the world was first alerted to the shocking news that he too was going to be a slaphead.
Worse still – according to trichologist Marilyn Sherlock, there is no cure. ”A lot of people just ride through it because there’s nothing they can do about it,” she said. And ride through it is exactly what we would expect William to do, whether in pursuit of a fox, a polo ball or just a game young filly.
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Tanked
‘NAKED flames and petrol do not mix. It’s a lesson learned early by most motorists, but seems to have slipped the mind of one man in Slovakia.
The 30-year-old, who has not been named, says his fuel gauge had broken, so he pulled into a petrol station to see if there was any fuel left in the tank.
When he could not see into the tank, he used a cigarette lighter to illuminate it. Apparently there was still fuel in the tank – it ignited, and then the car blew up.
The blast demolished most of the petrol station in the town of Horna Streda, and two people were hospitalised.
The man escaped with burns, but has been charged with endangering public safety. ‘
Expressing Our Deepest Fears
‘THE Daily Mail and the Daily Express have come up with some cracking headlines over the years. But not for them the snappy puns of the red-tops, or the wry sideways glances of the broadsheets.
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| ”Remember to blow it right between his eyes” |
Instead, they are the masters of the paranoid yet self-righteous whinge and the angrily defiant gesture.
The Mail’s ”Koreans eat dogs and I will NOT apologise for saying so” was an early contender for Headline of the Year, but now the Express has stolen a march with: ”Now you can’t be held for blowing cannabis in a policeman’s face”.
Where does one begin? The breathtaking clumsiness alone is enough to take the breath away.
Then there is the implication that the offence described is a major problem which the police have been struggling to keep the lid on, and which will now become an epidemic thanks to bleeding-heart liberals and evil drugs campaigners.
Then there’s the nagging feeling that worse is to come. Political correctness has gone mad, as we know, so the next step will surely be a new regime in which you CAN be held for NOT blowing cannabis in a policeman’s face.
And then where will we be? In Britain 2002, that’s where.
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Roller Disco
‘THERE’S nothing worse than inconspicuous consumption. Discreet, old-money grandees, Jurgen Klinsmann tootling around in an old VW… Makes you sick doesn’t it?
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| Spirit Of Ecstasy prepares for a bit of car surfing |
If you’ve got it flaunt it, we say. So we are pleased to hear that Richard Strudwick, who is described by the Sun as a ”show-off”, rounded off an evening of high spirits at the Grasshopper pub in Surrey by jumping up and down on his Rolls Royce Silver Shadow and shouting ”This is mine!”
Not only that, but he had performed handbrake turns and wheelspins, not to mention driving the car on two wheels.
He rammed the manager’s motor, then fell out of his own vehicle while trying to do the same to a police car. Then the driverless Roller smashed into the pub’s frontage.
When arrested, Strudwick claimed it had been in the wrong gear. For some reason, it was the ”This is mine!” business that seems to have caused offence.
At Guildford Crown Court, prosecutor Constance Briscoe did not try to hide her feelings as she described how Strudwick got on the car roof and jumped up and down.
”He was showing off,” she said, and a murmur of disapproval spread around the courtroom.
As yet, there has been no mention of Strudwick blowing cannabis into a policeman’s face. The case continues.
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A Hard Act To Follow?
‘THE so-called hard man Roy Keane is in the news again today, and once again his autobiography is at the centre of things.
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| ”How about a day off? I was in your mag yesterday, the day before…” |
”Roy so scared of City” says the Star, reporting that Keane bottled out of a book-signing because the shop was near the Maine Road stadium of local rivals Manchester City – in whose colours Alf Inge Haaland received his punishment from the firm but fair United skipper.
Actually, Keane didn’t pull out of the signing altogether. He simply suggested that he sat in a room on his own and signed books brought in by his minders.
”He’s let a lot of people down,” said store spokesman Louis Bruton.
He has indeed. What kind of example is that to set to youngsters aspiring to be the hard men of tomorrow?
