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.
Sharking Fish
‘AS is the way with such things, Sienna Miller is said to be incandescent with rage as her row with cheating Jude Law thunders on.
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| ‘My midnight, my occluded front will have passed to Mrs Miggins at No. 23’ |
Of course, skilled actors like Sienna can do rage just as easily as they can a growing tree or a squirrel burying its nuts.
But last night her fans were disappointed when, as the Express says, Sienna pulled out of a performance of As You Like It on the London stage.
This time it wasnt nanny Daisy Wright taking her place, but her acting understudy Denise Gough.
But while Sienna tries to work out how her nice young man became a love rat, and, as a source tells the paper, good at breaking hearts and mucking people about, the Mail hears tell of a yet more sensational sex story.
For fear of diluting the impact, the papers headline runs: Wife-swapping claims leave Michael Fish thunderstruck.
In his autobiography, former BBC radio executive David Benedictus alleges that Fish was part of a sexually liberated group in South-West London.
Not so, says Fish, who says hes never met Benedictus, dressed, naked, in the throes of suburban passion or otherwise.
Mrs Fish agrees. It is ridiculous, says she. By saying my husband was wife-swapping it automatically implicates me too. I will sue him if my husband doesnt.
For his part, Benedictus stands by his story, saying that though he cannot lay his hands on any evidence to support his claim of the swinging Fish, he is of the mind that the original story on which his tale is based appeared in The News Of The World some years ago.
Perhaps on one of those nights when Fish predicted a sudden hot spell and advised the wearing of nothing more than cheeky smiles indoors, outdoors and at Neighbourhood Watch meetings…’
Abiding Law
‘UNTIL this week the only bad things about Jude Law was his American accent.
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| Miller’s tale is between his legs |
Universally looked upon as being nice looking, a nice young man whos nice to his family, nice Law was fancied by nice women who liked their men doe-eyed, soft and nice.
Now hes randy Jude. His films flop but he doesnt. He cheated on his blonde fiancée, Sienna Miller, and, as the Sun reports, begged nanny Daisy Wright to take part in a threesome.
She declined. And a close pal of the shocked nanny explains why. She is a respectable young girl and told him No… Daisy did fancy Jude but she didnt want to share him intimately with another woman. She just isnt that kind of girl.
Shes a veritable English rose is Daisy, who told all in a Sunday red-top. As is Miller, who, like the nanny, didnt want to share Jude intimately with another woman either, including one hired to look after his children.
So shes called off their wedding and, as the Sun says, is too angry to cry.
As a budding actress, we advise Sienna to give crying a go, and to broaden her range with a little yelling, shouting, screaming and hollering. Who knows, with enough practice she may yet use this tragedy to her advantage and get a part on EastEnders.
As it is, a source puts things in perspective and says that Jude feels like the most hated man in Britain. Indeed, he must be. We can imagine nothing worse than a Hollywood star cheating on his girlfriend. He should be deported.
But is he all to blame? Or should we look long and hard at the nanny? As the Mirror explains, Ms Wright is the just the latest home help to misinterpret her terms of employment.
It remembers 27-year-old Abbie Gibson, former nanny to the Beckhams three sons, who revealed intimate secrets of her employees lives. Shes now seeking up to £60,000 at an employment tribunal.
Tennis star John McEnroe cheated on his former wife, Tatum ONeal, with not one but two nannies. Hes the pits. And nanny Sandra Rivett, 29, caused all sorts of trouble for her boss, Lord Lucan, when she got herself murdered.
But celebrity mothers need not panic. They can still lunch and see the accessories when they are clean and undemanding if they follow the Suns guide to hiring help.
In a cut-out-and keep tip sheet, the Sun says that the nanny should be shaped like an old sofa comfy, caring and a bit worn around the edges. (Although should she have children by Wayne Rooney, Coleen McGlouglin should skip this part.)
Do not employ a nanny who looks good in low cut, see-through tops and cute pink boots. And while you can trust the help with the kids, think twice before allowing her to accompany your man on a trip to the US, as Sienna did.
Oh, and if he does still cheat on you with your helpful cuddly, frumpy older woman, seek comfort in the fact that at least hell fancy you when youre older…’
William The Threesome
‘PRINCE William is his fathers son. And today we read that like dad there are two women in the young mans life.
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| In thirty years let’s be laughing about this together |
The Mail announces on its front page that William is in the wilderness with Kate AND Jecca.
Sounds great, says you. But what is a Jecca? Make that who is a Jecca? Jecca is no thing, no toy to pick up and cast aside at will, but a woman made of flesh and blood.
Shes Jecca Craig, the 23-year-old princes former girlfriend who has joined Wills and current squeeze Kate Middleton in Kenya for a romantic interlude on a Kenyan wildlife conservancy run by Craigs parents, Ian and Jane.
Whats more, the Mail says that as the sun set on the plains, the holidaymakers were joined by other friends.
Could it be that our Wills has inherited the very worst of his mother and fathers baser human urges? Is he succeeding in matters of the flesh where Jude Law failed?
We suspect not. And take some comfort in the Suns news that Wills and Jecca share a bother-sister relationship.
And not a bed…’
Posted: 19th, July 2005 | In: Tabloids | Comment (1)
Lay Jude
‘AFTER more than a week, finally theres a split in the consensus as the papers begin to go their separate ways.
