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.
Phil Her Up
‘IN more genteel times, the worst thing you could expect to see in a car park was a badly executed three-point-turn.
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| Ruff stuff |
Nowadays, youd better have your wits about you lest a randy, clearly aroused soap star mistakes you for a fellow dogger and start jumping up and sniffing your hatchback.
This is the news in the Sun, where the paper tells us that EastEnders actor Steve McFadden gets his kicks from taking part in dogging, the perverted sex craze.
For this revelation we have Angela Bostock to thank. Shes McFaddens ex-lover, the mother of his two children and the women who tells us how the actor once demanded she have oral sex through a car door with a stranger.
While we wince at the painful consequence of a sudden gush of wind pushing said car door closed, Bostock decides that her mouth is, perhaps, best used for talking.
Steve loved dirty old men watching us having sex in car parks, says she. It disgusted me and terrified me but he told me it was normal and that if we didnt do it he couldnt guarantee staying faithful to me.
So off they went, touring the highways and byways on the prowl for other doggers.
But you might have missed Steve because he allegedly wore a spiky blonde pantomime wig, glasses and spoke in a fake Irish accent. This, as the paper tells us, was so he wouldnt get recognised by fans – presumably these are fans of EastEnders and not fellow fans of dogging.
They went to car parks off the A3, to Epping Forest, dallied in dogger friendly bits of the New Forest, in service stations and at least once toured the continent on a romantic dogging mini-break to Paris.
The Sun tells us that Steve and Angela also used to go dogging in Borehamwood, Hertfordshire, close to the EastEnders set a claim that invokes an image of the shows cast members all dressed up in ridiculous pantomime outfits, spouting absurd accents and shoving fleshy things (also disguised with wigs and moustaches) through car windows and up exhausts.
Its like the plot of a bad movie or a yet-to-be-told modern and challenging soap storyline…’
Breast Of British
‘WHEN Orlaith teetered away from the Big Brother house she knew that each step would take her ever closer to fulfilling her dream of appearing topless on the Suns Page 3.
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| Orlaith – a cocktail of E numbers and additives |
Now she who dared has achieved her lifes ambition and today Sun readers can see the Belfast-born Big Brother bottler showing the world her outrageously pert 30E falsies.
I just love my boobs and call them my little babies, says Orlaith. But I never expected to have the best-known pair in the country.
And thats good because Orlaiths surgically-enhanced talents arent the best known pair in the land, that honour going to her former Big Brother agonist Craig, who has the kind of chest a pre-op Orlaith must have fantasised about.
But the bigger shock is that Orlaith doesnt use her elevated position to tell us what she thinks of the Suns SAVE OUR JUGS campaign.
The story so far is that po-faced EU killjoys have ordered our barmaids to stop wearing low-cut tops when they go outside to serve beer and collect glasses in case they contract skin cancer.
So the Sun has lined up seven pneumatic pint pourers and induced them to show their doubles as they lean towards the snappers lens.
Amazingly, the Sun looks up long enough to notice that the girls have mouths and hears what the likes of blonde Louise (34D) has to say They cant make people cover up. Its how we get tips. If I covered up Id be skint.
Tash, a 30E, puts things in a global perspective when she says: With all that is going on at the moment, I dont think this issue should be foremost in their minds.
Which it wouldnt be if the girls just covered up…’
Shore Things
‘WHAT will you be reading on the beach next year?
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| A Harry Potter fan |
A copy of the Star and tearing yourself away from looking at real babes on the beach to looking at pictures of babes on the beach in front-page splashes like todays Page 3 on holiday?
A copy of Harry Potter And The Adult Literacy Class, pre-wrapped for all over-18s in a brown paper cover to avoid anyone assuming that you are a) a Satanist, b) a paedophile researching material to use on children in the nearest amusement arcade, or c) a trendy parent trying to be your kids best mate.
Or what about Guilty As Sin, Free As A Bird, juror Eleanor Cooks story of her time on the Michael Jackson trial?
Or The Deliberator, Ray Hultmans version of events inside the Santa Monica courthouse where Jackson stood accused of molesting one Gavin Arvizo, before being cleared on all counts?
But if reading is not your thing, the Mails other news is that a film of Miss Cooks book is already in the pipeline.
And that could be good news for Jackson. The paper says hes financially ruined and hed surely relish the chance to earn a few bob playing himself in any film of his trial.
Unless the films producers offer the part to Elizabeth Taylor, Bubbles, Gary Glitter…’
Law’s An Ass
‘IF Jude Law was concerned about being the most hated man in Britain when news of his affair with nanny Daisy Wright emerged two weeks ago, he should be really worried now.
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| Jude the insecure |
For not only did he cheat on English rose Sienna Miller Has she not fragrance? Has she not elegance? Has she not boho chic? but he apparently did so while she was pregnant.
The 23-year-old actress is said to have discovered that she was expecting a little love rat just days before she found out that her fiance was a bigger love rat.
That at least is the claim of Star magazine, a supermarket tabloid in the US with even less of a reputation for truth than its namesake on this side of the Atlantic.
Nevertheless its a claim that is spurious enough for the British Star to report as fact.
It tells its readers how the couple had even discussed names for the baby, how Judes betrayal had left Sienna devastated at the prospect of life as a single mum and how she has vowed never to get back with the man who broke her heart.
