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.
Salad Days
‘AH, how we hanker for those halcyon days when we only had to worry about what we put into our own mouths.
| ”Don’t worry, miss, it only fires organic bullets” |
Now were invited to study each morsel everyone else eats.
See that officially overweight man on the telly – he eats ten Mars bars, fifteen packets of full-fat crisps, 20 Sudan 1 biscuits, a small panda bear and a four-year-old child stuffed with marshmallows and dipped in sunset orange colouring for breakfast.
Is he happy? Well, he was until some TV doctor shoved a camera in his face and other into a pile of his poo.
And its set to get worse. The Government plans to educate the next generation of junk food eaters into being every bit as boring and vegetable-like as their new dinner menu.
The Express says that pupils in the Brighton and Hove area are to have the contents of their lunchboxes examined by inspectors.
While, its hard to argue that a diet of all chocolate buttons and fizzy drinks will make Jack a bright boy, it will make him the envy of his peers. He might even be popular.
Whats more, his packed lunch has probably been put together by his mum. Jack carries his composite blend of additives and reconstituted foodstuffs with his parents blessing.
The food may not be loaded with vitamins, it may taste like masticated snot, but his mum says it okay. And what right is it of anyone else to say otherwise?
Joanna Rickhards, a mother in the Brighton area who sends her brood to school with packed lunches so they dont need to eat the school dinners, calls the scheme patronising.
It is probably well meant, she concedes, but local government should be channelling resources into addressing school dinners.
She makes a good point. But what business is it of hers and other mothers like her to dictate council policy? Why, that would be meddling in someone elses business.
Its best if parents leave the experts to get on with their jobs and the parents are allowed to get on with theirs…’
I’ll Beale Back
‘I SLEPT with the Cup, says Liverpools captain Steve Gerrard on the Suns front-page.
| EastEnders’ very own Princess Diana |
Good for him, he deserves it. What grown man would not be turned on by the thought of spending the night with his arms wrapped round the huge European Cup, the most coruscating prize in club football?
And, in any case, it makes a change from the usual lurid headlines about footballers sleeping with mistresses and spit roasts.
But if its the seedier side of human life youre after, you need to stick with the Sun, and turn on a few pages to hear the news from the EastEnders set.
No, its nothing as depraved and revolting as Leslie Granthams webcam chat, rather the news that Cindy Beale, the adulterous, murderous character of bygone years might return to the soap.
If you thought [the] Liverpool comeback was amazing, says the Sun, wait till you see what EastEnders are plotting.
You see, Beale never died. It was all a hoax, a make believe death concocted by the police to put Cindy on a witness protection scheme.
EastEnders viewers wept as they watched her funeral, says the Sun, the papers hacks taking up the challenge of creating something as far removed from reality as the soaps plot-challenged writers.
But this is not all. And we can now reveal that not only might Cindy be making a return to the palsied soap, but so too are Babs Windsor, Ross Kemp, Steve McFadden and Mike Reid.
Because in soap especially a failing soap – no-one dies. The actors just stop breathing…’
Old Spice
‘YOU can forget Lazarus, Bobby Ewing and Liverpools unlikely capture of the European Cup, and know that the greatest comeback of them all will occur sometime soon.
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| Nessun Dorma |
Just when you thought it was safe to buy a ticket for Live Aid 2… the Sun brings news that the Spice Girls are to get back together.
Though they were only a glint in the eye of pop guru Simon Fuller back in 1985, when Live Aid aired, Posh, Scary, Sporty, Dopey and Doc will be at the party to celebrate the 20th anniversary of that great charity show.
A source tells the paper that although the girls dance routines will be a bit rusty, the group will still put on a great show.
We could point out that the routines were always a bit dubious, and so long as the girls can kick, pout and strike a pose, no-one will notice any change.
In any case, like all great stars, the fivesome can always rely on their sensational singing voices to see them through.
Its a surprise to us that one of the ensemble hasnt made it big in opera, and didnt scoop a gong at last nights Classical Brit Awards at the Royal Albert Hall.
Deprived of a chance to see Geri Halliwell dressed as Aïda in an outfit made from a pared down Ethiopian flag, teetering forward to collect her award for Best Hair in Opera, the Mail makes do with a long, lingering look at showstopper Katherine Jenkins.
Clad in a £210,000 Kruzynska gown, the 24-year-old blonde is accused by some purists of being the product of a poperatic trend.
Surely not, say we. Katherine is no mere pop tart. Unlike any British female pop star weve seen, Katherine has never to our knowledge dated a footballer, been linked to Robbie Williams or accidentally fallen out of her dress.
She has, however, made a living by singing old songs, or cover versions as they are known in classical circles…’
Chelsea Blues
‘IT would be absurd to accuse a Mail reader of knowing nothing about gardening, but we are forced to question the papers coverage of the Chelsea Flower Show.