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| Sienna-ed off |
The Mail says the Royal Institute of International Affairs has looked into why terrorists do what they do and written a report which leads the Mail to conclude: IRAQ WAR MADE BRITAIN TERROR TARGET.
The Institute, a group with a lower profile than a ping-pong ball, although the Mail sees it as Britains most authoritative thinktank, says invading Iraq upset Islamic fundamentalist and people who hate the West. Controversial just isnt in it.
And who was behind the war on Iraq? No, not Saddam Hussein, who gassed his countrymen, invaded Kuwait, waged long and bloody war on Iran and wore white baggy Yfronts (see Sun passim).
It was Tony Blair, a man who invaded Iraq but would no more be seen in Y-fronts than in the arms of this favourite pant-picker, Carole Caplin.
The report says that Tony was the pillion passenger of a policy driven by George Bush. And that made Britain a target for al-Qaeda.
Its the kind of news the paper says will haunt Tony Blair and manna from heaven to the Mail, which likes to see Tony Blair haunted.
But Tony shouldnt worry too much because the Sun has a bigger story to tell.
In its front-page sensation, the paper hears from Daisy Wright, the woman with whom Jude Law is said to have cheated on his fiancée, Sienna Miller.
The ex-nanny for Laws children says the actor made her body tingle during sex. He was a masterful lover.
He says: There is no defence for my action. (Neither Saddam, Tony or God made him do it.)
Now Jude wants to put things right and has taken Sienna away to be alone and sort things out.
And hes upset that Daisy lost her job as a result of their affair one of his children, allegedly, found them in bed together.
So to make amends, Daisy says Jude offered to recommend her to David and Victoria Beckham – although for what we are not told…’
Kentucky Fried Pigeon
‘COO! What a scorcher, says the pigeon sitting atop Nelsons Column.
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| The pigeon doughnut |
Indeed, it is hot. And from its vantage point high above Trafalgar Square, the flying rat is warmed by the sun above and from lunch within, as its daily diet of junk food is turned from the revolting mush that litters the pavement to a revolting mush that litters Nelsons head.
According to Keep Britain Tidys Alan Woods, the groups chief executive, seven out of ten bits of litter on the pavement are food related.
As the Mail says, its even worse in the summer when the weather encourages people to eat outside and the pigeon breeding season is at its peak.
Woods says the mess is unfair on councils and positively cruel to the pigeons, which are tempted to eat our droppings.
But it cant be that bad. Fast food hasnt done the average obese Briton any harm.
In fact, feeding pigeons junk food may complete the food cycle of the urban food chain.
If you were to trap an urban pigeon and slice it open, youd discover right before youre shot by animal lovers that it comes pre-stuffed with chips and curry sauce, its insides coated in a dusting of five secret herbs and spices.
Its like a kebab with wings. And every bit as delicious…’
London Waiting
‘YESTERDAY there was a two-minute break in the posturing, commenting and vain attempts at understanding last weeks terrorist outrage on central London.
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| Dignity |
It was a hiatus that was well observed, as the Sun shows pictures of hundreds of people taking the time to remember the murdered and maimed in various places, from Londons Kings Cross station to Rome.
Staying quiet for a two full minutes can seem like an age (these periods of silence are growing longer: three minutes after 9/11; five-minutes in Madrid to mark a year since the city was attacked by terrorists).
But rather than use the time to think of the dead, the missing and the hurt, the papers considered the more exciting story of the killers.
The Mirror wants its readers, a group famously well practised in espionage and man hunting, to FIND THIS MAN. Hes called Magdy Mahmoud Elnasher, although probably not anymore.
Hes Egyptian. And the 33-year-old bio-chemist is believed to have handed over the keys of a terror base in Leeds to the four killers.
No, were not entirely sure what that means, either. But it sounds shadowy and evil.
But never fear because the Mirror is on the case and says it has traced Elnasher to an address in Cairo. Last night a woman answered the phone number but did not comment, it says breathlessly.
This is nothing short of a sensation. But while the Mirror works its way through the Cairo phone book, calling up all the Elnashers and Mahmouds in it, the Sun brings more news of terrorist Hasib Hussain.
Yesterday the paper introduced Hussain as THE SHOPLIFTER. One day on and hes the BOMBER who is said to have CELEBRATED when, as a 14-year-old sitting in class, he head the news that New York had been attacked.
As a fellow pupil tells the paper: I always thought him capable of something like this.
Surely, thats some mistake. What happened to the usual stuff, what people say whenever a killer is found in their midst?
You know, when members of the local community say how he was a lovely lad; good to old people; never too busy to lend a hand; loved cats; never saw him kill anyone before.
And the source goes on: When I heard on the news that people from Leeds were suspected of being involved I told friends it would be Hussein.
Pity he didnt tell the police. But, then, Hussain had never blown himself up on a bus before, so theres no guarantee they would have believed him..?
Paul Sorene’
We Are Praying
‘AFTER everyone else has had their say and the dust has settled, the celebrities will tell us how 7/7 affected their lives, forcing them think afresh about their new single and what outfit they were going to wear to the British Soap Awards.
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| Taller than most, Penny feels closer to God |
It will take a while to come, but come it will. And if you doubt it take a look at the Mail, which brings news from the life of Rod Stewart.
Now Rods found God, says the headline. And Rods pregnant fiancée, Penny Lancaster, says that Rod is a changed man.