The Sun is a bit more circumspect, employing the journalists favourite ruse for reporting wild and almost certainly unfounded rumours like these the rhetorical question.
Is Sienna pregnant? asks its front page to which the correct answer on the part of the papers readership is: You tell us. Youre the newspaper, arent you?
Inside, things become no clearer as the paper talks to one of Siennas friends who says: If she is pregnant, we dont know about it.
However, the Sun insists that, bun or no bun, a reconciliation between Miller and the man who will forever merit the tabloid epithet love rat is on the cards.
Jude is doing everything he can to prove to her how committed he is to their future, a pal says.
And he has told her hes like to have a family with her.
As long as he gets to choose the nanny…’
Breast Is Best
‘THE votes are in, the ballot papers have been counted and the result is…women should get their boobs out on the beach this summer.
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| Charlotte Church tries to stick to the letter of the EU Optical Radiation Directive |
The Star readership has not just spoken, it has shouted – with a massive 87% voting for brave British beach babes to defy the mobile camera pests and CARRY ON TOPLESS.
They included red-blooded men like law student Dan Jewell, who says: I dont understand why people have a problem going topless.
He clearly hasnt met 27-year-old retail manager Martin Sheekey, who says taking snaps of girls boobs is all part of the fun.
At Tenerife, a load of lads took pictures of the girls in the pool, he reports.
And breasts are to the fore over in the Sun, which has this morning finally woken up to the dangers posed by the EU Optical Radiation Directive (or tan ban, as its known).
The paper launches a SAVE OUR JUGS campaign against the po-faced penpushers who have ordered barmaids to cover up their cleavage if they go outside to collect glasses for fear of getting skin cancer.
What exactly does the campaign involve? Employing expensive lobbyists to try to get the ban revoked? Delivering a petition of a million signatures to Brussels? A campaign of civil disobedience?
No, instead the Sun wants its readers to send in snaps of busty barmaids who could be hit by the ban.
Well print the best, it promises, and make a plaster cast of the winners boobs to hang in your local.
As a reminder that therell always be an England…’
Model Behaviour
‘IN the Suns front-page diatribe against LAWLESS BRITAIN, it omitted the single biggest contributor to the nations rap sheet Naomi Campbell.
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| Naomi leads the ‘no’ campaign |
Working as PA to the spoilt model has long been considered among the most dangerous jobs in the country, but now it seems that being her friend is a perilous occupation as well.
Ask Yvonne Scio, who claims she was left bleeding heavily from a split lip after being punched and kicked in the face by her 34-year-old pal.
Yvonnes crime? Arriving late in an outfit that was too skimpy for Naomis taste.
Naomi started to insult me, calling me all the names under the sun, the Mirror alleges she told police. So to calm her down I went to get changed and put on a pair of jeans.
As soon as I went back into her suite, without saying a word, she launched herself at me with kicks and punches to my head and face.
Campbell denies that she used physical violence, with a spokesman claiming only that there had been a disagreement in which she told Miss Scio that she was very disappointed at her behaviour and that she should go now.
Presumably in those exact words…’
Double Dutch
‘THERE is no doubt as to the identity of the proudest woman in Britain this morning.
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| ‘Sixty-six. Clickety-clicks!’ |
No, its not kinky Kinga Karolczak, Big Brothers buxom new inmate who marked her arrival in the house in time-honoured fashion by whipping out her 44FF breasts for the Star.
Nor is it busty Anorak favourite Kerry Katona, who shows that you cant keep a good woman down at least not one with such excellent buoyancy aids – by signing a £500,000 deal to launch a new internet bingo game.
And its not even Nancy dellOlio, the first name on Svens team-sheet, and this morning pictured in the Mail emerging from the Sardinian surf like Ursula Andress in Dr No.
All of them admittedly heroines in their own way, but none of them can hold a candle to a certain Mrs Barton.
The mother of nasty little scrote and sometime Manchester City footballer – Joey Barton has yet more cuttings for the family album today with the news that her other son Michael is wanted in connection with the race-hate murder of Anthony Walker.
The Sun says police have named the 18-year-old as one of two men they want to speak to about the horrific axe killing in a Liverpool park.
However, it appears that Barton Junior is not so keen to speak to them, with fears that somehow he and pal Paul Taylor have managed to evade Britains tight border controls and flee to Holland.
After the recent escape of London suicide bomb suspect Hussein Osman to Italy, this will no doubt come as a further embarrassment to the Government.
Defence secretary Geoff Hoon has already announced that he is looking at ways to strengthen the ring of steel around this island nation.
One suggestion is to close the fast-track service for bombers, axe murderers and general neer-do-wells, and make them queue up like everyone else…’
Red Letter Daze
‘ANYONE who has ever watched BBC2s Dragons Den, the programme in which would-be entrepreneurs are patronised by smug millionaires, will know Rachel Elnaugh.
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| ‘You’re not having any of my money, so there!’ |
Shes the one who sits on the end and tells the inventor of a new umbrella for dogs that shes not going to invest in his company because I dont like you or because your nose is too big or because your shirt is too red.
The truth, however, is that Miss Elnaugh isnt going to be investing in anyones company anytime soon because her own company Red Letter Days has gone belly-up.