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| Ornithogalum (florist’s nighmare) |
On the same day when the Express bemoans modern standards and asks Where have all the smart people gone?, the Mail shocks its readers with a picture of what looks to us like a small, bushy acer palmatum partly obscured by the figure of a naked woman.
What world does the Mail publish in, and why is it allowed to publish in this one, ask we, through lips pursed in disapproval.
Of course, there is a perfectly simple explanation, and when we look at the paper afresh, we note that the nude has an alien quality about it, as if its made of bronze.
The Mail tells us that it is indeed a sculpture, and that such items have been cropping up all over this years hitherto demure show.
And look, there are some more. Lily Sawtells quirky ladies are odd, matronly nudes with pronounced abdomens, shocked eyes and water pouring from their hats. Why, if they arent the perfect companion for any Mail readers garden.
But not so that obscenity lying prostrate in the grass. The grey, lean figure of a muscular man, his modesty concealed behind a tiny and stubborn loin cloth, is too much.
And the statue of a naked man lying spreadeagled on his back has no place in decent society. Even if it dos look like Alan Titchmarsh…’
Di Another Way
‘NEWSPAPERS hold phone polls for the same reason that Saddam Hussein used to hold the occasional election – not to provide an objective measure of public opinion, but to see how close to 100% of the vote they could get.
| ”Let us down and I’ll chop your ruddy head right orf” |
That is why the questions are always more loaded than a 21-year-old George W Bush at a frat party.
Unlike Saddam, however, the papers never quite get the result they want theres always a few readers who misunderstand the question, dial the wrong number or are just plain bloody-minded.
And it only takes a few. 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.
So today we have the Express splashing the sensational headline: 94% OF YOU BELIEVE DIANA WAS MURDERED.
In case that has not taken up enough space on the cover, the paper cracks open the emergency file marked SLOW NEWS DAY and illustrates the data with a shot of Dianas svelte figure, today enshrined in an A-symmetrical blue dress.
One page on, and the Expresss fearless readers, and the six per cent of them who still think the moon is made of cream cheese, are told: Why so many think Diana was murdered.
Its because the publication of the Scotland Yard report into Dianas death, codenamed Operation Paget, has been delayed.
Why so, you ask. Because detectives cannot rule out conspiracy theories that Diana was assassinated.
To the Express, this delay reflects the seriousness and professionalism of the officers working on the case, knowing that millions of people in Britain from all walks of life now believe she was the victim of the Establishment.
Excuse us? We know the Express is The Worlds Greatest Newspaper (that unquestionable truth appears on the front page), but are we to believe that millions of us voted in this phone poll?
Even allowing for repeat callers, this figure is incredibly high.
But the important thing is that their readers have spoken…and their voice will be listened to.
Hell truly hath no fury like a tabloid scorned – and woe betide the reports authors if a verdict of death by murder is not returned…’
The Devil’s Spawn
‘THAT the priapic Crazy Frog is the work of the Devil is beyond doubt.
| ”The things I have to do to keep the shareholders happy” |
And making this product of Beelzebubs spawn appear even more demonic is the Mirrors news that the amphibians song is all set to pip Gods own band Coldplay to the No.1 spot.
At the moment were outselling Coldplay by 4-1 and our presses are having to work day and night to keep up with demand, says Guy Holmes of the record company behind the dire song.
The Sun thinks this is nothing short of a disaster, and in Leapfrogged writes: Its grim news. What on earth is happening to the nation?
It is truly dire. But hold on a second it is a sad indictment on the current music scene, but theres nothing new in awful British pop. Remember Mr Blobby? Paul McCartney And The Frog Chorus? Nick Berry?!
The advice is to turn off the radio, the TV and the mobile phone, slip Cliff Richards Mistletoe & Wine on the stereo and wait until it all goes away and sense is restored…’
Shave It Like Beckham
‘WHEN the cream of British manhood take to the beaches of Faliraki this summer, they will be easy to spot.
| ”I must, I must, I must improve my bust” |
Lining up for the match against the waiters XI, will be around fifty civilising yeoman of the old empire, dressed in cheese-wire-thin G-strings, the hair on the head highlighted and preened, the hair on their bronzed chests waxed off.
The waiters, in turn, will look like the barbarians they surely are, all uneven tans, chest hair and Y-fronts encased in unenlightened shorts.
Whereas British man used to civilise the globe armed with a cup of tea and a suit, he now travels with a Ladyshave, a tub of self-tanning lotion and an ardent desire to display his neatly trimmed back, sack and crack to the locals.
And to thank for this we must salute David Beckham, the footballer, who, in a survey of readers of weekly teen mag Sneak, was found to be the person most boys wanted to be like.