While we look forward to a lyric that rhymes Rod with God, and a possible debut with Cliff Richard on the BBCs Songs of Praise, Penny tells the world about Rods moment of epiphany.
I think 9/11 was quite a turning point in our lives as it was after the tragedy that we began frequenting church a lot, says she. Whenever we were on tour, if there was a church and the doors were open wed go in and have a prayer.
Good on yer. But what did Penny pray for in those moments of soul searching.
World peace? And end to hunger. That God would add His voice to the pop chorus and say No! to poverty? Er… One thing Id pray about was to ask that Rod would see that I was true and real.
And..? What I didnt realise was that Rod was praying for just the same thing. Wow! Its like something spiritual. Its drawn a strong spiritual bond between us.
It seems that prayer really works. Which should bring no small comfort to the victims of last weeks attack and their friends and relatives, although not to the praying terrorists and their sympathisers, obviously…
Paul Sorene’
Dance Of Death
‘IN a storyline bizarre even by Walford standards, Danny Moon has lost his mind to salsa. No, he hasnt joined the cast of Strictly Come Dancing (yet) more surreally, Danny tried to kill Johnny Allen because hed stolen his dance.
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| Timber! |
East End gangsters have gone to war over protection rackets, drugs and even women but youd be hard pressed to find a single case of dancing differences. But hey! This is Walford a place where no one owns a washing machine and Ian Beale can find four wives.
Danny decided to burn down Johnnys house in revenge for the fact that Johnny had stolen his idea for hosting a salsa night at club Scarlet. Johnny, believing that his daughter was in the house, rushed into the burning building and had to be rescued by firemen.
It wasnt difficult for Johnny to discover who the culprit was since every time someone mentioned the word salsa in Dannys hearing, he starting foaming at the mouth and rocking in a demented manner not seen since the days of Arthur Fowlers breakdown.
Johnny drove Danny and his brother Jake out to the woods and held a gun to their heads (reasoning that the pair are so stupid that one bullet would pass through both empty skulls). But at the last minute, Johnny changed his mind at least thats what he told girlfriend Tina and the brothers cousin, Alfie. The brothers havent been seen since so only time will tell if theyve been buried in the forest and left to rot with all the other wood out there.
And on the subject of the dead returning, it looks like its only a matter of time before Dens body rises from his concrete coffin under the cellar floor. Sharon has already commented on how the cellar floor is cracking and rumour has it that Dens body will be discovered on the day of Sharon and Dennis wedding.
Kat is doing her best to insure that Chrissie never forgets that day in the Vic by constantly taunting her about her husbands death. If my usband ever cheated on me, ed be a dead man, Kat smirked to Chrissie across the bar of The Vic.
Zoe told her mother everything before she jetted off to Ibiza. And if theres one thing that Kats never been any good at is keeping her mouth shut. Just ask any of her regulars ’
A Sense of Normality
‘ARE we really so shocked the London killers were home-grown British terrorists working out of Leeds?
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| Well, there were only repeats on the telly… |
To many of us, each looks exactly what an Islamic terrorist looks like. They are all male. They are heavily into religion. And they are prepared to kill themselves and others on busy buses and trains.
But the papers are still trying to get their heads round it, and the concerted effort to normalise them and, we suppose, thereby find a way to understand them goes on.
This process begins on the cover of the Mail, where the paper produces headshots of three of the killers and a brief captioned profile for each.
Hasib Hussain became religious overnight. Mohammad Sadique Khan was a special needs teacher. Shehzad Tanweeer was a talented sportsman and student.
See how everyday they are. Theyre just like the rest of us. Only, they are not. They are murderers. Which is amazing, isnt it.
Well, not really. Its a bit like hearing that Harold Shipman was a simple local doctor who didnt care for old people; Peter Sutcliffe wasnt overly fond of prostitutes and John Reginald Halliday Christie was a bad neighbour.
But still the attempt to normalise goes on. Now the Sun has a go, replacing the Mails captions with a headline for each of the aforesaid three mass murderers.
Khan becomes THE TEACHER. Hussain is transformed from an instrument of evil to THE SHOPLIFTER. Someone who admits to having known him calls him a dopey dork.
And Tanweer is THE SPORTY YOB. A kind of loveable rogue, albeit with a big bag of explosives attached to his person and harbouring a murderous grudge against just about everyone and everything.
But this may not be enough. DO you know any of the suicide bombers or their friends and family, asks the Sun. Theres a phone number you can call, another number you can text and, given the sophistication of these things, an email address you can write to.
So come on, tell us about them. What football teams did they support? Osama bin Laden has followed Arsenal does he treat Chelsea and Leeds fans with the same respect as followers of his own club? Or were there heated debates? Who was their favourite Big Brother housemate?
And on it will go. Were invited to try to understand their motives. We are invited to know them. Only, there is nothing to understand. Hatred is all too obvious…
Paul Sorene’
Fashionably Late
‘EVER wondered what happened to Lauryn Hill, the singer who underwent a miseducation?
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| Ready or not? |
The Mail has. And last night it caught up with the singer in her dressing room as she prepared to go on stage at the London Coliseum.
While 2,300 fans took their seats for the 8pm performance, Hill prepared.
At around 9pm, the audience was more than ready to be entertained – but not by a bow-tied official who took to the stage to say that the star had been delayed by heavy traffic and would be on stage…soon.