The Mail says hundreds of people have been told that their dream trips and days out have been cancelled after the firm collapsed with debts of £12m.
As well as a humiliating blow and the ultimate come-uppance for Rachel, the paper says news is an embarrassment for the BBC.
The corporations Dragons Den website, it says, lauds her company as a model for a new wave of British entrepreneurs.
The 40-year-old has even had to resort to pitching the concern to Peter Jones, the founder of a £300m telecoms business and one of her unbearably smug fellow panellists on the show.
His response?
Good luck, mate, because youre going to need it. Thats the most ridiculous business idea Ive ever heard. Look, Ive got a lot more money than you…’
Football’s Striker
‘CONGRATULATIONS to the pneumatic Keeley on winning the Suns Page 3 Idol competition.
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| Sheryl and Gazza in happier times |
Seven months ago I was a nobody, says Keeley, 18, whos now a somebody, with a body she likes to flash at snappers. My life has been transformed by the Sun. People now recognise me in the street.
How great it must be to have Sun readers who lap up Page 3 with their morning cuppas approach you and say Phwoarr! as you walk the streets of your native Kent.
But better than Keeleys elevation to the ranks of eternally 24-year-old Zoe and busty Nikki is the news that normal service has been resumed. After weeks of bombs, mayhem and terror, we now can relax a little and enjoy Keeley, a girl who makes us all proud to be British.
And what of those front-page stories on this joyous day? Well, the Express must be exhausted after spending hours working out how the London bombs have affected house prices in the Midlands and takes a day off by saying: DIANA WAS PREGNANT.
Thats not the Suns Page 3 Idol contestant Dishy Diana from Dawlish, but our very own clean-living and chaste Princess Diana, who was, apparently, with child at the time of her death.
But the bigger story, bigger than the Mails lead on how 18-year-old Anthony Walker was murdered with an axe because he was black, is on the Suns cover. Thereon we learn: GAZZA BEAT UP FAMILY.
The amazing story is that not only do we still know who Gazza is former England footballer Paul Gascoigne, of course but that he once punched his step-son so hard the little lad puked.
For this revelation we have Masons sister Bianca to thank. To the outside world, we were living a fairytale lifestyle, says she. But the reality was the living hell of emotional and physical abuse.
And we read that Gazza, who infamously hit their mum Sheryl, also picked on the boy, then aged seven, now 15.
If true, this is an awful and depressing tale. And it would not have come to light had Gazza got his way and had the story banned. He is doing everything in his power to stop me speaking out, says Bianca.
Although Gazzas waning powers are clearly not up to the job, and we can see blondish Bianca and hear her words. And if you miss this big story, dont worry because this is: STORY GASCOIGNE TRIED TO BAN DAY 1.
How many more days we have to endure this harrowing tale for is not told. But, sadly, the only things that can stop it or at least push it back from the front page are more bombs, more horror or pictures of Keeley in a burka…’
Cheeky Girl
‘WHOS that blonde kissing David Beckham in the Mirror? Why, its none other than Julie from Suffolk, planting a smacker on the footballers cheek as he leaves a London eatery.
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| Arduum sane munus |
The paper looks on as Julie, in town to celebrate her 38th birthday, threw her left arm around Day-vids neck and had him in a grip he could not get out of.
As an eyewitness says: Victoria did not say a word but her frown said it all. Says an onlooker: Victoria had a face like thunder. She was fuming.
While football watchers wonder what would have occurred had middle-aged Julie been armed with a bomb, or thrown herself at Wayne Rooney, the Mail notices something odd in the Beckham car.
As the couple left the restaurant, and while Julie was attracting the attention of the Mirror, Dave and Posh, the Mail peered into the Beckham motor.
And it noticed how the Beckhams have had their own coat of arms, the one commissioned for their wedding in 1999, stitched onto the leather headrests of their luxury limousine.
For its readers aggrandisement, the paper reproduces the family crest, which shows a white swan sitting atop a crown. Beneath hangs the motto Love, Friendship.
As with modern football, the Beckhams have steered away from the old Latin mottos in favour of a language that can be more easily understood beyond the Latin confines of the Catholic clergy and prep schools.
But not all is modern and voguish, and William Hunt, an expert in matters heraldic at the College of Arms, says the design is bad. The use of letters and numbers hasnt been done since the Middle Ages.
And those letters? Why, a V followed by a D, naturally fitting for any royal seat…’
An Ill Wind
‘THE Suns front page seems to have provided an answer to the question as to whether or not the London bomber caught in Birmingham planned to blow up a part of Britains second city.
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| Death to Renault 5s |
The picture of Birmingham reveals a scene of mass destruction. Roofs have been ripped off a swathe of houses. Entire floors have collapsed. Debris lies strewn about the place.
But this is no terrorist atrocity. Its the weather thats wreaked havoc, as the Sun watches a tornado hit the city.
Its BRUMS RUSH inside the paper, as a 130mph twister hit. Terrified residents ran for safety as tiles, bricks and glass also spun murderously through the air, writes the paper excitedly.
The winds left the area in the suburbs of Kings Heath, Sparbrook and Small Heath looking like a war zone says the Sun. It was like a scene from War of the Worlds, says eyewitness Arjun Thakra. Windows were popping like champagne corks, cars were levelled like butter, says he.
