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We don’t just report off-beat news, breaking news and digest the best and worst of the news media analysis and commentary. We give an original take on what happened and why. We add lols, satire, news photos and original content.

Harry’s Game

‘EXCUSE us while we let out a low whistle. Who’s the hunk? Prince Harry, that’s who! In a red-and-blue polo jersey and red-and-blue face to match, he’s a sight for sore eyes and no mistake.

He’s the spitting image of his mum

Hello! reminds us that the ginger prince is a bit of a joker, and that Diana used to say ”Harry’s like me – always in trouble!”

He once pretended to swallow a goldfish at Tiggy Legge-Bourke’s wedding, and then there was the time he experimented with soft drugs – before seeing the error of his ways and switching to crack cocaine.

But there’s the other side, too, like his decision to donate his pure blue blood to the mobile Blood Donor van that visited Eton, or the way he queued up for a hot dog and cola at a recent polo match, and then paid in cash.

Whatever amazing new thing he does, he’s always in the headlines, but, like his late great-grandmother, he always makes it look so easy. And that’s not all.

”With his mother’s wicked sense of humour and that boyish grin, Harry is shaping up to rival Prince William as the new royal heartthrob,” promises Hello! And there’s not a red-blooded man among us who would disagree.

Posted: 11th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Farewell, Kate

‘AAAAHHHHH!!!! Sorry, readers, but ever since OK! began to insert its Hot Stars section into the middle of the magazine proper, the pages routinely flop open on some less than lovely things.

The Undead

You might bury David Gest and Liza Minelli (and looking at him, it seems someone has tried) but they can pop up and shock us with no warning.

But we’ve quickly turned the page, and having gazed at a shot of Gareth Gates in Paris with win-a-date winner Alicia Cunliffe, we’re now feeling balanced and able to go on.

And we do exactly that until we come to Kate Lawler. Make that Kate Lawler, Emma Chard and Jo Oates. Like an Atomic Kitten tribute band, Kate and her equally dark-rooted blonde pals offer the world their best sides as they welcome OK! aboard a boat.

And, no, although Kate has made many millions from her Big Brother win and is friends with the mega-famous Duncan from Blue, the yacht is only a loan, and after the high fun on the high seas are over, she has to give it back.

But not before she and her crew have strapped on some shorts with the word ”Hot Shots” written on the back. And Kate has pulled on some other shorts with ”Soccer Stars” written on the front.

And then she tells the world that someone called Spencer, with whom she has a ”brother-sister thing going on” (Kate: ”I really fancy him and always have done”), calls her ”Buttmonkey”.

Which is Spencer’s way of ”being totally horrible to me in the nicest way possible”. Which is not even trying. How about just ignoring you. Let’s see if we can all do that…

Posted: 10th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Get Ahead, Get A Bump

‘WITH the world set to end at any minute, there are at least five people out there who have yet to wear the cloak of celebrity.

Vanessa had a big bump long before it was fashionable

It’s an outrage, we agree, but if any of those poor forgotten few are listening and are able, they should get along to the sperm bank and make a withdrawal.

Because it’s a” Celebrity Baby Boom”, and if you haven’t got a designer bump, then you, dear friend, are not in the club.

And what a club it is! There’s Sadie Frost, with her tummy hanging out the bottom of her T-shirt. And why if it isn’t Sarah Jessica Parker walking in New York with her latest must-have accessory.

And Sharleen Spiteri is not just big in Glasgow but is equally rotund in London and pretty much everywhere else she dares to go. And who could fail to recognise Natasha, er, thingymabob from Atomic Kitten?

Look, there’s good old Natalie doing the thing with Francis de la Tour and the other member of Atomic Kitten.

So come on, girls, get out there and get pregnant. And if you can’t find a willing man, have a word with Darren Day’s agent.

Posted: 10th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


On The Homefront

‘ONE man who already has children who call him dad is Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen.

Anyone would be proud to call Laurence ”dad”

No, it’s true, and to prove it OK! has been along to see the little loves actually admit on camera that Laurence is their papa.

For the occasion, Laurence dresses in refreshing white, and then wears a pink and blue shirt to dance and skip on the sands near his Cornish cottage, where he lives with his wife.