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Into The Lion’s Den
‘WHEN it comes to immensely stupid drunken pranks, this outdoes stealing garden gnomes by far.
After going on a 12-pint drinking spree with friends in Cornwall, Scott Donlan broke into a zoo and tried to feed stolen ice creams to the lions.
Donlan, 19, raided the ice cream stalls at Newquay Zoo and pushed them in a wheelbarrow over to the lion enclosure where Ronnie and his mate Connie were sleeping.
When keepers turned up the next day, they found melted Cornettos pushed through the mesh of the lions’ den.
Police were alerted and arrested the teenager, who admitted burglary, after following a trail of ice creams and lollies from the zoo. He was fined £350. ‘
Style Without Class
‘IF Tara does return from her ordeal by chastity, it will be to a different Britain. The Mirror carries the distressing news that many top-class goods are losing their snob value because too many ordinary people are buying them.
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| ”But they are Gucci!” |
The under-£32,000-a-year brigade – they do exist, we are reliably informed – have apparently targeted items such as Burberry clothes, Remy Martin cognac, Chivas Regal scotch and personal products by Givenchy and Christian Dior, thereby diluting their cachet.
But, Tara, fret not. Help is at hand in the shape of market analyst Andrew Russell, who has come up with a simple solution – simply raise the prices on these prestige items until poor people can no longer afford them.
It may cost the rich a bit more in the short term, but we think you’ll all agree it is a price worth paying to ensure that there will never come a day when any old oik can wander around in an Armani shell-suit.
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Such Fragrance
‘MARY Archer is no stranger to the inside of a courtroom – the fragrance and elegance that make it unthinkable that her husband could ever have indulged in cold, unloving rubber-insulated sex in a seedy hotel with a common prostitute have lit up many a trial.
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| ”Anne Robinson, you say? Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure” |
But normally she appears in a supporting role to her husband, the great author Jeffrey Archer. Yesterday, however, it was her turn to give evidence to a tribunal investigating claims that she unfairly dismissed her PA Jane Williams.
And in her evidence we learn (from the Mail) that the sweet-scented one was referred to as Anne Robinson (”harridan of The Weakest Link”) by Williams, who also (we are sorry to report) was the author of an ”inappropriate” e-mail that carried a reference to Lord Archer.
Such gratitude to a boss, who without the strains of her husband’s recent perjury trial would no doubt have had radiance – and compassion.
When Lady Archer became concerned at the high premiums she was paying for Williams, the Mail reports that she solicitously asked her PA: ”What is the matter with you? Is it terminal?” Such concern for others is precious – and may Lady Archer’s fragrance, elegance and radiance light up the inside of many more court rooms in the years to come.
The hearing, as they say, continues.
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Trigger Happy
‘MORE evidence that something needs to be done about gun control in the US – a Pennsylvania man has been charged with shooting a friend who crept up behind him at a concert and gave him a wedgie.
Daniel Strouss, 19, is alleged to have shot his friend Eric Kassoway in the arm and leg with a 9mm gun. The teenager is said to have carried a grudge for months after Mr Kassoway sneaked up behind him at a gig held by the band Phish, and yanked up his underwear.
Mr Kassoway, 19, nearly died from loss of blood. ‘
Birds Of A Feather
‘LAURA has found her very own mental best mate in the shape of Tom’s ex, Sadie. The two have a lot in common: both are goggled-eyed blondes, who have been off Mr Reality’s Christmas card list for years. Sadie is pretending that Tom has left her and her daughter penniless when in actual fact she’s got a pillowcase stuffed full of cash which she keeps taking out and stroking while holding a picture of Tom to her face. Laura is trying to get Ian Beale to impregnate her – what further proof of her insanity do you need?
According to the tabloids, Laura is set to get pregnant soon and as Ian has had a vasectomy, the bookies are already taking bets on who’s the father. My money’s on any deaf, dumb and blind men that have been through Walford recently.
Now someone in The Square’s started sending poison pen letters and you don’t have to be Miss Marple to work out it’s one of the two mental sisters. Sharon got one warning her from Tom and now Pauline’s got one telling her Lisa’s sleeping with Phil (although they don’t seem to be doing much actual sleeping).