Soon came. Soon went. The crowd stayed. But at 10:40 on the dot, the former Fugees singer was standing by the microphone.
I have a problem with procrastination, said she. I have a great deal of difficulty deciding what to wear its a woman thing.
Oh, a woman thing, eh. Say no more. Were with you. No man would want to intrude on that mystery any further.
And all women know that even with a wardrobe assistant, a stylist, a dresser and a legion of advisors, primpers and pamperers, getting the right look can be a bind.
And what a look it was. The Mail has a picture of the creation Hill finally chose. Its a kind of Patsy Cline meets Dolly Parton in a dark alley and then has a nasty accident with EastEnders Pat.
And a guitar…
Paul Sorene’
The Word On The Lane
‘I SAY, I say, I say, what do you call a man who blows himself up on a crowded train with the intent of killing and maiming anyone and everyone around him?
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| ‘And finally… A gas leak in central London…’ |
THE Mail thinks it knows and labels the four SUICIDE BOMBERS FROM SUBURBIA – the teenager, the cricketer, the family man and the mystery man.
Thats a good try, or four good tries; five if you include suicide bombers. But they are all wrong.
The Sun thinks it knows, and labels the foursome who came to London from Yorkshire dressed as hitchhikers THE BRIT BOMBERS.
But this is not the right answer, either. Which just leaves the Mirror to give us its best shot. Are they THE SUICIDE MURDERERS?
Like it. Its a neat variant on the American homicide bomber. But it too is wrong.
In times like these we usually defer to the BBCs style guide, and it says, as the Mail reports, that the answer is the unadorned bombers.
As Helen Boaden, the Beebs knowing director of news says in her memo dispatched to her editors after last weeks attacks, or pranks, the perpetrators, the misunderstood, the accidental tourists, call them what you will, are not terrorists.
Shes advised the BBCs news staff not to use the word terrorists when talking about, er, terrorists and to resist any urge to talk of the events as being part of a terror attack.
That is clear enough. But to the Mail (So whose side is the Beeb really on?), the move is controversial, although surely in keeping with the Beebs labelling of men and women who blow up buses in Israel as extremists or militants.
Or happy slappers…’
Copy Cat Fight
‘SUN readers must be disappointed that the terrorists came from Yorkshire.
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| As original as air |
Such news pushes all other things out of the way, including the return of Page 3.
After yesterdays flash of knickers-clad buttock from leggy Kate, readers who like their news brief and in briefs expected more today.
But there are no naked stunnas. Indeed, the only things on offer are one picture of Charlotte Church bending forward to show us her cleavage and another of pop tart and wannabe footballers wife Cherly Tweedy posing in a low-cut top.
Why the girls are in the paper is obvious. But the big news, behind their seductive smiles and vapid looks, is that Cheryl has accused Charlotte of copying the Girls Aloud, the Spice Girls tribute act of which Cheryl is a member.
Speaking on the radio, Cheryl says her group are developing their music, taking it from screechy girl pop to a more mature screechy girl pop in a change of tact of which Ellen MacArthur would be proud.
And, as a source says, she thinks Charlottes new album is a carbon copy of a lot of the Girls Aloud material.
So we played it, and then listened to the Girls Aloud collection. And yes, there is one key similarity: both made our ears bleed.
Its not too off the mark to call Charlotte and Cheryl musical terrorists, or bombers, as the BBC would have it…’
Normality Returns
‘HOW do you know when things have returned to normal after the horror of last Thursdays bombs in London?
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| Let’s burst the terrorists’ bubble |
Weve heard from commentators, reporters, world leaders but thus far not a peep from busty Zoe, thrusting Nikki or saucy Michelle.
The Suns legion of barely-dressed opinion formers usually have much to say on all manner of topical issues the EU, war, David Beckhams armpit Mohicans – but on the matter of London, they have been noticeable by their absence.
But things are slowly getting back to normal. And today the papers Page 3 is decorated by a picture of former Big Brother winner and professional blonde Kate Lawler.
Kate is no fulltime mo-del and prefers to cradle her breasts in her hands rather than display them with unabashed pride. But she does show enough frilly knicker to encourage thoughts that last weeks wounds are already beginning to heal.
Indeed, Kate is something of a trail blazer. She, like hundreds of others, is not afraid. And Kate proved just that when she conquered her fear of flying and stepped aboard a return flight from Ibiza stinking of sweat and booze.
Bottoms up to her. As London Mayor Ken Livingstone tells the Mirror as he rode the Tube to work: We dont let a small group of terrorists challenge the way we live. We carry on with our lives.
Pah! That those evil folks ever could alter our course to the bar. The most dreaded words to any Londoners ears are not tales of a bomb but the phrase Rail replacement bus service, and You cant park there.
And here is our friendly breed of traffic wardens in the Mirror, helping life return to what it was and ever will be by ticketing cars parked around Tavistock Square.
The brave men and women of the Camden Council parking enforcement unit were spotted slapping fixed penalty notices to the windscreens of cars belonging to local residents who had been unable to use their usual parking zones because someone had blown up a bus.
If you are parked illegally, you get a ticket, says one uniformed hero. Rightly so. And if you continue to flout the rules you not only let the terrorists win but you run the real risk of being clamped.
Watching estate agent Lee Matthews looked on at just such a scene of London life. They were clamping this car and it turns out the owner was forced to leave it there on Thursday when the police cleared the area, says he with pride.