Yes, wife, as in woman who has his children. And there she is, snuggling up to her man. And then they’re off, to clamber aboard Laurence’s boat, The Geisha Boy.

But soon it’s back to an evening round the fire, while she reads stories and Laurence prepares for his show, Homefront. Which is something we couldn’t make up…

Posted: 10th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Farewell, Kate

‘AAAAHHHHH!!!! Sorry, readers, but ever since OK! began to insert its Hot Stars section into the middle of the magazine proper, the pages routinely flop open on some less than lovely things.

The Undead

You might bury David Gest and Liza Minelli (and looking at him, it seems someone has tried) but they can pop up and shock us with no warning.

But we’ve quickly turned the page, and having gazed at a shot of Gareth Gates in Paris with win-a-date winner Alicia Cunliffe, we’re now feeling balanced and able to go on.

And we do exactly that until we come to Kate Lawler. Make that Kate Lawler, Emma Chard and Jo Oates. Like an Atomic Kitten tribute band, Kate and her equally dark-rooted blonde pals offer the world their best sides as they welcome OK! aboard a boat.

And, no, although Kate has made many millions from her Big Brother win and is friends with the mega-famous Duncan from Blue, the yacht is only a loan, and after the high fun on the high seas are over, she has to give it back.

But not before she and her crew have strapped on some shorts with the word ”Hot Shots” written on the back. And Kate has pulled on some other shorts with ”Soccer Stars” written on the front.

And then she tells the world that someone called Spencer, with whom she has a ”brother-sister thing going on” (Kate: ”I really fancy him and always have done”), calls her ”Buttmonkey”.

Which is Spencer’s way of ”being totally horrible to me in the nicest way possible”. Which is not even trying. How about just ignoring you. Let’s see if we can all do that…

Posted: 9th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Get Ahead, Get A Bump

‘WITH the world set to end at any minute, there are at least five people out there who have yet to wear the cloak of celebrity.

Vanessa had a big bump long before it was fashionable

It’s an outrage, we agree, but if any of those poor forgotten few are listening and are able, they should get along to the sperm bank and make a withdrawal.

Because it’s a” Celebrity Baby Boom”, and if you haven’t got a designer bump, then you, dear friend, are not in the club.

And what a club it is! There’s Sadie Frost, with her tummy hanging out the bottom of her T-shirt. And why if it isn’t Sarah Jessica Parker walking in New York with her latest must-have accessory.

And Sharleen Spiteri is not just big in Glasgow but is equally rotund in London and pretty much everywhere else she dares to go. And who could fail to recognise Natasha, er, thingymabob from Atomic Kitten?

Look, there’s good old Natalie doing the thing with Francis de la Tour and the other member of Atomic Kitten.

So come on, girls, get out there and get pregnant. And if you can’t find a willing man, have a word with Darren Day’s agent.

Posted: 9th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


On The Homefront

‘ONE man who already has children who call him dad is Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen.

Anyone would be proud to call Laurence ”dad”

No, it’s true, and to prove it OK! has been along to see the little loves actually admit on camera that Laurence is their papa.

For the occasion, Laurence dresses in refreshing white, and then wears a pink and blue shirt to dance and skip on the sands near his Cornish cottage, where he lives with his wife.

Yes, wife, as in woman who has his children. And there she is, snuggling up to her man. And then they’re off, to clamber aboard Laurence’s boat, The Geisha Boy.

But soon it’s back to an evening round the fire, while she reads stories and Laurence prepares for his show, Homefront. Which is something we couldn’t make up…

Posted: 9th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Oprah’s Bigger Than Ever

‘PHEW! This week’s (pant) celebrity issue of National Enquirer is (woo) a really heavy (puff) read. But we’ve made it back from the newsagents at no more expense to you, but at great cost to our backs, to tell you what’s what.

A river runs through it

And what’s a lot of what is that Oprah Winfrey has just hit the scales at a ”deadly” 19 stone. In American that’s 278 lbs, and in anyone’s language, that’s big.

And the Enquirer had the pictures to prove it. Oprah’s face is seen as ”puffy and full of ripples”, which makes for an interesting, calming effect when she moves but a less than beautiful mug shot.