Lisa and Phil’s affair is about to be discovered anyway as Sharon overheard them in Phil’s bedroom, and it wasn’t his collection of My Little Ponies he was showing her in there. ”Whatya fink ya doingLisa?” Sharon, who’s started trying to get her lines out as quickly as possible for some reason, asked. Lisa put on her whiney voice and begged Sharon not to tell Mark. ”I luv Phil, it’s the real fink, Sharon.” Until the next time she decides to shoot him that is.
But the path of true love is finally smoothing out for Billy and Little Mo. The pair shared a very disturbing kiss in the E20 last week after Mo declared that she deserved the love of ”a good man”. So who? Certainly not the former alcoholic and child-abuser Billy? How quickly the Eastenders scriptwriters forget.
Janine is less than happy about the news that Billy and Little Mo are together. Janine has decided that even if Billy isn’t Mr Right, he is Mr Right Now, and stuck her tongue down his throat while he was trying to cash up. Billy told her to move out as he thinks it’s only a matter of time before Little Mo asks to move in. Hope Janine takes the iron with her when she goes.
Jim’s budgie must have a great agent as it continues to have more screen time than most of the cast. This week, her storyline revolved around a bet to see how many eggs she would lay. (Those crazy East End types really know how to have a good time, don’t they?) Dot caught Jim cheating and insisted that he donate his winnings to a home for ageing birds who no one wants anymore. Which is surely where most of the female residents of Albert Square end up?
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In Search Of It
‘IF you had ever wondered why ‘It’ girls are so-called, the Star is happy to provide an explanation this morning. Apparently, the name derives from the fact that under normal circumstances they cannot survive for more than a week without getting ‘it’ – as Tara Palmer-Tomkinson is now demonstrating in the Aussie jungle.
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| ”You say they’re trapped in the woods with a sex-craved lunatic…” |
Early symptoms of withdrawal include wandering around in the undergrowth in a thong, picking a fight with all her female rivals and sending love notes to a Cliff Richard clone.
However, things have gone from bad to worse, and if Tara doesn’t get ‘it’ in the next 48 hours, anthropologists believe she may expire. The Star, which is the official I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! paper, lays out the situation starkly on its front page. ”NO SEX TARA GOES CRAZY,” it explains to its army of readers, most of whom are no doubt telling their work colleagues how it would be very different if they were out there with her.
”Posh totty” Tara fled into the jungle after a row with fellow contestant (or ”hunky singer”, if you believe the Star) Darren Day when he refused to bed her. ”The scorned socialite, who was chased and brought back by guards, branded him ‘an arsehole and a poor excuse for a man’,” the Star continues. Both of which are arguably true, but do not necessarily explain why Tara was so keen to go to bed with him a couple of minutes earlier.
If Tara was hopping mad, there may however be a more simple explanation for it – she has confessed that she doesn’t want to be a human, she wants to be a kangaroo. Or maybe a rabbit…
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Interstellar Gellar
‘IN a land where even people up north say ”Awight, mate” and ”Nah wot I mean?” in broad EastEnders’ English, it’s a wonder that until now Uri Geller was not a name embedded in the rich pasture of Cockney rhyming slang.
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| ”Bloody weirdo!” |
All the old favourites, Richard The Third, Gregory Peck, Jack Jones, Lady Godiver, are rooted way back in the mists of time, and ever since Vera Lynn hung up her Alan Wickers only Lionel Blair’s flairs have come close to updating the rhyming slang dictionary.
It’s something that is hard to Adam and Eve. But if nothing else, TV show I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! is creating a new set of vocal shortcuts.
And so we have interstellar Uri Geller, an apt rhyme for a spoon-bending feller who, as the Sun reports on its front page, is the first to leave the jungle clearing.
And he leaves behind Darren Day, who can be seen on the Star’s cover page posing in high heels, fur wrap and pearls, giving a suitable explanation as to why his career is in such a state, and to the new rhyme: Darren Day – Cabaret.