But, as a spokesman for the council explains, the car was never cordoned off and the driver was free to pluck up his courage and pick his way through the carnage any time in the four days when the parking teams activities were suspended.
Quite so.
Paul Sorene’
Old Spices
‘NINE years ago, all Posh, Geri, Baby, Scary and Sporty wanted was to party with their mates and zigazig ah.
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| No Spice Girl is an island |
Now, they want to make a comeback record or two and thereby create interest in a greatest hits album and reclaim their rightful place as the worlds most hyped and least talented band.
But first, as the Sun explains, the girls need some new names. If you looked into a pram and saw Emma Bunton staring back at you, youd run screaming to the nearest secure unit. So, shes no longer Baby, shes Arent You A Bit Old For That Spice.
And so it goes on. Posh is Too Posh To Push Spice, Scary, still scary, is Skint Spice, yo-yo weight watcher Geri Halliwell is Binger Spice and the screaming Sporty is The One It Turned Out Could Sing (A Bit) Spice.
And theyre all set to reunite for a couple of new singles released next year to mark a decade since their debut single Wannabe shot to No.1 in the charts.
But they will not appear together. The Suns says that after a series of bust ups, the fivesome are each recording bits of the songs in different parts of he world.
As a source says: The girls are in different countries and couldnt agree on a place to meet. Theres tension.
And since tension is no good for the vocals, we dread to think of what affect the rift will have on the girls performances.
But producers Stannard and Rowe will gather in the bits of songs, the the odd right note, the many thong-clad bum ones, and stitch the vocals together into a song Frankenstein would have been proud to call his own.
And will make us wonder what it was we ever saw in the act…
Paul Sorene’
Facing The Truth
‘WAS the wave of bombs in London the prelude to more carnage or the culmination of a concerted terrorist plot to kill?
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| City worker Jamie Gordon, 30, is missing |
No need to think about that one too hard because the harbinger of doom and gloom that is the Express knows the answer: BOMBERS WILL STRIKE AGAIN.
As if the hangover from last week wasnt unsettling enough, the Express starts the working week with the news that a massive search is on to catch the perpetrators of the London atrocity before they strike again.
But where will be hit next? When will another attack come? Who will be behind it?
Usually when such vital matters are debated, the Express poses what it believes to be the key question and asks its readers to answer it via a phone vote.
But there isnt one today, leaving us with no way of knowing where we think the bombs will be, which place could be hit or who we believe will carry any attack out.
And theres more anxiety-inducing speculation in the Mail, where the paper says 3,000 men with British links have trained for murder at Osama Bin Ladens terror camps.
And thats not a number the paper has dreamt up, but one suggested as possibly being what could be, just might be, the number of operating Britishborn or British-based terrorists by ex-Metropolitan Police Commissioner Lord Stevens.
That sounds a lot. Perhaps hes right. Perhaps hes wrong. But lets not speculate on Stevenss guesstimate, however educated he thinks it is, and instead focus on what we do know.
And that it that people have been murdered and maimed. Thats still the main story in the Sun which talks on its front page of the GIRL IN THE MASK, telling its readers that the woman now famously pictured holding the eerie white surgical mask to her face is one Davinia Turrell.
She suffered horrific burns in the Edgware Road bomb and is still being treated at Chelsea and Westminster hospital.
And now come more faces, this time inside the Express. Theres a full page of faces and names all missing, all being looked for by family and friends hoping against all rational hope that their loved ones are still alive.
After the initial shock, comes the story that the dead are not numbers, not objects to be tallied up and speculated on, but people…’
The Cheeks Of It
‘THOSE of you who want to stick up two fingers to the world can; those of you who want to moon at it are advised to exercise great caution.
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| Do not try this in jail |
Take the Suns story of Vincent Dutton, 18, from Liscard, Merseyside.
While holidaying on the island of Zakynthos – also known as Zante Dutton wanted to do his bit to keep spirits high.
So he hit on a plan of action. And with his trousers and pants around his ankles, he walked the length of a road in the resort of Laganas.
All the way, he was cheered on by onlookers. His friends roared in approval. At his destination, Dutton raised his arms in victory.
At which point, police approached him. Dutton was arrested. Dutton was taken to court. Dutton was given a 15 months jail sentence.
Public prosecutor Geroge Petrou called Duttons behaviour inexcusable and uncivilised. He was appalled.
So Dutton has been jailed. Although he will be freed is he coughs up ten euros for each day of his sentence, around £3,200.
But he says he cant. Which means the lads 18-30 package tour is set to run into a gap year. And one on which we advise him to keep his trousers on, lest he arouse suspicion, and the interests of his fellow jailbirds…
Paul Sorene’
Life Goes On
‘THERE is a temptation to talk about how Big Brothers Mikosi did bonk Anthony in the big Brother pool and, since she takes no birth control, perhaps create the worlds first example of actual human pond life.
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Perhaps in doing so, we can support the idea of life carrying on as normal for British people.
Only its hard; the Sun lets us at the Big Brother housemates but only after over 20 pages of carnage, death and terror.
OUR SPIRIT WILL NEVER BE BROKEN, vows the Sun on its front page, those words written in deepest black ink below shots of a bombed-out bus, a man with horrific wounds and the news that 53 are dead.