The Mail speaks to the mags editor, Michelle Garnett, who says modern boys obsession with their looks is down to the Beckham body beautiful effect.
This is understandable enough British males have been aping their sporting heroes ever since Dennis Compton put a tub of lard on his head and Kevin Keegan splashed it all over.
But surely the problem is not that they seek to emulate an idol like Beckham, but that most of them are trying to achieve the impossible.
The result is that many end up looking like Paul Gascoigne, or, indeed, Gazzas famous sidekick, the eponymous Jimmy Fivebellies…in knickers.’
A Shaw-Fire Hit
‘ITS not hard to imagine who Darren Day wanted to be like when he was younger. Only, before sticking out his teeth, Darren should have asked himself if Cliff Richard would have walked out on his baby son.
| Suzanne and her shit |
No, he would not have. So when Darren left five-month-old Corey and his fiancée Suzanne Shaw, he finally gave up all hope of being the new Cliff Richard.
This would be a big blow to any performer of Darrens qualities, but he should steel himself for more upset as the Mirror reports that Ms Shaw has recorded a song about the break up.
Called Its Just The Way You Are, the lyrics run: You are poison dragged me down/ You cant stop playing around/ Its just the way you are/ Its just the way you are.
It is, is it not, a song of rare genius. And Suzanne could not have excelled herself greater had she found a word to rhyme with orange, or Day.
Buoyed by that early success, Suzanne goes on: Im sick and tired of your games/ You know youve got shit for brains/ You think its just a cool romance/ But all you do is think of your pants.
Sadly, this work of art is not yet a bona fide single, and remains a demo that was only unearthed by a Radio 1 DJ when he started to dig through his rolodex of PR operatives.
But we feel we are at the outset of a war of words, and eagerly await Darrens response.
Look out for a teary rendition of Corey Doesnt Live Here falling into a bargain bucket somewhere near you…’
Teenage Kicks
‘LIKE most little girls, I knew the names of my children and of course their sexes! says Jools Oliver in the Mail.
| Daisy Boo’s ‘tummy ache’ was a cause for concern |
The wife of the TV chef is now ploughing a furrow as a professional celebrity mum, trumpeting motherhood in a heartwarming, hilarious and cringingly honest way in the paper that matters.
But before we get into how Jamie likes to scatter fresh green leaves over his wifes belly and slow roast her for an hour or more, here are three little girls to back up Jools insight into the pubescent female mind, all members of the Williams family, and all pregnant by their 16th birthdays.
The Sun announces the trio and their brood as the KID SISTERS on its front page, and explains that Jemma was a mum at 12, Jade at 14 and Natasha at 16.
While most siblings crave anothers toy, the Williams girls wanted so much more. And do not doubt that a baby is not a toy. It is an accessory.
All three mothers and their matching accoutrements pop up in the Mail and the Mirror, pleased as punch to pose for the cameras with Lita, T-Jay and Amani in arms.
The three girls are keen to spout forth in the manner of so many Jools Olivers about their births and how babies are just soo amay-zing.
But this is, in truth, a story that can be surmised and fully understood in headline form. As the Mirror succinctly puts it: These three sisters all had babies in their teens. Each year they get benefits of £31,000. So who does their mum blame? ..THEIR SCHOOL.
The girls mum, Julie, says shes sick and tired of people looking down their noses at her girls and their brood, and insists that if sex education was taught in schools at an early age, her girls would not have fallen pregnant so young.
And whats more, they would have aced the practical section of the class, perhaps even delivering a real baby in an insightful and committed coursework finale.
Meanwhile, middle class Jools is teaching us that trying for a baby is brilliant fun, and when she married she hoped that doing all the text book things would get her knocked up in record time.
What text book Jools uses she does not say. But we recommend she reveals all pronto, lest her little Daisy Boo and Poppy Honey get to write about their experiences of pregnancy and childbirth sooner than Jools had hoped…’
No Contest
‘WHAT to most of Europe looked like a failed reality TV show strumpet trying to kick start a faltering career, was nothing less than an exercise in geopolitical spite.
| Javine hears the good news that the UK is to invade Norway |
The Sun says that singer Javine feels hard done by, and is sure that her performance was worth more than the paltry 18 points it garnered.
I didnt feel all the counties voted on performance and songs, says Javine, who failed to fall victim to a wardrobe malfunction and flash a nipple in the Eurovision Song Contest final, as she had done in the British heats.
She makes a good point, and had it not been for squaddies in Cyprus (5 points), relatives in Ireland (8 points) and Jamie Oliver in Turkey (1 point), her score could have been so much more remarkable.
The Sun says the voting is rigged, and reminds readers that Terry Wogan called the votes correctly before they were announced.
Wogan went onto say on the night of the competition that: It isnt a song contest any more its a dance contest, with scantily clad women pawing each other.