It’s thin stuff, but not nearly as slender as Tara Palmer-Tomkinson, who can be seen on both the covers of the Express and Mail.
Tara Palmer (French Riviera) is in the news because she’s made a jibe about Dodi Fayed (dog tired).
Inside the Mail, the It girl is heard in conversation with of all people Christine Hamilton. ”I knew Fayed so well,” says TP-T. ”Fayed was so foul to him.” Says Mrs Hamilton: ”The whole thing was false, the idea that they were so bonded.” T-PT agrees.
Back in Knightsbridge, Mohamed Al Fayed was watching the television. He expresses a lack of surprise over Christine Hamilton’s views but is unaware who Tara is.
”She never knew Dodi,” says Al. ”He had better taste than to mix with women like that.” He goes on: ”Like so many nonentities who capitalise on Diana and Dodi, she is trying to make a name for herself by claiming an association she never had.”
Which is pretty much what Tara’s been saying about him.
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Mein Holiday Kampf
‘SUCH is the allure of celebrity that middle-aged crooner Bryan Ferry can still romance a 21-year-old dancer called Katie Turner.
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| ”It’s got a nine-hole golf course and a giant water-slide…” |
Ferry’s new ”Roxy Lady” features on the Sun’s cover, and inside, too, as the paper goes shopping with the couple in Munich’s swankiest stores.
What the couple then did is not reported, but if they wanted to head to a favourite haunt of world leaders and big-name stars they could have popped along to Obersalzberg.
For those not in the know, the Sun shows the German idyll, a wonderful place, a sight of rare tranquillity and splendour from where patrons of the town’s soon-to-be new hotel can relax, pen an ode to their new love or simply plot an invasion of Russia.
Nestled below The Eagle’s Nest, the new 140-room complex of spa, tennis courts and golf courses will bring new life to one of Adolf Hitler’s favourite wartime retreats.
Hitler-minded golfers can even chip along from the sand bunker to one of the underground bunkers, in which Hitler entertained Eva Braun with his famous ”squeaky armpit” and ”Newton’s ball” routine.
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Show Me The Honey
‘BACK in the 1980s, when windsurfers did it standing up, cowboys did it with chaps and truck drivers with Yorkies, celebrities did it on Celebrity Squares and the end of the pier.
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| Brown bread |
Now, they’re doing it everywhere, and even their children are doing it.
The Mirror shows a picture of Madonna’s daughter Lourdes walking her half-brother Rocco around a Beverly Hills park.
And the Sun has a shot of ”luvvly bruvvly!” Brooklyn Beckham popping in to see his new brother Romeo at the hospital. Well brought-up in the celebrity manner, Brooklyn obligingly turns his face to camera.
And over in the Express, Zoe Ball is pictured clutching her little Woody, and telling the world that she’s really happy. Which is great.
And in a few years time, they too might have their names ingrained in the Cockney lexicon. And then, as Jamie Oliver would have it, earn some proper Poppy Honey.
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Paper Run
‘RUNNING out of loo paper counts as an emergency in anyone’s book, particularly if you happen to get caught short in a public place.
So when a PC found himself in a supermarket cubicle with no toilet paper, naturally he radioed his police colleagues for help.
The Sun reports that police chiefs are investigating the claim that the officer radioed for help when visiting the toilet at the Tesco store in Worksop, Nottinghamshire.
Officers responded to the call within minutes and reportedly asked a security guard to deliver the toilet roll to their colleague. They are said to have cheered when he finally emerged from the cubicle. ‘
Otherwise Engaged
‘ROMEO Beckham, Roy Keane’s elbow One way or another, Manchester United are hogging the front and back pages this morning. Even Keano’s dog gets a look-in, as punters queued to pat her in a Dublin bookshop, unaware that they were the victims of a TV hoax.
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| Another close shave for Edwards |
With so much to choose from, it’s sad to see that a serious paper like the Daily Mirror should choose to go rummaging around for skeletons in United’s cupboard. But rummage they did, and they’ve come up with a sequel to their recent story about club director Martin Edwards.