It does sound pretty awful, and its worse on the Mails front page, where the winds, now cranked up to a whopping 136mph, brought terror to Birmingham. On pages 2 and 3, readers get to learn of the tornado that blew away Brum.
Only it did not. And pictures of damaged houses (houses of horror), a collapsed wall (like a war zone) and a car under a tangle of fallen tree branches (buried) display less a missing city and more a paper in full hyperbolic mode.
Sure the storm was strong, but no-one was badly hurt or killed. Reading these reports its as if the papers language has been affected by the continual talk of bombers and terrorists high on vitriol.
You half expect a Muslim cleric with bad teeth and thick-glass spectacles to pop up and tell us that this is Gods will and how the thirty houses badly damaged in Ladypool Road, Sparbook, are just the start of things.
But no. All we get is one man telling the Express that in looking at the tornado you realise why they call it the finger of God.
Who they are we dont know. And the only finger of God most of us are familiar with is the one that comes from out of a cloud on a TV advert to tell us that weve won the National lottery.
Indeed, what they, being the papers, usually call such freakish weather is Mother Nature gone mad! – as it would have been before the bombers struck…’
Just Desserts
‘THE Sun says that Johnny Depp, star of the movie Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, loves sticky toffee pudding. He just cant get enough.
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| ‘Oompa Loompa doompadee doo, I’ve got a gin and tonic for you’ |
I love sticky toffee pudding from London, says Depp. In some cruel way Ive become dependent on it.
Oh dear. Depp had best take care. Its a slippery slope from London sticky toffee pudding, and soon Depp could be munching on a sticky toffee pudding from Essex, sticky toffee pudding from Belfast and wind up sitting in his stained vest on a sink estate eating sticky toffee pudding from Glasgow.
But at least is he does get hungry, hes able to turn to his Oompa Loompa sidekick, the celebrity chef Antony Worrell Thompson, and invite him to whip up his favourite dessert.
And there is Thompson in the Express, seen suitably attired in chefs whites, whipping up something creamy in a metal bowl.
And he stops to tell us that when dining out we should watch what we eat.
For instance, gin and tonic is not always what it claims to be, and Wozza says that when he was young waiter he noted how the customer was given just tonic and the rim of the glass was rubbed with gin.
Other dodges of the catering game are revealed by the likes of Gordon Ramsay, who tells us that describing fish as line caught gives the impression that it is wild, and so more expensive. But its just as likely to be inferior farmed fish, or f***ing farmed f*** fish, as Ramsay might put it.
So take care when eating out. That kebab may not be 100 per cent pure lamb. That alcopop may contain traces of colourful additives. And as for that jumbo sausage… Well, have you seen the chefs pet cocker spaniel recently..?’
Terrorist Charged
‘THE news is not unexpected: the terrorists who hit London twice planned to detonate more bombs in the capital.
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| Nailing the bombers |
DEATH IN A BOTTLE, says the Mails front page. This nail bomb is one of 16 lethal devices left in the terrorists hire car.
Its not instantly clear that the grainy image in shadowy black and white is a picture of one of the nail bombs. The object is grotesque in appearance, made up of what looks like an old-fashioned milk bottle with studs stuck on it and a straw poking out of the top.
But it is a bomb. Those are nails. And its a shot that appears again on the covers of the Express and Sun.
HORRIFIC, yells the Sun. And in case you are in any way unsure that a nail bomb presents a danger to your health, the Sun goes on: Studded with nails to rip us to bits, gang had 16 of these bombs in car boot.
Thats a pretty uncomplicated explanation of what a nail bomb can do.
And the paper sticks with simple things as it re-enacts the arrest of one of the four failed suicide bombers, Yasin Hassan Omar.
WEVE GOT HIM, says the paper triumphantly. Suspect zapped with 50,000 volts. (Omar was hit with a Taser stun gun.) Cop: I never saw anybody so scared.
Disappointingly, the Suns computer-generated images of events at the semi-detached house in Birmingham, where the law caught up with Omar, fail to show the fear etched on the mans face; but do reveal that he was barefoot and wearing a white vest and blue trousers when he was literally charged. He was also in the bathroom.
There was indeed, as the Mail says, DRAMA IN A BIRMINGHAM SUBURB. And this papers cartoonist has taken the trouble to show the pain and fear on Omars face, whos now dressed in grey pants, a blue top and wearing his trademark black rucksack.
What we are watching is THE SHOCKING POWER OF THE TASER, a firearm which the Mail thinks its important its readers know the workings of.
But theres no need to bother you with the details, and since this is the Internet, the threat that you will convert your water pistols and pipe bombs into one these devices is very real. So just know that the Blast causes intense pain.
Admittedly, Big electric shock hurts is not a sensational headline, but it should disturb the three bombers who remain at large, the person who made their bombs and they who shelter them…’
Profiling Terror
‘BY now, anyone reading the papers should have built up a pretty good profile of what an Islamic terrorist or a terror suspect looks like.
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| ‘It’s a signed photo of Paul Merson’ |
But the London four are moving targets, and while we remain vigilant, the Sun wants us to keep learning. And today we hear that London bomber Muktar Mohammed Said supported Arsenal football club just like Osama Bin Laden!
The clue was of course in the Arsenal nickname the Gunners but its easy to be wise, to see the clues, after the event.