But while we can expect to see Wogan back for more next year, the Mirror is less than enthusiastic.
Why theres no point in entering Eurovision, says the paper. And its got scientific proof.
The paper says that a Professor Philippe Le Guern, of Frances Lille University, has looked at the votes and found that the system breaks down into four blocs in the west, east, north and south of Europe.
Nations in the same bloc prefer each other, and are far less likely to vote for any country in a distant bloc.
The result is that Javine looses, and France and Spain are threatening to follow Italys lead and pull out of the contest, so deprive the world of And your strings arent necessary to bind me; I am a beast that would never escape from its cage for love, even if the door was opened from the likes of Spains thrusting Son de Sol Girls.
But the remedy for the UK might be less to withdraw and more to split into its four constituent parts, so affording the chance for some more local votes.
Alternatively, we could get a decent act to perform, or else threaten to invade anyone and everyone who doesnt like us ’
Publish And Be Saddamed
‘READERS with long memories might recall that in the early days of the War on Terror, when pictures of US prisoners of war were released to the public, there was an outcry in America about them being paraded for the media. This was duly presented as a form of abuse.
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| Mirror publishes shot of Saddam’s pants |
Even at the time, the possible consequences of applying this standard were obvious. Any subsequent failure by American troops to maintain impeccable levels of behaviour would leave them wide open to accusations of double standards. Two words sum up what happened next: Abu Ghraib.
So you might think it rather rash of the Sun to devote its entire front cover to a colour photo of Saddam Hussein in his prison cell, clad only in a pair of Y-fronts.
Scrubbing his grubby clothes by hand the beast who had golden bath taps, screeches the headline on page two, opposite a picture of Saddam doing just that. The following pages, with more pictures, are headed: WAITING FOR THE NOOSE.
Even by the Suns standards, capital punishment for having golden bath taps is a bit harsh. Time was when many of the papers own readers would have aspired to a villa in Chigwell with those very same accoutrements.
Perhaps with this in mind, the papers Sun Says editorial column takes a different line, suggesting that keeping Saddam in a rough jail until the day he dies might be a harsher sentence.
Only time will tell what happens to Saddam, but what of the pictures? The Sun is rather coy on this matter, saying only that, after a request from the US government we are NOT publishing any details [of the prisons location] to protect coalition troops from a targeted attack.
This seems to imply that the US government is in some kind of dialogue with the paper, and suggets that they are happy for the pictures to be shown as long as the location is not revealed.
The reality, however, appears to be somewhat different, as the Daily Mail explains. Backlash fear over Saddam pictures, it announces, above a reproduction of the Suns front page.
The paper says that a top-level investigation is underway to discover the source of the leaked picture, which is forbidden under the Geneva Convention and special agreements with the United Nations, the US and its allies.
A Pentagon source is quoted as saying that if the picture is genuine, it might result in a new wave of violence presumably from Shia Muslims and former followers of Saddam.
Unsurprisingly, the Suns own US military sources see things differently. Its important that the people of Iraq see him like that to destroy the myth, they argue. Maybe that will kill a bit of the passion in the fanatics who still follow him.
One things for sure. If this does prove to be a decisive moment in the Iraq conflict, well be left in no doubt that its the Sun wot won it.
Ed Barrett’
Slappy Days
‘VICTIM OF THE SLAPPING CRAZE, announces the front page of the Express.
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| Coming to a mobile near you |
No, its nothing to do with Abi Titmus as Anorak readers know, she has categorically denied all accusations that she is a slapper. (I have had to embrace being sexy and being a sexual person, she explained. But there is a big difference between being that and being a slapper. A big difference.)
Todays story concerns a young girl who was given a black eye during a happy slapping – the craze thats sweeping the nation, in which teenagers attack strangers and film the slapping on their mobile phones.
Becky Smith, the 16-year-old victim in question, obviously had an unpleasant experience and we hope she is feeling better. However, it is another case that interests us.
The paper says that: Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott narrowly escaped becoming a victim when he was confronted by 10 yobs at a service station.
What struck me about it is not only did they come with this kind of uniform but they came with a kind of movie camera to take a film of any such incident, said Prescott afterwards.
Very nasty too, no doubt. All the same, we cant help feeling theres an element of rough justice here. Two Jabs Prescott rose to fame after one of the most famous happy slaps of recent times, when he chinned that mullet-headed farmer a few years back.
Admittedly he didnt film it on his mobile phone, but then he didnt have to there was a whole army of snappers and film crews with a kind of movie camera to take a film. These men proved more than happy to circulate the pictures afterwards.
Granted, he didnt wear a hood, and he held his hands up like a goodun once his temper had subsided.
All the same, hed do well to hold his tongue on this subject eloquent though his views would in a very real sense doubtless be expressed were he to find himself in a position to be ready to do so.