But Oprah is battling to put the weight behind her (that which is not already there on her burgeoning backside) and has taken to jogging.

Perhaps as she moves, make that ripples, through the Hawaiian paradise she could spur herself on by telling herself that her ass is after her.

”Got to get away from the ass,” pants Oprah as she pushes herself a yard further into her fitness regime. ”The ass is gonna get me. Must…escape…the…ass…”

But the head that’s straining to move as far away from her relentless posterior as possible has changed so much that it might not in fact be Oprah Winfrey but someone else.

”Her face is swollen nearly beyond recognition,” says an ”inside source”. ”The flesh is bumpy with peaks and valleys.”

And no doubt has a river of sweat meandering thought it at the merest whiff of exercise.

But let’s do what her ass is doing and get behind Oprah. You can do it, girl, and if you can’t, your face sounds like an ideal place for a hike.

Posted: 5th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Butt And Ben

‘BUT back to bums, and so to the wedding of Jennifer Lopez and…Ben Affleck.

J-Lo cursed the day she started wearing padded knickers

Yes, that’s right, J-Lo has married again, just after her marriage to Cris Judd has ended. And the Enquirer was there to see the ”fairytale wedding”.

And all the usual suspects are on show. There are the ugly sisters, Leslie and Lynda, who made up two parts of the six-strong bridesmaid cheer team.

And there’s Matt ”Peter Pan” Damon on hand to give a best man’s speech and slap his thigh and shout ”Hurrah! at the top of his voice.

And… Oh, we’re halfway down the story and now the Enquirer tells us that Ben and Jen are only ”planning” to get married.

She’s not yet divorced from Cris Judd and any wedding can’t take place until the divorce is final, and that’s not until early next year.

And those guests are only in waiting and the likes of Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Ricky Martin and more are on the list but not yet in receipt of an invite.

Which gives plenty of time for Cinders to lose her shoes to another man.

Posted: 5th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


What A Pair!

‘BUT there was one wedding in town, and that was the matrimonial joining of ”Baywatch beauty” Yasmine Bleeth and ”Detroit club owner” Paul Cerrito.

Yasmine shows off her wedding dress

It was romance, romance, romance as the ”romantic” couple were ”transported” in a golf cart from the ceremony to their reception at the Bacara resort and Spa in Santa Barbara, California.

”Yasmine’s dress was breathtaking,” says one guest. ”Her hair was swept up into a gorgeous bun with an attached veil.”

And the sensations didn’t end there, as moments before the ceremony stunned guests were served lemonade and Italian soda.

Suitably intoxicated, Yasmine stepped down the aisle, heralded by the sounds of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game and taking care not to tread on the flower girl who went before her throwing orchid petals in her path.

And in a trice she was at the front, the music had stopped, the judge had said a few words, and Yasmine and Paul were married.

”Yesss! I finally did it,” said Paul in his new wife’s ear, and loud enough so the gusts and the Enquirer’s reporter could hear.

And with that another fairytale came to an end, and another Grimm story began.

Posted: 5th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Young Fogles

‘KINVARA Balfour is an aristocratic rebel. In the olden days, this normally involved raising an army and picking a fight with the King (or, failing that, another member of the aristocracy), preferably over religion.

Skye: where people go mad

These days, it involves ”baring almost all for a men’s magazine”, being shortlisted for Big Brother, doing a pilot for ”a dreadful TV dating show” and being invited to appear on Blind Date. And Kinvara – daughter of Lady Tessa Fitzalan-Howard (sister of the Duke of Norfolk) and Roddy Balfour (heir apparent to the Earl of Balfour) – has done the lot.

But it is not that, her old career as a freelance (read unemployed) journalist or her new career as an up-and-coming (read unemployed) actress that Hello! is interested in. It is her boyfriend, Castaway heartthrob Oliver Reed. Sorry, wrong Castaway. Actually, Kinvara is dating Ben Fogle, he of the Arran jumpers, Labrador dog and ‘Why can’t you go out with a boy like that, darling?’ manner.

Not just dating, she is in love and has been ever since their first date at 192 in Notting Hill. ”We sat down at 8pm and at 2am the waitress came to say ‘Sorry, it’s time to close’,” she tells Hello! ”We’ve been together ever since.” So how did Ben feel about Kinvara running off with the waitress? What? It’s Ben and Kinvara who are still together? Okay, now we understand.