And things do not end there. The paper tells its readers that Said served time in jail for being part of an Asian gang that used to mug people at knifepoint.
Whats more, at school, the Eritrean-born Said was a menacing, drug-smoking bully. He was, as the headline succinctly puts it: ROBBER, DRUGGIE, BOMBER.
Listing Saids life achievements in that order suggests they are on a path. Its like listening to a drugs czar who tells us that sniffing indelible pens in class leads to glue, leads to cannabis, leads to heroin, leads to addiction, leads to selling your granny for cash.
If so, where would Arsenal fit in? Somewhere between Robber and Druggie, or lower down the chain of descent?
And then, of course, there is the Internet. Forget for a moment paedophiles in chat rooms, porn at work and Cliff Richard fan sites and know that the web is a sink of rabid Muslim extremism.
And many jihadists may well be logging onto a site run by Saudi dissident Muhammad Al-Massari.
As the Express reports, his sites feature live decapitation, suicide bombings and language to mobilise young Muslims to wage holy war against the West.
There may even be a link to the official Arsenal website. But we havent looked because the sites are revolting and because our eyes have been attracted to a shot of Al-Massari holding hands with George Galloway MP in celebration of the laws decision to let him stay in the UK.
And then there are Al-Massaris glasses, or bins, as they are known among Londoners. They are of the type that magnify the eyes, making them appear huge and bulbous.
This might or might not be significant. We cannot be sure, and may only truly know with the benefit of hindsight. But like the papers, we think you should be aware of it.
So bear these things in mind as you remain vigilant. More to come tomorrow…’
Houses Of Windsor
‘IS Camilla being turned into the Queen Mum? asks the masthead atop the Mail.
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| Stick pins in your eyes…now! |
For added intrigue, there are accompanying shots of the dear old Queen Mum and Camilla each holding aloft a glass of beer.
Inside that paper, Christopher Wilson says that there is a campaign to characterise Camilla not as a successor to Diana but as a senior, benign and altogether more grounded individual.
How so? Screw up your eyes, says Wilson, suspend your disbelief and think Queen Mother!
Its true, looking through the wrinkled lids, Camilla could be the Queen Mum. And screwing them yet tighter, sees Camilla become all manner of swirls and pink dots. Stick your fingers in them hard and Camilla might even look like Diana.
And having stared so, youll think youre seeing double as you arrive at the Mails other Camilla story and spot a picture of Annabel Elliot, Camillas sister.
And Charles will be seeing lots more of Annabel who, as the paper says, has been employed as the interior designer for three of the Duchy of Cornwalls holiday homes.
Royal aides insist that Annabel was awarded the contract on merit. But Labour MP Ian Davidson, a member of the Commons public accounts committee, smells something fishier than the Queen Mum.
The first issue is the question of cronyism, says he. The award of contacts to your own relatives would not be acceptable in any local authority in the country.
He goes on: Its not just a lucrative contract being able to say, I do work for the Duchy of Cornwall gives you a certain social cachet.
But what of the work? Is it any good? Well, apparently it is. And the Mail tells us that Annabells work features cool, whitewashed walls and ceilings and country-style furnishing.
It looks pretty good. Although if its not to your taste, you can always down a pint of gin and look at it through squinted eyes…’
State Sponsored Terrorists
‘ITS a macabre game of one-upmanship in the papers today as the Mail and Sun vie to see who has the bigger headline.
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| Not wanted |
The Suns front-page headline, BOMBER IN BENEFITS, tells of how Somalian Yasin Hassan Omar, 24, one of the four men who tried to kill people in London last week, and now on the run, claimed £23,000 in housing benefits while living in a ninth-storey flat in Southgate, north London.
While social services and health organisations hold an ardent debate about whether living in high rise block of flats was the trigger for Omars murderous mania, the Mail announces: THE BOMBERS ON BENEFITS.
Its a subtle change but of tactical importance to the Mail. The paper says how Omar and Muktar Said Ibraihim entered this country as asylum seekers and were given a flat which they turned into a bomb factory.
But before we read how the two fugitives were just your everyday Muslim fanatics, the papers would like their readers to know a little about them.
Going with the Suns spelling of Ibrahim, the Express says how the man also known as Muktar Mohammed Said tried to blow up the No.26 double-decker bus in east London because he WANTS TO KILL ALL BRITONS.
The Mail wants us to know that the man so bad they named him thrice often played football with children from Arnos Park and Broomfield secondary school. We hear that Ibraihim had a mad tackle.
He went in hard, although to our knowledge, his on-field aggression never earned him a yellow card. Ibraihim might well be a murderous, narcissistic bastard but he played football within the rules.
And hear a resident of north London say that Omar was a very angry person. (Really?) He was a bit mad. (Only a bit!) At one point he showed me a picture of the Devil.
Whether this picture was a photo of Satan or a drawing in blood, water colour or crayon is not revealed. But we do hear the resident say that he had his suspicions about his neighbours. I have seen one or two videos of theirs which showed fighters.
And how amazing is that. No, not the bit about them being mad, or the part about them attending the mosque in Finsbury Park where mad mullah Abu Hamza preached – the bit about the video.
Yep! They were living the high life all right nine floors up with loadsa benefits, the latest gadgets and, very possibly, football boots…’
Love In Bloom
‘BLONDE Becky said she was glad heartbroken Sienna Miller had been comforted by Orlando Bloom. Says Becky, 24, from London: Hopefully these shots will show Jude what its like to see the one you love with someone else.