Ed Barrett’
Eccles Fake
‘AND finally…
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| The gnome of Manchester |
Just when you thought that the Manchester United saga couldnt get any darker, theres news of fresh anger and outrage.
The story concerns a Mr Glazier of Eccles… but youre ahead of us arent you?
Sure enough, a solicitor called Malcolm Glazier has been under siege from furious United fans labouring under the misapprehension that he is the Yank tycoon Malcolm Glazer. Thats the Malcolm Glazer who is busy removing their birthright and generally ruining everything by buying the club and, er, turning it into a world-beating outfit that will make Real Madrid look like Charlton Athletic.
The Mirror reveals that he has been swamped by abusive emails. Meanwhile, in nearby Rochdale, the real Malcolm Glazer laughs evilly behind his claw-like hand…
Ed Barrett’
An Unfair Cop
‘HES late for his tea! said Mr Rogers as he handed over three and fourpence for his usual pouch of Old Imperial pouch tobacco.
| No PC Plod |
A police siren wailed in the backround and an unmistakable smell of burning rubber filled the shop.
I expect its that new PC Milton, replied Mrs Hodge, who owned the village shop. He always seems to be in a hurry.
Indeed he does. So much of a hurry that he has been up before the Beak on speeding charges.
The Daily Express reports that PC Milton clocked speeds of up to 159mph in the course of his duties along the highways and byways of Shropshire.
He was eventually stopped by members of his own West Mercia force. And he also stood accused of dangerous driving in his 3.2 litre Vauxhall Vsi described in court as a beast of a car.
Miltons defence was that he was familiarising himself with the motor, and on this occasion the Beak agreed.
I am told that advanced drivers have to keep their skills finely tuned in the same way that batsmen dont walk to the crease at Lords without practising, declared District Judge Bruce Morgan.
Quite right too. But the Express sees things differently. The Criminals Friend (as the paper should be called) has been campaigning against speeding police cars for some time now.
It also believes that theres one rule for the police and another for ordinary drivers when it comes to speeding, and that the police are unfairly targeting them.
On top of this, it whinges that police vehicles have killed more than 30 members of the public.
A cursory examination of this laughable argument reveals it to be as flimsy as Abi Titmuss bikini.
Most crimes are unreported. And most reported crimes are unsolved (through no fault of the police, we hasten to add). It is also well known in police circles that 99 per cent of so-called innocent members of the public are in fact just villains who have yet to be caught.
Everyone keeps asking for criminals to be taken off the streets, but as soon as the boys in blue begin to thin their ranks, theres an outcry. They cant win.
As for the Expresss complaint that its one rule for the police and another for the rest of us well, whats wrong with that. If a policeman isnt allowed to drive faster than a criminal, hows he going to catch him?
They should not need a note from teacher to practise that which they are trained to do, said PC Miltons solicitor.
Hear, hear. And given the frankly suspicious appearance of most teachers – who would probably find it difficult to write their own name, let alone a note thats just as well.
Ed Barrett’
Right Sexy
‘WHY Tory men will always have more VA-VA-VOOM! reveals the Daily Mail.
| Back to basics |
But this is nothing to do with speeding policemen. Its Edwina Currys expert take on the phenomenon of the philandering Conservative MP.
Conservative MPs still have something special about them, opines the scourge of the British egg, and the undoer of former Mr Good Egg, John Major.
The pin-striped suits, maybe. The hint of old money when the name is Rupert or George rather than Dave or Pete.
What about old Dave Mellor, then? Chelsea FC had long abandoned their pin-stripe shirts when he hit the headlines for his nylon-clad antics.
Edwina has thought of that. Although no Adonises, she concedes, the aura of power made such plain men as David Mellor irresistible to younger women.
No one knows what led Andrew Pelling to become an MP. Judging by the papers picture of the first-time member for Croydon South, he probably isnt in the Adonis class, although he no doubt has is charms.
Whatever his appeal, it certainly worked for Lucy Slaytor, with whom he has been conducting a private Nineties revival for some time.
That is to say, he has been cheating on his wife by entering into an adulterous relationship with the aforesaid Slaytor, in the time-honoured fashion of Mellor, Norris and all the other big-hitters from the golden age of Tory sleaze.
He treated me like a doormat, reflects the understandably unhappy Mrs Sanae Umeda Pelling, who knew about the affair, which started when she was away looking after her dying father.
Despite this, she chose not to embarrass her husband by revealing his crimes before the election. (At least we think she said election, although Mrs Pelling is Japanese.)
The Mail reports that Andrew Pellings father spoke from his two-bedroom semi (thats the kind of important property detail that other papers never provide). I cannot tell you how distressing it is, he said (the affair, not the two-bedroom semi). We are normal people.