The Sun is often given over to jingoism and anachronistic references to the World War II, but today its mention of the spirit of the Blitz is apt.
WORST SINCE BLITZ, says the paper, as it reminds its readers that in matters of terror, Londoners are well practised.
But while Sun readers can just flip their daily read over to the sport pages and hear how Dame Kelly Holmes says the disgusting, cowardly, awful thing will not damage Londons Olympic programme, and how Craig Bellamy took a £10,000 a week pay cut to move from Newcastle to Blackburn Rovers, the Mirrors audience cannot.
The paper focuses only on the grim news from London. Whereas it, like all papers, had been publishing pictures of jubilant Londoners celebrating the citys 2012 Olympics earlier in the week, it now carries only shots of bloodied faces.
And instead of tales of spoilt footballers, how England cricketer Marcus Trescothick spent a glorious part of his yesterday smashing an unbeaten 104 runs in a win over the Australians (the Mails foremost back page), it has Tony Blairs reaction to the terrorist outrage in full.
Perhaps its be better if the paper hadnt wrapped itself in the horror, offered it readers a handy alternative, an escape into sports parallel world.
But at least Tonys words are spot on. When they try to intimidate us, we will not be intimidated, begins the prime minister, ending his message with: We will not be terrorised.
And hes right. We wont be…
Paul Sorene’
Playing The Fall
‘ITS interesting to imagine what story would have been the papers first had the dreadful events in London not occurred.
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| Bush could teach those anarchist clowns a thing or two |
And the Suns report on the Big Brother shag would not have made it to the papers front page.
Because the first story to appear after the tales of bombs and devastated lives is that overweight cops in Romania are being taken off the beat and given desk jobs because they are damaging the forces image.
OK, it would not have been front-page news, but the story does appear on the first page after the talk of the horror in London.
Working on the premise that what comes immediately after the bombs would have come first, we can believe the Mail would have splashed across its front page the news that the price of a dentists check-up is to rocket from £6 to £15.
Given the papers track record, its likely readers would have been invited to view the rise as a sure sign that the world has gone stark raving bonkers and political correctness has, as it ever has, gone mad.
And then wondered how a filling going up in price from £17.64 to £41 would impact on house prices and make Britain a soft target for bogus dentists from Albania.
And the Mirror would have run with the by now familiar news that Bush is no more adept at riding a bike than a fish is of running the most powerful nation on Earth.
George Bush may well walk in the manner of a man whos just stepped off his horse, but its another kind of saddle thats giving him jip.
Bush spent his 59th birthday riding a bike…into a policeman. This odd form of celebration left the policeman shaken and the leader of the free world with cuts on an arm and hand.
The Mirror has a shot of Bushs injured fingers, all bandaged and scraped, and hears him say: It goes to show I should act my age.
But on a day like this, when humour is thin on the ground, were pretty glad he didnt…
Paul Sorene’
French Toast
‘LONDON has only just been awarded the Olympic Games and already the negative reporting has begun.
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| Jacques Chirac, Napoleon, Pétain, Louis Pasteur, Jeanne d’Arc, Charles Aznavour – your boys took one hell of a beating |
No, not that. Weve a full seven years until the 2012 Games begins to read about shoddy workmanship, a legion of illegal workers and falling and rising house prices in Londons East End.
The first volley of negativity is aimed across the Channel at the French. You see, as important as it is that Britain got the nod to stage the Games is the fact that the French did not.
In any sporting contest there must be WINNERS (UK) and LOSERS (La France). This is no re-enactment of Trafalgar when no-one is sunk and everyone comes out on top.
This is the real deal. To the victors the spoils. To the losers aka the French – the chance to have your tear-soaked heads encircled in Olympic rings on the Suns front page.
CHEER UP FRANCE..ITS ONLY A GAMES, says the Sun sportingly. Indeed, it is. But the paper spots Lord Horatio Nelson looking down as Britain cheered victory at Trafalgar and senses so much more.
If you doubt it, just raise a telescope to your eye and take a look at Les Miserables across the way.
Poor old smug President Jacques Chirac. He failed to impress the delegates on the International Olympic Committee. He looks like hes got a nasty taste in his mouth.
The man who doesnt like our food is invited to eat the Suns crusty humble pie the paper has sent one to his room at the Gleneagles Hotel where hes G8 summiting.
But if he doesnt fancy a slice of that, the Sun offers a few alternatives, like stuffed frog, Coq-up au vin, French runner-up beans and some hard cheeses all washed down with a pint of bitter the paper recommends a foamy glass of London Pride.
Cheer up, Jacques. But its all just good fun, of course. Just a joke. Although in Whos laughing now, Mr Chirac?, the Mail spots Frances court jester in residence in po-faced mode.
The paper says that Chirac is the biggest loser from yesterdays vote. The paper suggests that his jokes about British food and agriculture may have cost Paris the Games.
Its all Chiracs fault, says one Frenchman, one of thousands who had gathered outside Pariss LHotel de Ville in readiness for a huge victory party.
If Chirac hadnt insulted England earlier this week, we would have won, comes a stuttering French voice between sobs.
We had everything, says another. Chiracs stupid insults against the English have clearly worked against us.
But, come, come. Its not the fin de regne for Chirac. Its not so much the winning as the taking part.
And if it hadnt have been for the French there could have been no contest and no magnificent British victory.