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| Miller in Bloom |
No, not this shot, the one of caring Becky standing topless in a bed of ferns and a pair of yellow knickers, but the Suns front-page picture of Sienna and Orlando leering into each others eyes.
There are more AMAZING PICTURES inside the Sun, where we see Orlando and Sienna snogging at a polo tournament in Windsor, Berkshire.
They spent ages cuddling, kissing and gazing at each other, says a source. There was real chemistry. Later, the couple met up again and sat with their legs entwined around each other.
The Mail has the same shots, and spots a clearly flustered Bloom race off to the lavatory where he spent 25 minutes preening his hair and testing his breath in front of the mirror.
Good luck to him with that. And good luck to Sienna, for whom life is returning to normal after being so cruelly cheated on by Jude Law.
Indeed, life is calming down for us all, what with Page 3 back and two celebs kissing in front of a crowd making the front pages.
Finally, we can look forward to getting on with our lives, and watching Siennas…’
A Family Do
‘UNPACK those pearly wedding hats viewers theres going to be another EastEnders wedding: Dennis has decided to make an honest woman out of his step-sister by marrying her.
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| ‘Is your plot as stale as mine?’ |
I dont wanna keep running [out of pies] any more, Dennis, Sharon told her fiancé/brother. Lets settle in Walford, she told him; four little words guaranteed to strike fear into anyones heart.
Two other people less than happy about Dennis and Sharons decision to stay in Londons cheeriest Borough are Chrissie and Pat: Pat, because Dennis had promised to sell the bookies to her and Chrissie because shes terrified that Dens Princess is going to do some digging perhaps quite literally and discover that her father is buried under the floor of the Queen Vic.
Chrissie is desperately trying to sell the Vic before anyone discovers her secret, and has roped in her dodgy solicitor pal Amanda into forging Dens signature. Kat is determined to make Chrissie pay for involving Zoe in her murderous plans.
Chrissies in luck, though, as Kats been distracted by her attempts to woo back Alfie, her estranged husband. In a hilarious storyline, Alfie had managed to arrange dates with both Kat and Little Mo on the same night. Not wanting to let either sister down, he dashed between the two houses and ate two dinners at the same time. He should have taken lessons from Sonia eating two dinners a night is about normal for her.
Alfie and Little Mo are trying to keep their budding romance a secret; so, of course, theyve been snogging on street corners in broad daylight. Ian spotted them together and has taken in upon himself to lecture Alfie on his morals this from a man whos slept with prostitutes and pretended his daughter had cancer to get someone to marry him. But I love em both, wailed Alfie, whos probably as sick of this ridiculous story line as everyone else. Just sort it, growled Ian, echoing the thoughts of us all.
Demi Millar is also having to make difficult choices in love. In a heart warming, updated take on Romeo and Juliet for these Chavtastic times, the 14-year-old mother of one has just discovered that her boyfriend and father of her daughter is about to be shipped off to Scotland. Weve gotta run away togefer, Leo told Demi. Weve got to get out of this place before it destroys our lives.
Out of the mouths of babes eh?’
Slap Happy
‘CHARLES Clarke will not be red faced while Britain copes with a security crisis. As the Mail explains, the Home Secretary has caved into growing pressure and decided to cancel his holiday to sunnier climes.
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| Too much concealer |
Speaking of his wife Carol and their two sons, Clarke says: We have a long-planned family holiday. I very much value my family holidays but I have decided to postpone my own departure on that holiday until I have looked at the situation in more detail and decided what is the best thing to do.
But as a few days of Clarkes summer getaway become the latest victims of the war on terror, the man may begin to worry.
The fear is that family man Clarke will look out of kilter with the rest of his brood when he finally joins them in Faliraki, or wherever theyve told him theyre going this year.
Lying by the pool, Clarke, a retina-scarring vision of expansive white skin and Westminster grey complexion, will clash horribly with his familys deliciously tanned bodies.
The new Labour project loves a united family, and in clashing with them, Clarke will not do his career any favours.
But help is at hand. Clarke can ready himself for the trip by asking to borrow some of the self-tanning creams Tony Blair appears to spread liberally all over his face.
As the paper says, the Prime Minister has spent nearly £1,800 of taxpayers money on make-up over the past six years. The annual expenditure on the PMs cosmetics has risen from £43.80 in 1999 to £340.02 a year later.
If this sounds a lot, it appears more so when the Mail reports that TAN-TASTIC TONY spends more per year on make-up than the typical British woman, who gets by on £195 a year.
And its not hard to see the effect the slap has had on Tonys face. While in 2001, he looked gaunt and pale, he has by 2005 mutated into a talking orange.
His face appears as a mask of bronzing powder, oil and lotion. And more concealer than is thought decent…’
Spins Of The Flesh
‘ITS a tentative step towards normality but after the return of Page 3 was delayed by more London bombers, the Sun introduces the world to Charlotte Churchs right breast and, if you stare hard enough, an accompanying hint of nipple.
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| We are not afraid |
Well done the Sun is showing the world that its not afraid to carry on in the face of so much terror.