The paper says that Pelling posted envelopes of housekeeping cash through the letterbox of their £500,000 home in Croydon because he could no longer face her.
Mr Pelling admitted this was true, but chose to accentuate the positive. I am proud that I support my wife and children financially, he said.
Ed Barrett’
Topic Of Cancer
‘STARS ARE BACKING HER EVERY WAY, shouts the Sun, as they return to the biggest story of the week their pink wristbands in support of Kylies battle with breast cancer.
| Sincerity |
Ordinary people can show they care by buying the bands from the Suns 60p-a-minute phoneline, and by sending texts and emails to the paper.
Celebrities, on the other hand, get a nice colour picture of themselves.
Cherie Blair is shown wearing hers and given that its the first day of the campaign, she probably got it from a bona fide source, rather than eBay, where she often shops.
Nell McAndrew is shown too, as are Lorraine Kelly, Wendi Peters and Maxine Carr. Oh, hang on, forget the last one.
Out of 20,000 bands, 10,000 are still available, says the paper. Although if all you want to do is show you care, you could just wrap a piece of pink paper round your wrist and spend the pound on fags.
Ed Barrett’
She Should Be So Plucky
‘NO prizes for guessing the lead story in todays tabloids, with the news of Kylies breast cancer diagnosis.
| Time to think of Kylie’s breasts |
The papers all run page after page of tributes to the much-loved singer. In the case of the Sun, it also allows them to jump aboard a popular bandwagon for breast cancer is certainly one of the most high-profile, dare one say fashionable, causes around.
The paper offers wristbands, which cost a pound (via its own 60p-a-minute phoneline), with the proceeds going to Breast Cancer Care.
Of course, you could simply donate money directly, but that isnt the point. WEAR IT FOR KYLIE, orders the headline. A £1 wristband will show you care.
The following page contains a prominent box headed Where to buy the band. But heres betting that once the initial stock is sold out, they will start coming up for sale on eBay as have previous wristbands for popular causes such as Radio Ones anti-bullying crusade.
If you are outbid on eBay, you can always send your message to Kylie via the pages of the Sun, using a special email address set up for the purpose, or join the worlds biggest online get-well card on the Sun website.
Or you could do none of the above, and live with the knowledge that ITS ALL YOUR FAULT.’
Reality Love
‘EVERY cloud has a silver lining, and the Kylie story has allowed the papers to quietly sideline their Love Island coverage.
| Tonight Peter and Jordan will be watching each other |
This will come as a relief, as the much-hyped ITV show is proving nearly as big a flop as the stations recent Celebrity Wrestling disaster, which was ignominiously dropped after a couple of weeks.
TURNED OFF, declares the Mirror. ONE MILLION viewers desert Love Island on its first night.
All the tabloid columnists give the programme a well-deserved kicking, but the Sun gives the biggest kicking of the lot, courtesy of gusset sorry, guest pundit Jordan.
Since becoming pregnant I like nothing better than settling down in front of the telly, she reveals, as she gets comfy in her favourite armchair, with a packet of Hob-Nobs on the armrest and little Peter Andre balanced on her bump.
Celebrity Love Island is complete dross, she opines, describing it as a boring show full of fame-hungry, no-mark celebrities.
Hear, hear. But theres more.
None of the so-called celebs on the show are remotely interested in finding love they are just trying to boost their profiles.
And before you start getting clever, and pointing out that she and Peter were once drawn together by a shared desire to boost their profiles via reality TV, consider this: When Pete and I went into the jungle, the attraction was there and we fell for each other… You cant manufacture chemistry.
Of course, viewers have the option of turning off, and many have already done so. But chez Jordan, there is a problem. Turn off the box and youve still got two fame-hungry no-marks trying to work out how to boost their profile.
In fact, that could be the way forward: a celebrity Royle Family, in which former reality stars grumble their way through Love Island from the comfort of their celebrity living-rooms.
Time to get the webcam up and running, Katie P.’
Call Girls
‘HI, Im Steph. A hot blonde, a perfect 10… and I fiddle my benefits.
| You alright in there Wayne? |
Well, pleased to meet you, Steph. And as long as its just benefits you fiddle, and you dont go near any kiddies, then well turn a blind eye, what with you being blonde and all.
But of course, the headline we quote is in fact an example of heavy irony. The Star is simply drawing attention to the fact that the perfect 10 is the sort of aural description given on sex chatlines, which are usually staffed by women who have the sort of face that is made for radio, or in this case, the telephone.
The specific case in question is that of 45-year-old Steph Nield, who judging by the papers photo is neither blonde nor a perfect 10.
She has just been found guilty of fraudulently claiming benefits while working as a dirty talker, and has been told to pay back £20,000 at a rate of £8 a week.
The Star says it will take decades to clear the debt, but she should beware of people coming to her with get-rich-quick schemes.