Last week, you will recall, the former United boss was quizzed by police about allegations that he peered under a cubicle door in the ladies’ toilets at the luxury health club Mottram Hall in Cheshire. Now the paper reveals that this isn’t the first time he has been accused of such things. Indeed, his behaviour at the Posthouse Hotel at Haydock Park racecourse eventually led him to be banned from the establishment.
His modus operandi – now known as the Edwards Manoeuvre – was simple. He would sit at the same table each time, just next to the ladies’ toilet, then slip in at an opportune moment. No doubt he thought his surreptitious visits were discreet enough to avoid detection, but in fact the hotel staff were well aware of his little game. ”We used to come on duty and say, ‘Is he here? Has he been in the loos yet?”’ reveals one worker, who asked not to be named. ”There’s obviously something wrong with him for him to do this sort of thing,” added a senior colleague.
Edwards was not available at his home in Cheshire, but we are informed that he will be questioned by police at his convenience. Or at a public convenience, if he prefers.
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Musical Youth
”’REVEALED, pop generation’s ignorance of great music,” announces the Mail, reporting the findings of a new survey by Classic FM. It seems that many children today have little or no knowledge of classical music, and have trouble recognising even the most elementary musical instruments.
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| ”If that’s a guitar, I’m the new Elvis” |
Seven per cent thought a violin was a guitar, and most failed to identify the cello and French horn from pictures. An impressive 65 per cent couldn’t name a single classical composer, although many had a go – and came up with names including Britney Spears, Leonardo da Vinci, Louis Armstrong, Will Young and Monet. It makes you despair, doesn’t it?
How we yearn for those long-lost days when a middle-manager would open the door, kiss the wife who was busy in the kitchen, pour himself a drink from the repro antique cabinet and settle down to the sounds of the Daily Mail Classical Greats album as they seeped from the walnut stereogram. Tchaikovsky’s Everyone’s A Fruit and Nutcase, Bach’s Hamlet Cigars, Dvorak’s Hovis Classics, one and all.
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Thatcher’s Children
”’GLASS ceilings? I **** ’em.” That, to paraphrase Ray Winstone, seems to be the attitude of today’s up-and-coming career women. The Mail reports that the ”Noughties Woman” rejects the female stereotype and ”out-lads the lads” in the office.
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| ”I do so love a true blue movie” |
Of course, the Mail manufactures so many contradictory female stereotypes itself that it would be impossible to live up to them all, but here they are concentrating on the pernicious type who ”said that being ‘very confident’ in work and social situations made them happy”.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, a third of those surveyed said that they regularly read erotic fiction and watch pornographic films, while almost half said they would be ”quite relaxed” going to a lap-dancing club.
A terrible state of affairs, you will agree, but not half as worrying as the name chosen for this new phenomenon: Thatcher Syndrome – after the Daily Mail’s very own patron saint.
Blue films? Strip clubs? Mucky books? Whatever can it all mean?
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Another Day, Another Woman
‘FOR those of you who keep track of this sort of thing, it has been 17 days, eight hours, 44 minutes and 19 seconds since Darren Day last got engaged.
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| Lord of the engagement rings |
Time enough for the man himself to go cold turkey, one would have thought, never mind what it’s doing to all of us waiting expectantly for the next ring to be slipped onto the next finger.
But fear not, because even in the wilds of Australia, the multi-talented Day is putting his charms to good use in wooing the equally talented Tara Palmer-Tomkinson.
The Sun shows the duo, currently Down Under filming a TV show entitled I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here, enjoying ”a steamy kiss” as they ”let their animal instincts get the better of them in a jungle clinch”.
But over in the Star, Day’s ”sexy lover”, dancer Adele Vellacott, warns the latter day Cliff Richard to keep his hands off the It girl. She apparently told a pal: ”How could he do this to me? He’s going to have a lot to answer for when he gets back home.”