And well done too to Church, who defiantly serves up her breast as a warning to all terrorists and religious fundamentalists who would have women trussed up in shapeless burkas. She for one will not be cowed.
And other papers are joining in the hunt for game meat.
Over in the Mail, with no sign of Liz Hurley to ogle, the paper travels up to Hampstead, London, and catches TV host Richard Madeley topless and wheeling his bike across a road.
The paper looks at Madeleys admirably trim body and notes how he cant resist sharing it with the rest of the world.
He has got excellent muscle definition and puts lots of men half his age to shame, says a captivated observer, although he seems to have a small paunch.
Or a Judy Finnegan, as it is most commonly known ’
Four Know
‘IF the terrorists intent is to create fear, can we really say we are beating them?
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| Have coffee will carry on |
BRITAIN WILL NOT BE BEATEN, says the Express. Its right. The terrorists have no chance of winning in any war. But we can still lose.
Take the Suns headline: 4 SUICIDE BOMBERS ON LOOSE. Can anyone read that and rest easy? No-one was injured as three attempted blasts created panic on the London Tube system and a small explosion rocked a bus, but they could have been.
The paper says passengers fled in panic, escaping with their lives because their would-be killers bombs failed to detonate properly.
This could give us some crumbs of comfort. Rather than being highly skilled bomb makers, these terrorists are so useless they were unable to even kill themselves.
Perhaps the authorities have already apprehended the master bomb maker, so leaving his stack of Mother of Satan explosives in the hands of someone not up to the task.
Perhaps, to borrow the invective of the Islamic extremists, God is not on their side and in His infinite wisdom put the mockers on his enemies plan to maim and murder.
In fleeing, these terrorists must have left clues that will prove invaluable in the fight against them. And so on
It all depends on how we react. Do we run in fear of our lives, or do we carry on, put this failed imitation of the attack of July 7 down to experience?
But just as the resolve to carry on returns, the Mail screams: I STARED INTO BOMBERS EYES. It goes on: With four failed suicide bombers on the run last night, a London Underground passenger told how he came face to face with one of them.
Its a compelling read, as Abisha Moyo hears a bang and turns to see a young man lying arms outstretched and eyes closed on top of his rucksack.
Inside the paper theres an artists impression of the scene at Oval Tube station as a skinny man, aged 18-19, with a wispy beard and holding a rucksack positions himself alongside a woman and her baby in a busy carriage.
Theres a pop from the mans rucksack. Then three men try to wrestle the bag off him. He escapes their clutches, leaving the bag on the train. He dashes up an escalator.
A florist manages to lay a hand on him, but the failed bomber evades the challenge and leaps the ticket barrier. He disappears into the crowd.
We should applaud the bravery of anyone who tried to stop him would you want to hold onto someone who in all likelihood had just tried to kill you or just be happy to see him go?
What will happen next? We dont know. So rather than fear the worst, lets consider some facts.
Some of us have had what one anti-terrorist officer calls a bloody lucky escape.
Four men high on religion are on the loose. Ten million Londoners and city workers are looking out for them. The people who gave them the bombs are looking for them. The armed forces are looking for them. The police are looking for them.
Hey, even London Underground is looking for the bomber who failed to produce a valid ticket at the barrier.
Which leads us to the question: who should be afraid? Us or them..?’
Dune & Dusted
‘DEPRIVED of Page 3 and thus from hearing what busty Nikki from Billericay thinks of bombs and if shes ever dated a Muslim, readers are forced to look elsewhere for flesh.
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| ‘Come quietly, sir, don’t let’s make this any harder than it need be’ |
And after a scour of the papers, we spot a nice shot in the Express of a topless copper walking along a beach and talking on his mobile phone.
Hes Chief Inspector Nick Maton. And no, hes not been caught with his top off on a webcam or advertising himself in the pages of an adult contact magazine; rather, hes been looking for people outraging public decency on a nudist beach in Dorset.
The plan is that Maton and his bevy of bikini-clad female officers and police trained hunks in trunks will blend in with the crowd on Studland beach and spot any perverts.
Maton says that in the past these perverts have hidden in the sand dunes and waited for couples to start having sex. Now, however, they are more overt and approach couples.
One naturist couple had written in the sand in front of them no pervs, so they wouldnt be approached. For people to need to do this is unacceptable.
So its uniforms off, truncheons waved and handcuffs at the ready to nab these perverts. Only where to grab them is a bone of contention ’
Making Waves
‘WHEN the film of the London bombs is made, you can expect it to focus on the lives of the murderers and not dwell too much on their victims.
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| Remember |
As the credits roll at the end of Maybe Its Because…, the faces of each of the 52 dead (although that figure may rise) will compete for viewers attention with the list of cast and crew and a TV health warning saying that if anyone has been affected by the film then it has done its job perfectly.
In media terms, victims do not make for good telly. Nor to they make for good copy, as the Mirror leads with a front-page shot of the WHITE WATER TERRORISTS.
In case youre hard-of-reading and managed to miss the livid cover shot of two of the suicide bombers, Mohammed Sidique Khan and Shehzad Tanweer rafting down the choppy River Tryweryn, Wales, the Mirror makes the shot bigger and splashes it over two more pages inside.
A PEACE SIGN..FROM A SUICIDE BOMBER, says the headline as Sidique flashes the old Churchillian two-fingered salute to the cameraman.