”People think we spend our lives going to rent-a-crowd parties but that’s simply not what Ben and I do,” says Kinvara (clearly under the mistaken impression that anyone devotes a second’s thought to what her and Ben do). Okay, so now we’re curious. What do Ben and Kinvara do? ”We do mad things.” Of course, you do. But just how mad? Give us an example.

”To welcome in the New Year, we went to Skye and rented a cottage for ten days and just read books and made bread and took Inca [the Labrador] for walks,” Kinvara explains. ”There was no TV, no phone, no papers…and it was a lot of fun.” Wow, you kids, you’re just mad with a capital B-O-N-K-E-R-S.

Posted: 4th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Hello! And Goodbye To Lucy

‘YOU would have thought that madcap Kinvara and just-plain-nice (and there’s nothing wrong with being nice) Ben would have made it onto the cover of this week’s magazine.

Lucy manages to rein in her emotions

But you’d have been wrong. These days, one obscure soap star with no breeding whatsoever can trump generations of the Fitzalan-Howards – and it is Lucy Benjamin, EastEnders’ Lisa, who occupies the prime spot.

Except she is no longer EastEnders’ Lisa because she has been sacked – and what better way to cope with the trauma of being given the boot than to pour your heart out to Hello! In fact, Lucy has been carrying this round as a secret for the past two months, but the sight of Hello!’s proffered cheque book was enough to persuade her to unburden herself.

”It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach,” she says. ”I just sat there just trying to concentrate on not crying. I could feel my chin wobbling a bit and I sat there thinking to myself, ‘This is just a job, be brave, it’s fine, take it on the chin’.” But her chin was wobbling so much, this proved easier said than done and she ended up sobbing in the arms of on-screen boyfriend Steve McFadden.

But all is not lost – once a year, there is always pantomime and Lucy (one of the country’s most talented actresses) has already signed up to play Cinderella in Tunbridge Wells (book early to avoid disappointment). And, as her brother Ben said when Lucy told him she was leaving the BBC soap, ”Thank God for that, you might get sane now”.

The world really doesn’t have room for all these mad, mad people.

Posted: 4th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


State Of The Union

‘AND you can bet it’s mad, mad, mad behind the scenes at Popstars: The Rivals, which is where Hello! is rummaging around this week. Maddest of all is that ”pop icon” Geri Halliwell, one of the judges of the show, is turning into Dougal The Dog from The Magic Roundabout.

Will the flag ever again run up the flagpole that is Geri?

But even madder than that – and we’re so mad here at Anorak that we can be madder than mad – are the people auditioning. Like Essex-based Sarah Besley, who burst into the auditions wearing a Union Jack dress a la Ginger Spice. ”Geri is my idol,” she explained. ”It was my mum’s idea and I had to do something to get Geri’s attention.”

Flashing her breasts always worked for your idol, but we find the best way to get Geri’s attention these days is simply to whistle.’

Posted: 4th, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Baby Talk

‘ELIZABETH Hurley may be using the tabloids as a platform for her law-and-order demands – more bobbies on the beat, etc – but when it comes to OK! she has a different agenda.

”Damn! I can’t get enough of this Cow & Gate stuff”

And fortunately for the magazine, this agenda fits in nicely with its own obsession: babies.

”I love ironing romper suits,” she trills. ”I didn’t even know I had an iron!”

And that’s not all. ”I didn’t know I liked changing nappies,” she continues, referring presumably to those worn by her four-month-old son Damian.

”I love sterilising bottles. It’s a remarkable feeling. I love it. All I want to talk about is my baby.”

And even Matthew Perry is talking about him too. Hurley’s Serving Sara co-star ”responded with wit worthy of his alter ego, Chandler Bing” to rumours that he is the father of Hurley’s pride and joy.

”I must be pretty good to get a woman pregnant without sleeping with her,” he laughed. Or without her noticing.

Posted: 3rd, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Virgin On The Ridiculous

‘THE legend of Queen Britney continues to unravel. ”Who cares if I had sex? It’s nobody’s business,” says the former cheerleader for celibacy.