Indeed he is. Kissing a girl without asking her to marry him is the height of bad manners. Even in the Australian outback, we’re sure he could fashion a ring from a couple of dead vines and some koala vomit…
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Peacock Shows Off His Bird
‘SHE’S had a rough time recently, what with her baby being born blind and her having a cancer on the end of her finger, but we are happy to report, courtesy of the Star, that Jordan is in love.
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| What tanning salon worker could resist? |
Not just with fame, either – for the paper has a picture of her with Matt Peacock, ”the hunk who has put a smile back on the face” of the besotted, if pneumatic, glamour model.
And we can safely say that 19-year-old Matt, who works in a tanning salon in his native Stockport, is the perfect gentleman, as well as the envy of his mates.
”They were totally in shock when they found out,” he says. ”They had pictures of her on their walls and took them down to be respectful to me – but I told them they didn’t have to.”
It’s little touches like that which, we’re sure you would agree, mark out a gentleman of true class…
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Gooding Gooding Gumdrops
‘A GENTLEMAN is not how one would describe Kylie Minogue’s on-off boyfriend James Gooding, who yet again is up to no good in the Mirror.
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| Proof that Davinia was up to no good |
The Essex ”rotter” has apparently spent a THIRD night with blonde ex-Hollyoaks star Davinia Taylor at her north London home, while the Aussie songbird is in New York attending the MTV Music Awards.
In case Gooding had forgotten what his belle looks like, the Mail obliges with a picture of her in a flowing white outfit, which (the paper says) ”bestowed upon her the image of a Greek goddess” – beside a picture of Britney Spears in a black leather outfit which ”carried the distinctly less innocent overtones of bondage gear”.
But back in Blighty, the evidence is building up against Gooding with the Mirror publishing incriminating pictures of him and Taylor. Admittedly not together, but you can’t have everything.
In one, 26-year-old Gooding is shown smiling (a clear sign of sexual intercourse having taken place in the previous couple of hours), while 24-year-old Taylor is wearing shades – prompting the Mirror’s 3am girls to suggest that it had been a long night.
If more proof were needed, the paper is only too happy to provide it in the form of a picture of Taylor in a London nightclub on Wednesday night wearing a denim skirt. We rest our case, as they say…
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DIY Surgery
‘THE NHS might be bad, but spare a thought for those on the hospital waiting lists in New Zealand.
Ted Matthews, 72, was forced to slice his own finger off after getting fed up with waiting for surgery on his gangrenous hand.
Mr Matthrews, of Timaru, developed dry gangrene in his hands and toes after heart surgery last year, and had just received a letter saying it could be up to six months before he could have an operation at Christchurch Hospital.
He told Television One News that he just ”whacked” the finger with a pair of scissors and ”chopped it off”. He has since lost another finger, which fell off of its own accord. ‘
Follow The Van
”’IT’S DISGUSTING.” Direct and straight to the point. We like it. The words are those of ”Mum Rhonda Bailey, 28, who threw eggs at the van carrying [Maxine] Carr to court last week”.
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| Toys R Us Peterborough sells out of new ‘Hang ‘Em High’ garden swing |
They appear in the Star’s front-page story, which tells of how egg-throwers like Bailey have been cruelly denied their sport now that the lily-livered authorities have decided that she can communicate by video-link.
”Full story: Page 7” we are promised, but on turning with trembling fingers to the designated page, we find that there are no further words from Mum Rhonda. Is this the shortest interview ever published? Maybe she is saving her words for use on placards: ”ROT IN HELL” (3), ”BRING BACK THE ROPE” (4). Or perhaps words simply fail her.
And on the subject of words, the paper reports that the Rev Tim Alban Jones, vicar of St Andrew’s church in Soham, has been giving careful thought to the memorial service for Holly and Jessica. ”Forgiveness is at the very heart of the Christian gospel,” he avows, ”but it’s not the appropriate time to be going into this type of theological question.”
Indeed not. We humbly suggest our one theme for the sermon: String ’em all up – let God sort ’em out.
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