So berets off to the winners. And tissues to the losers…
Paul Sorene’
Camilla’s Popularity Flags
‘WHILE the Sun wraps itself in the flag to celebrate the London Olympics, the Mail says that not everyone is happy to wave it.
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| Many happy returns, ma’am |
News is that an order of fly the Union Jack next Sunday, July 17, to mark the Duchess of Cornwalls 58th birthday is to be ignored by those who do not approve of her.
Buckingham Palace has added Camilla to the list of Royals to be honoured by having the nations flag flown on their birthdays.
But those loyal to the memory of Diana are not happy. They are prepared to fly in the face of the directive.
The Mayor of Crewe and Nantwich in Cheshire, one Maureen Grant, tells the Mail she is uncomfortable with honouring Camilla.
After what Charles and Camilla did to Diana, says she, theres no way we should honour her in this way. She finds the whole thing distasteful.
Brian Jarvis, Mayor of Wigan, is less than chuffed. To find that all of a sudden shes regarded as part of the establishment and that therefore we are expected to fly the flag for her is something I do find rather hard to stomach.
And on it goes, as dignitaries from all over the country say how unhappy they are that Camilla is to be honoured.
But something must be flown lest the council be accused of disloyalty to the crown.
And while some bigwigs and Di-hards will champion the idea of running Camilla up a flagpole, others can display their patriotism and displeasure all at once with a hoisted pair of Union Jack Y-fronts, bra or saddle…
Paul Sorene’
Manor Of Speaking
‘WHEN David Beckham speaks, dogs large and small prick up their ears and listen attentively.
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| Boy in the hood |
And so does Tony Blair, who, as the Mirror says in OLYMBCKS, has enlisted the support of the star footballer to add a certain celebrity shine to Londons bid to host the 2012 Olympic Games.
So Daves in Singapore with the rest of team London, striving to for do for London sport what the Millennium Dome did for the citys culture.
And yesterday Dave was getting ready for todays pitch to the IOCs members by changing his outfit three times.
And no, Dave didnt begin the days dress rehearsal in a pair of high-thigh runners shorts, before changing into his swimming trunks and then a gymnasts leotard.
Rather, he opted for a suit and tie, a blue hooded tracksuit, as favoured by G8 protesters and happy slappers, and a bizarre shiny white shell suit, a kind of easy-clean version of the jailbirds white paper number.
Meanwhile, over in the Sun, Dave has been momentarily released from his duties of making some tarted up wasteland in East London look glossy and the last word in sporting chic to speak to the Sun.
Indeed, so vital is Dave to the Olympic bid that the paper has given him his own column.
Illustrated by a picture of Daves head superimposed before a House of Parliament lit up by the five Olympic rings in firework form, Dave gets ready and steady to give it his all.
And hes sharply out of the blocks, noting how its not every day you get the chance to have the Olympics in your country, never mind round the bend from where you were born.
This is personal. I have got friends with children growing up in the East End and they have said to me that to have the Olympics in our manor would be a special thing, says Dave.
So Dave would be happy. His friends would be happy. Hey, his friends children would be happy. So lets back the bid.
The East End needs a new Aquatics Centre, a velodrome and an Olympic Village, or a pond, an indoor market and a refugee holding bay, as they will come to be known locally…
Paul Sorene’
Salad Dressing
‘AFTER Jacques Chiracs comments on British food yesterday, the Sun seeks to slowly pull the legs off the man it calls the original Crazy Frog.
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| ‘Don’t worry, love, it’s just the alcohol talking’ |
Its secured the mouth and palette of bricklayer Gary Scales to sample grub at two unnamed London restaurants and see which he prefers – French or British.
Wiping away a spot of foie gras from his overalls, Scales rocks back in his chair, pats his rotund tum-tum and says: I would plump for British grub every time.
Of course he would. As would anyone in their right mind a mind not addled by eating amphibians, snails and snot-like droppings of rare cheese.
And Spanish food isnt much better. As the Mail writes, Spanish farmers have been using household sewage water to water the lettuce crops they export to Britain.
When they dont get irrigation water they turn to other water, says Spains environment minister, Christina Narbona of her countrys farmers.
As a farmer from south-east Spain puts it: The water we receive is not enough, so we are forced to mix it with the sewage from our homes.
And this is not to everyones taste. As the paper says, an outbreak of salmonella which affected 96 people in the UK last year has been traced to Spain.
The message is to play it safe. Anyone travelling to Spain should avoid eating lettuce unless it is cleansed in copious amounts of free-flowing bug-busting alcohol.
Or failing that, avoid it all together and stick to the egg and chips…
Paul Sorene’
Laughs Sans Frontieres
‘IN the spirit of the entente cordiale, let us now say that Jacques Chirac stinks of garlic.
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| ‘In thirty years let’s be laughing together’ |
And we mean that as a compliment. Smelling of garlic is an attractive thing, and much better than smelling of British chips, burgers and pickled eggs.
Eating garlic can also improve your stamina, making the minute-man into the minute-and-three-second man.
But there is a danger with this edgy humour that it gets taken in the wrong way. For instance, how would the British feel if Chirac was heard to say: The only thing the English have given European agriculture is the mad cow.
Come on, as the Express says, hes Jacques the joker, a lovable rogue, more Freddie Starr than Bill Hicks but no less the hilarious for it.