”Sex and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll…”

Nor does her parents’ divorce seem to have upset the famous role model, who describes it as ”the best thing that ever happened to my family”.

She also admits to smoking and drinking – having repeatedly cautioned her fans to abstain from both vices.

Then there was the Mexico City incident, when Britney gave the audience at her concert what appeared to be an obscene gesture and abandoned the stage during a thunderstorm.

Recent press stories have alleged that the real reason for her departure was a diarrhoea attack caused by excessive use of laxatives for slimming purposes, but OK! makes no mention of it. Or does it?

”Britney refuses to surrender her throne,” it states in uncharacteristically gnomic fashion.

Posted: 3rd, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Bangers And Mash

”’CAR-MAD David Beckham has just added another top-of-the range model to his collection,” gushes OK!

”And I think one of these would like nice in your drive, Mr Beckham…”

”The new supercharged Ford Harley-Davidson F-150 pickup truck joins the likes of his Mercedes-Benz, two Ferraris and his beloved Bentley Arnage.”

Apparently, Beckham told staff at Old Trafford that the left-hand-drive truck was built for ”stylish utility” rather than extravagance.

OK! reports that Manchester City’s Nicolas Anelka has bought a black Cadillac Escalade similar to Beckham’s truck, while David’s new team-mate Rio Ferdinand prefers a ”gleaming” Aston Martin Vanquish.

All very interesting, to be sure. But of Roy Keane’s latest purchase – half a dozen top-of-the-range Centurions with 105mm L7A2 guns – there is strangely no mention.

Posted: 3rd, September 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Cheesed Off

‘THE WORLD’S richest vagrant is getting it in the neck again from the Enquirer.

”Would you like cheese with that, sir?”

We have noted before how Brad Pitt’s appearance increasingly resembles that of a down-and-out ”street person”. Now the fragrant Jennifer Aniston is getting in his face – or at least, she would be if she could reach it through his beard.

The beard is described as ”horrible” by an ”eyewitness”, and we have no reason to doubt them. ”Jennifer can’t stand the face fur,” says a ”friend”. ”It irritates her skin when they make love.”

He has other faults, too, such as dressing in the same clothes day after day, which offends Aniston, ”a clean-freak who loves to take scented baths”. Lately she has been encouraging Brad to take them with her, apparently.

Then there is Brad’s fondness for pigging out on junk food like Taco Bell, Domino’s Pizza, Twizzlers, Frosted Flakes, Mountain Dew, ice cream, and of course beer (eight Ace, presumably).

But it is in this respect that the beard comes in handy for Jen. She has put Brad on a low-fat diet, so when he came home one night with ”some strange guck stuck to his beard” she was able to examine it with a magnifying glass and had no trouble detecting the tell-tale signs of burrito bingeing.

”That’s Taco Bell CHEESE!” she shrieked triumphantly (according to Lycia Naff’s forensically researched column). ”Well, from now on your beard will be my diet police. I’ll always know when you’re cheating on me!”

Cheating on Jennifer Aniston with a burrito? How low can a man go?

Posted: 30th, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Bam Ham Slam – Thank You, Ma’am

‘BRAD should take a leaf out of Sly Stallone’s book – now there’s a guy who knows how to please a woman.

Sensitive, articulate, refined

When not beating his meat in an abattoir as Rocky or hiding behind bushes as Rambo, the Italian Stallion was living up to his name in the bedroom of former supermodel Janice Dickinson.

For a start his arms were ”massive – bigger than Christy Turlington’s thighs” (and bigger than Charles Hawtrey’s too, we might add).

Not only that, but he would say ”bam ham slam” after sex – presumably working on lines for his next silver-tongued cinematic role. For he had a winning way with words, despite his rudimentary vocabulary.

”Say nice things about me,” he told her, ”and I’ll say nice things about you.” And she does – in her new book No Lifeguard on Duty: The Accidental Life of the World’s First Supermodel.

Pity Warren Beatty didn’t come to the same arrangement…

Posted: 30th, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Rooms For Rent

”’WANNA SLEEP IN MICK’S BED?” enquires the Enquirer, above a picture of the wrinkly rocker.