Meanwhile, on page seven, the paper produces a single column list of the 52 innocent victims of the bombs in plain black and white. And thats it.
And do not think the Mirror is alone in this virtual news blackout of the true victims of the London terror attack.
Though the Mail leads with more news of militant Islamicists British-born Haroon Rashid Aswat has been captured at a religious school in Pakistan with a suicide bomb belt it has nothing to say of the victims.
Instead whet readers get is a chance to see a photo montage from yesterdays event when Tony Blair wanted to cross the street…in a car.
Between 11:30 and 11:50, around 50 police officers were employed in clearing the area around Whitehall as Tony made the 400-yard journey from Downing Street to the House of Commons.
We might not be afraid as we go to work on Londons public transport, but the impression is that our leader is more than a little jittery.
But what about life in the Sun? Surely that paper is still hunting down real-life stories, examples of human courage from the terror outrage.
Well, no. Like the Mirror, the Sun has a picture of the WHITE WATER RATS, two terrorists hurtling down a river; and like the Mail, it leads with tales of Muslim extremists, specifically a picture of cleric Omar Bakri Mohammed and the news that he is not to be deported.
But no mention is made of the victims. Not even a story about how a dog that belonged to one of the murdered has been rehoused with a lovely old lady in Southport.
There are just more tales of doom, hatred and extremism. Which, when all said and done, might be the best sign that things are returning to normal…’
A Crying Shane
‘AFTER the phoney war of the one-day internationals, England and Australia go into battle in the first day of crickets Ashes series.
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| Taxi! |
Ok, enough. We wont overdo the jingoism, but its hard to resist when flags are being waved from every newspaper and faces are daubed in patriotic red and white.
And with any war theres propaganda. Which means that on day one of the seven-week contest, the Mirror produces a story about Australias Shane Warne, the hero of past campaigns and a serial sex cheat.
In WILL YOU SEDUCE MY WIFE?, the Mirror hears from Rebecca Weeden, who tells the world how Warne begged her to seduce his wife into having a threesome.
The plan was, allegedly, that Weeden would pretend to be an obsessed cricket fan who stumbled across Warne and his wife in a bar.
Weeden would then compliment Warnes wife, saying how beautiful and attractive she was, one thing would lead to another, a maiden would be bowled over, the bails would come off, there would be all manner of ball tampering and Shane would score.
The plan did not work. But the other plan, the one that seems intended to unsettle Warne and make him a target as wide as his girth, goes on.
We hear how Warne loved spanking in bed and seemed more worried about his hair falling out than his doomed relationship with his wife.
For added impact, we see one picture of perky 20year-old Rebecca and another shot of Simone Warne sitting on a swing with a face longer than her estranged husbands list of sexual conquests.
She has our deepest sympathy. As does Shane…’
Bakri The Bid
‘GIVEN that insurance doesnt usually cover force majeure, its unlikely anyone who bought a ticket to hear Yusuf al-Qaradawi speak in Manchester this August will be able to get their money back.
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| ‘I’ll be Bakri’ |
As the Express says in its front-page news (BANNED), the papers crusade has deterred the Egyptian-born Muslim cleric from speaking in the UK.
It can be no mere coincidence that just 24 hours after the Express demanded that Qaradawi be barred entry to the UK he has decided not to appear.
But the paper could not have done it alone, and appreciates the 95 per cent of its readers who called for Qaradawi to be banned in the papers opinion-forming poll.
The reason why most papers only publish the result in percentages is because it would be too embarrassing to admit that only a handful of people actually bothered to phone in. But this is a vital issue one in which the Expresss crusade has seen off the jihad and we hear that callers flooded the papers phone lines.
Buoyed by that success, the paper produces another poll today: Is Blair doing enough to halt Muslim fanatics?
Such questions are usually more loaded than a 21-year-old George W Bush at a frat party, but we spot room for some confusion given that Blair is the surname of our beloved leader and of the Metropolitan Police Commissioner Ian Blair.
Of course, neither of them is doing enough. So the Sun has pulled on its chain mail and joined the fight. Splashed over its cover page is a picture of the unlovely mad mullah, the Muslim fanatic Omar Bakri Mohammed and the cry: SEND HIM BAK.
The Sun is angry that the poisonous cleric has spouted the opinion that we Britons are all to blame for the terrorist atrocity in London.
But before you hand yourself over to the authorities, take a look at Bakris words. I blame the British government, says the Syrian-born polemicist, and I blame the British people.
Thanks to various human rights acts Bakri is entitled to give full throat to his odious opinions and thanks to the British system hes also entitled to £300-a-week income support and to have the rent on his London home subsidised.
The Sun also thinks its important for us to know that Bakris house is worth £200,000 although how its price has been affected by the recent bombs perhaps the Mail can work out. He has his council tax paid and drives a Ford Galaxy on which he pays no insurance, gets free specs and NHS prescriptions.
Quite right that Tory MP Julian Brazier tells the Mail (CLERIC: BOMBS ARE OUR FAULT!): Hes abused our hospitality in the most outrageous fashion. He should be put on a plane.
Clearly, Bakri is a malevolent and contemptible presence, however the big worry is not that he voices his offensive opinions but that anyone listens to such vitriol and pays it any credence. But, sadly, as recent events have shown, some do…’