In three years time she will be 48, and living in Manchester as he does, she could well find herself in demand among the kind of young man with lots of money, ginger hair, and a taste for older women.
Dont say we didnt warn you, Steph.’
Loos Women
‘WE All know that the Sun and Star will be salivating over the ins and outs at Love Island, but how will the quality tabloid be treating events?
| Pigging out in paradise |
Having failed (so far at least) to find any link to asylum seekers or house prices, and having taken the moral high ground on the issue of promiscuity, we can expect ITVs freak show to get short shrift from the self-appointed guardians of middle England at the Mail.
Sure enough, irascible media pundit Stephen Glover uses the show as a prime example of ITVs shameful 50th anniversary, and predicts that the love in the shows title will mean sex.
He then speculates that not all of this sex will be of an entirely straightforward variety.
His fears seem to be borne out when one turns to the news pages.
Theres a surprise! announces the headline on page 7, with the papers customary heavy sarcasm, …it takes just one episode for Love Island to descend into sleaze with two women sharing a bed.
Thatll have the Mail readers clucking their marmalade-covered tongues in disapproval, and it will come as no surprise to learn that those hussies Abi Titmus and Rebecca Loos are at the bottom of it.
The paper reminds us that Titmus shot to fame after three-in-a-bed sex sessions with John Leslie, while Loos is described, rather sniffily, as the former PA who claims to have had an affair with David Beckham.
Since then, of course, both ladies have become full-blown celebrities, with Titmus taking up glamour modelling and Loos recently declaring herself bisexual.
Yet for all their willingness to parade their talents in the public, they are hurt when it is suggested that their moral character is questioned in any way.
Last night Titmus rounded on fellow contestant Fran Cosgrave when he carelessly described her as promiscuous.
I am not promiscuous and its not nice for a girl to be called that, complained the former nurse. To which the obvious reply would be: What would you prefer to be called? (Readers can fill in their own choice of epithet here.)
Titmus later reflected on the exchange in the diary room. I have had to embrace being sexy and being a sexual person, she explained. But there is a big difference between being that and being a slapper. A big difference.
Perhaps. Once the competition starts in earnest, the pressure to produce love, and the promise of £50,000, will soon establish how big the difference between the embracing of sexuality and slapperdom really is.
Jayne Middlemas has yet to embrace her inner slapper, but the lure of a post-coital fag might tempt her. Its driving me mental already, she wailed. All I want is a cigarette and I dont even smoke.’
Nice Try
‘DURING Prince Harrys 2003 working trip to Australia, he was criticised for taking advantage of the happy coincidence that the so-called rugby world cup was taking place there at the same time.
| Have a scrummy time, Wills |
He was the guest of Clive Woodward and went into the teams dressing room after their dramatic victory in the final.
Now its the turn of his older brother to enjoy a stroke of good fortune. The Star reports that Prince William will be in the Pacific Islands carrying out his first solo engagements on behalf of the Queen. This will be once again be combined with an invitation from Clive Woodward (now Sir Clive, of course) to take in some rugger, namely the British & Irish Lions matches against the All Blacks.
William is a big fan of rugby and is really looking forward to going to New Zealand, said Williams spokesman Paddy Harverson, although he was of course mindful of the fact that the real purpose of the trip is to commemorate World War II. He is proud to be representing the Queen, he added.
However, a spokesman for the Lions suggested that there might be more to the trip than meets the eye. Prince William has indicated that he wants to get his hands dirty, he said. This, apparently, could involve all manner of things.
The Sun reports that young Harry, who cant join in because of his gruelling military course at Sandhurst is green with envy.
No further questions.’
Lip Service
‘GORDON Ramsay, erstwhile rudest man on TV, is up to his tricks again.
| Fructose how he gets away with it |
He has defied attempts by TV chiefs to cub his Tourette-style tongue, and plans to swear more than ever on his latest series of Ramsays Kitchen Nightmares.
In a futile move worthy of Roger Mellies long-suffering producer, the moguls have suggested that he used food-based alternatives such as fructose instead of f*** knows.
The Sun says that Ramsay regards the kitchen as a constant battle its not like being some IT consultant in a nice little office.
He adds that he tries to set a good example at home, because I dont want my daughter telling her friend to eff off in the playground.
Indeed. The correct phrase is fuck off, and the sooner she learns it, the better.’
Turkey Shoot
‘ALL set for TV island Love-in, announces the Mirror, as the tabloids gear up for todays first episode of Celebrity Love Island.
| ”And when she got there, her nipples were bare…” |
And in the now customary fashion, Abi Titmus and Co. are happy to use the good offices of the fourth estate to announce their social plans.