Man of mystique with a place on Mustique

Er… not really, no, but what is the relevance of this line of enquiry? It’s news because Old Rubber Lips is renting out his ”fabulous six-bedroom oceanfront villa on the isle of Mustique” for the very reasonable price of between $13,000 and $16,000 a week.

Other stars currently offering their beds are Randy Travis ($9,000 – $12,000), Jane Seymour ($23,000), and Harrison Ford and Sting (no prices provided).

Or for those on a more modest budget, there’s Brad Pitt’s crash pad, at the South Central Homeless Community Center, which is free to all those able to prove hardship.

(NB: beards will be inspected for food particles as part of the rigorous means-testing door policy.) ‘

Posted: 30th, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Lest We Forget

‘IT’S that time of the year again when, on the anniversary of her death, Hello! mourns the loss of its favourite cover girl and tries to boost circulation by publishing yet more tributes to Diana, Princess of Wales.

Di was about to sign for Aston Villa when she was tragically killed

Five years after her tragic discovery that chauffeured Mercedes and Paris tunnels are not a good combination, the magazine takes a look at the ”lasting legacy” of our sorely-missed Queen of Hearts.

Royal historian and biographer Robert Lacey remembers the ”scornful” tabloid headline, ”Di’s Leg-Over”, with ”yet another set of snaps of the Princess cavorting in a bathing suit with Dodi Fayed” and ”posing provocatively on a diving board, canoodling with her boyfriend on an open deck”.

Not everyone remembers her so fondly, however. ”I thought she was going bonkers,” one respected royal correspondent recalls.

But the terrible events of August 31, 1997, altered all our opinions forever. ”From the grief and shock at the senseless death of a beautiful young woman” – so much more shocking and senseless than the death of, say, an elderly hag – ”emerged St Diana, ‘the People’s Princess’, beacon of all that was heroic and humane”.

”Death gave shape and meaning to a life that had been losing its way,” notes Mr Lacey – and how.

It’s not everyone who could make it from royal pariah to national treasure, martyr and icon in one simple step, and surely premature death was but a small price for Diana to pay for so successful a rehabilitation.

Posted: 28th, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Her Light Shines On

‘ALTHOUGH she plagued her royal relations when she was alive, in death Diana is the biggest asset the Windsors have, and her influence is still being felt today.

Di’s friends remember her as she would have wanted

”Would the Golden Jubilee have been such an open, inclusive and adventurous series of happenings if it had not been for Diana?” asks Robert Lacey. ”Would we have seen Brian May on the roof of Buckingham Palace or Hell’s Angels in The Mall?”

Such things can only reflect well on the monarchy, and on British society as a whole – and we have Diana to thank for them.

Because, as Mr Lacey writes, ”we finally have a royal family who express their feelings about people, not just horses and royal yachts”.

Their feelings during the Party in the Palace might have been ”Anyone found here past midnight will be shot”, but at least they let the rabble in for a few hours.

Aside from opening up the Windsors’ emotional floodgates, Diana made another vital contribution to the Royal Family, being instrumental in producing its only two vaguely good-looking members.

”Diana’s abiding legacy is there for us all to see – in her sons,” reads Hello!’s headline.

”William and Harry carry with them their mother’s looks, along with aspects of her character and spirit, wherever they go,” writes the BBC’s royal correspondent Jennie Bond.

But there is another – ”unwelcome” – legacy of Diana’s death – Harry’s ”periodic falls from grace”.

”His liking for a few too many drinks and his confession about dabbling in drugs could stem from an adolescence spent without his mother to watch over him.”

And no amount of regal relatives, policemen and bodyguards, crazed female fans or members of the British media can ever watch over him like a mother could.

Posted: 28th, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Pain In The Arse

‘IT’S not every fairytale that ends happily ever after, even if your names aren’t Charles and Diana.

”Ouch! I felt a little prick”

And we should pity poor newlyweds Kym Marsh and Jack Ryder who, Hello! is sorry to tell us, were forced to abandon their honeymoon because of an unexpected drama.

Following the obligatory ”fairytale” nuptials, the pair ”endured a horror honeymoon, forcing them to cut short their holiday by a week”.

Kidnapped from the island of Corfu by a religious extremist group, Lawn Bowlers For Jesus, Kym and Jack were robbed, beaten and had their eyebrows shaved off.