And in any case, lets give the French President a sympathetic round of applause (and a delicious round of fish paste sandwiches). Its no small task to get Germanys Gerhard Schroeder and Russias Vladimir Putin to laugh.
Confronted with such an audience like that, a crowd harder to please than a charabanc of OAPs escaping the summer rains at the end of Cannes pier, Chirac the professional ploughed on.
Only a skilled surgeon of comedy can find their funny bones, let alone tickle them until they laugh.
So watch now you students of comedy as Chirac moves in for the kill in the Mail. A roll on the turkey drummers, if you please. We cant trust people who have such bad food. After Finland its the country with the worst food.
Of course hes not being serious. How can he be? His jokes are as anachronistic as the one about spotting when a Frenchmans been in your garden. Vorsprung durch Slapstick, as they say in the Reichstag.
But not everyone has taken the joke in good part. In the Suns front-page story DONT TALK CREPE, illustrated by head shots of our finest chefs (Jamie Oliver, Delia Smith, Gordon Ramsay et al) and a plate of chicken tikka massala (thats the one without the tongue), the Sun responds.
Inside the paper, readers with mouthfuls of reconstituted egg and pinkish bacon-style meat-style substance nod in agreement as restaurant critic Egon Ronay says of Chirac: A man full of bile is not fit to pronounce on food.
Not bad for a first course. But revenge is a dish best served covered in dripping and by celebrity chef Brian Turner.
I dare him to try a piece of quality beef, says Turner, look me in the eyes and try to pretend it isnt some of the best he has tasted.
Some challenge that. But surely if we want to give Chirac his just desserts, we should refuse to laugh even when he has his face pushed into a mountainous pile of crème anglais pie…
Paul Sorene’
Child’s Play
‘AS if children in the Mail didnt have enough to worry about with paedophiles hiding in the computer and turkey twizzlers that eat your brains, they are now being told how to play.
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| Innocent pleasures |
Spending hours in front of the TV and computer games seem the stuff of childhood these days, says the paper, hankering after the days when children amused themselves with wooden hoops and Golly Wogs.
The Mail says that youngsters today seem to be missing out on the traditional pastimes that gave their parents treasured memories of childhood.
So the paper has published a list of 33 things what your under-ten should be doing or have done.
Failure to have ticked off the full list, drawn up by the Marxist-sounding International Play Association, will surely lead to a life of utter awfulness.
But before the list, lets see who compiled it. Theres Doug Cole, or Chairman Cole, to give him his dues, who contributes tree climbing to the list (No. 9).
And theres world-renowned expert on child development Melinda Messenger who chooses making a den in the garden and snow angels.
We had expected her to celebrate the childish joy of making false breast from mums rolled up tights, but our attention is distracted by the some other entrants.
The best thing to do, apparently is to roll down a grassy bank, preferably into a patch of life-affirming nettles. At No.2 is making a mud pie, followed by preparing modelling-dough mixture (see Messenger) and collecting frogspawn.
But the standout thing is surely in at No.32 make breakfast in bed for mum and dad. Which, given the times we live in, should consist of a line of Grade A cocaine, a bottle of alcopop and a copy of the Mail…
Paul Sorene’
The Woldu Emotion
‘THE Star is not known for its insightful reporting on global events, unless it involves a football tournament or a wet thong contest in Faliraki.
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| One million… |
But today even it waves its motherf****** hands in the air and waves them like it just doesnt care for African poverty.
There are six pages of Live 8 news coverage in the paper, including a vital few words from 19-year-old Kerry who was so enraptured, excited and touched by Saturdays events she sat in front of her telly all day…in her knickers.
The Suns 24-year-old Zoe did much the same, although her take on the biggest rally for Africa (Madonna was amazing) is somewhat overshadowed by the papers front-page picture of Bob Geldof cuddling famine survivor Birhan Woldu.
The Sun says how it flew Birhan, who was shown close to death on TV in 1985, from Ethiopia to London. And then interviewed her.
There we find out that Birhan, whose story is surely an inspiration to many, not only made it on stage but also met the great and good.
There are photos of Birhan with Joss Stone, Madonna and the Beckhams and Brad Pitt, who is said to have cuddled her backstage. Birhan says Brad has very kind eyes.
While elements of the press will see this as signs of a fledgling romance, wonder how Jennifer Aniston will react to such a story and use a computer graphics package to mock up pictures of what any Pitt-Woldu children would look like, the Mail sticks to the big story.
No, not poverty although The haves and the have nots is an insightful comment on life within the Hype Park celebrity-rich Golden Circle but the awful f****** swearing.
It seems that some of the watching masses couldnt bare the spectacle and more than 350 of them called the BBC to complain about the language.
What Tim Henman had begun a week or so earlier at Wimbledon with some teatime expletives, Madonna was continuing.
As the Mails swearing log tells us, Madonna wanted to know if London was f****** ready. On the same bill, American rapper Snoop Dogg was being a noisy motherf*****.
Razorlights lead singer Johnny Borrell urged the crowd to sign the f****** petition. Bono used the f-word in his opening salvo. And Green Day shouted, Come on f****** Deutschland at aghast fans in Berlin.
Shocking stuff.
But Dr Adrian Rogers, head of the Family Focus group has a solution. If these performers donated £1million to poverty in Africa every time they swore in public the problem would be wiped away in no time.
And an African despot would be a lot f****** richer…
Paul Sorene is the Anorak’