The Sun says that Abi and Rebecca Loos have already stunned staff at the hotel spa by STRIPPING and FLIRTING outrageously. And Fran Cosgrave promises or threatens a foursome involving himself, Loos, Titmus and Calum Best, son of celebrity drinker George.
Yet when it comes to shocking behaviour, theyll be hard pressed to beat tonights other reality offering, The Farm.
This, you will recall, is the vehicle that introduced Loos into the world of celebrity freak shows last year, when she was shown pleasuring a pig.
This years offering looks all set to repeat the trick, and the paper is already foaming at the mouth over tonights episode.
YUK! it announces. Outrage as turkeys are pleasured on farm.
All the gory details follow, including Emma Bs offer to suck, and Lionel Blairs excited comments about the prodigious quantities of semen involved.
Halfway through the article, Anoraks correspondent had to pinch himself to check that he wasnt in the middle of a particularly horrendous nightmare.
We here at Anorak do not usually find ourselves in agreement with Jamie Oliver, but if he is prepared to extend his campaign to include these particular Turkey Twizzlers, then well be the first to sign up.’
Born To Booze
‘ILL SAVE YOU, GAZZA, says the Star. Or rather, says Chris Evans, for the copper-headed funster has extended the hand of friendship to his troubled pal Paul Gascoigne, and offered to put him up at his gaff, rather than the American clinic that the larger-than-life footballer currently calls home.
| Gazza and some empty glasses |
The paper describes Gazza as suicidal, which doesnt bode well for his latest business venture. For the Sun reports that Gascoigne is to publish a self-help manual called Face Your Fears, which will help readers deal with their inner demons and give them strength in their battles.
Directly underneath this is another story, whose story offers Gazza a terrible warning of what the future might hold: Yoga is best for George.
It seems that Bestie has been drinking in the last-chance saloon again, and has checked into Tony Adams Sporting Chance clinic after weeks of boozing.
He is now practising the Bhuddhist art five times a day the idea being to try the exercises whenever he wants a drink.
It seems to be working three days into the programme he could already drink from a glass of white wine held between his toes.
Now if he could just get the hang of those turkeys, he could be in business ’
Nice Little Learners
‘THEY say you cant teach an old dog new tricks but in the case of Dot Branning that might not be true. Since meeting her new driving instructor, Mr Rawlins (call me Michael please he purred), Dot seems determined to get to grips with his gear stick.
| ‘The Stick’ |
Mr Rawlins, viewers will have spotted, is none other than Gunner Gloria Beaumont from It Aint Half Hot Mum. What with Private Pike from Dads Army living with the Fowlers and DS Beech from The Bill as the Squares new Mr Big, Walford is fast becoming a graveyard full of half-dead stars of yesteryear.
Surely its only a matter of time before Mr Humphries is trilling Im free! while chasing Dennis around the bookies.
It says much about Walford that while Coronation Street attracts the likes of Peter Kay and Sir Ian McKellan for cameo sports, EastEnders is reduced to scraping the bottom of the 1970s light entertainment barrel.
Driving instructor Rawlins has been drafted in to form a comedy love triangle between Dot and Jim. Patrick Truman is doing his best to wind up Jim, telling him that the dapper Mr Rawlins has got less-than honourable intentions towards his wife.
Jim went rushing out into the street to confront the pair as they sat in the car. Go away, Jim, Ive paid for my time with Mr Rawlins and youre wasting it, Dot haughtily told him. Well as least she knows that if you pay by the hour, every second counts.
Elsewhere in the Square, Ruby has finally caught onto the fact that her dads new girlfriend isnt so new after all and were not just talking about the ring marks around her scraggy neck. Ruby and Stacy discovered the couples secret when they came across a picture of Jonny on holiday with Tina.
The pair have been pretending that theyve only just started dating so that his daughter wouldnt realise that while her mother and sister were burning to death in a house fire daddy dearest was getting his leg over Skelators twin sister.
There are more family secrets over at the Fowlers as Pauline cant leave her granddaughter Chloe alone, although she promised Sonia shed have nothing more to do with her.
Paulines persuaded Ian that faaamily is all that matters and that if Martin and Sonia dont want to bring little Chloe up, then she does. It takes more strength to let it go than hold on, Sonia sobbed to Pauline, although whether she was discussing her daughter or her third pie of the day was unclear.
Walfords latest worthy cause – hot on the heels of rape, incest, breast cancer and HIV – is adult literacy. Keith Miller is struggling to keep the Square from finding out that his reading level is about the same as his six-month-old granddaughters.
Hes promised son Darren that hell learn to read in return for Darren not skipping school, but so far Keith hasnt even managed to enrol in the adult literacy class which has handily just started up in the Square.
I was scared to go out – someone might see me and laugh at me, he told his son, I was embarrassed. He shouldnt worry – surely the entire cast of Eastenders feels the same ’