They were then shut in a bar that only served alcopops and had Hear’Say playing on a continuous loop, while extortionate ransom demands were made to their families.

Actually, none of that is true. The honeymoon ”had started off promisingly as the couple soaked up the sun beside the pool at their private villa” on Corfu.

”Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when, within the first few days, Kym, 26, was stung on the bottom by a wasp which left her in such pain that she was unable to sit down.”

Kym and Jack are currently receiving counselling, and will no doubt share their horrifying ordeal with the world in a special lift-out in next week’s Hello!

Posted: 28th, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


The Comfi-Slax King

‘THIS story is brought to you by the makers of Comfi-Slax, the adjustable trousers for men of stature.

Dad?

We are proud to announce our association with Peter ”Big Elvis” Vallee, the 550lb Elvis impersonator who has been treading – and breaking – the boards for more than 20 years, delighting young and old alike with his brand of heavyweight hits.

The stage rocks and Vallee rolls as he sings his song about pork-and-greens, invites us to a Clambake, and implores us not to step on his blue suede colostomy bag. Shut your eyes and you could be listening to The King himself, twenty-five years on.

And Vallee has an interesting theory as to the source of his talent. He believes it’s hereditary. ”My mother told me she had an affair with Elvis in 1964, right around the time I was conceived,” he says. ”She never had a paternity test done, so it’s possible that I could be Presley’s illegitimate child.”

Anything’s possible, of course, but we can think of other likely candidates. Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott, for example, was working as a ship’s steward at the time, and we feel sure that not every unattached female customer from the Americas would have been able to resist his silver-tongued charm. ‘

Posted: 23rd, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Snapping Out Of It

‘THERE are many ways to approach Michael Jackson’s nose. Iconic object, medical curiosity, aesthetic statement…

Is his nose out of joint?

One thing we can all agree on, however, is that it is a delicate creation, and should be handled with care.

Its fragility was demonstrated at one of Michael’s recent concerts, when he accidentally yanked off a nostril, sending it flying into the lap of a lucky fan in one of the front rows.

No doubt such items are available for sale on the internet to those in the know. So it is disturbing to read in the Enquirer of an incident during a lunch that Jacko recently had with singer Denise Rich and a group of assorted music moguls.

”His eyes were rolling back in his head as if he was totally out of it,” says ”an observer”. ”The only way of getting his attention was to snap your fingers in front of his face.”

Can this be true? Surely the last thing one should do when dealing with the King of Pop is snap your fingers in his face. This kind of thing could trigger a facial avalanche, with eyelids, nostrils, lips and earlobes all over the shop.

No, the correct way to elicit a response is to approach slowly, and whisper, ”Mr Jackson, ET will see you now”. Jacko’s eyes will then roll back into their correct position, and sparkle delightedly.

He should then be lifted carefully, placed in his perspex bubble and rolled gently away, taking care to avoid any steep bumps in the carpet.

Posted: 23rd, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment


Daddy’s Girl

‘THE KING of Pop was once married to Lisa Marie Presley, daughter of the King of Rock.

Nic battles pre-wedding jitters in his special wedding jumpsuit

Exactly what went on in that particular marriage is a secret that only Bubbles the Monkey and one or two other trusted friends of Jacko will ever know. But we can surmise that it was unorthodox, even by the standards of American celebrity.

Now Lisa Marie has married again, in what the Enquirer calls a ”fairy-tale wedding”, although this time the phrase is used figuratively, which is not always the case when Michael Jackson is involved.

”If only my daddy was here,” said Lisa-Marie – a sentiment with which her new hubby would concur. For he is actor Nicolas Cage, who just happens to be an Elvis obsessive, and has memorably impersonated The King on film.

Nothing unusual about that, of course: after all, Liza Minnelli recently married a long-standing bachelor whose apartment includes a shrine to her mother, Judy Garland.

Only a sicko would think there was anything strange about a man who carried one of Elvis’s rings in his pocket while marrying the man’s daughter, and wore a rhinestone jumpsuit to the reception afterwards.

Then again, there are a lot of sickos out there…

Posted: 23rd, August 2002 | In: Reviews | Comment