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.
Who’s The Daddy?
”WHO’S The Daddy?’ asks the Express’s headline. And for once the answer is not David Blunkett.
‘Thong or novelty briefs, Carole?’ |
In truth, we don’t know the answer, only the producers behind an American TV show – which sees a young woman who was adopted at birth look at an eight-strong line-up and try to figure out which man is her father – do.
If she selects her real daddy, the lucky girl will win the equivalent of £50,000 and get to be suddenly very popular with her long lost pop.
This is certainly cutting-edge TV and, although a load of nodding heads line up to damn the show as ‘repulsive’, it represents another chance to watch someone truly suffer, which after all is what reality TV is all about.
And it’s no less or more revolting than some of the other reality TV shows to have made it onto the American networks.
There’s The Littlest Groom, a dating show for dwarves; The Swan, where makeovers include plastic surgery; and an episode of 20/20 where veteran US broadcaster Barbara Walters (think Trevor McDonald in white make-up and wig) allowed five couples to compete to adopt the same child on air.
But the real salacious bit can be found in the Star, where we learn that Carole Caplin is to appear on a reality TV show here in Blighty.
The former topless model, and lifestyle guru to the Blairs, has been signed up to appear on Celebrity Big Brother.
Will Carole do for the Blairs what Paul Burrell has done for the Windsors and drop the occasional hint about life in the big house?
The Express thinks – or is that hopes? – Caplin will spell ‘Big Bother for Blair’, as she tells us about the underpants she chose for him – you know, the ones with the picture of Margaret Thatcher on the front and the words ‘Property of Cherie’ on the back.
But that can wait – you want to know who else will be in the house.
And the Express can tell you the incarcerated celebs will include ‘bereaved mother’ Mandy Allwood, racing pundit John McCirick and goalkeeper-turned prophet David Icke.
And a man with a beard and dog who only wants to be known as ‘daddy’…’
Coleen On Me
‘MOVE over, Victoria Beckham, there’s a new footballer’s wife who wants to be a singer.
‘In your dreams, Martin Fowler’ |
The Sun says that Wayne Rooney’s girlfriend, the tanned and highlighted Coleen McLoughlin, intends to make it big in the world of popular music.
In between shopping trips, Coleen has been taking singing lessons from voice coach Jennifer John and spending time at Liverpool’s Sense Of Sound studio.
‘She loves singing and has recorded some tracks,’ says a ‘pal’ of Coleen’s. ‘She has lots of time and money on her hands.’
But while Coleen warbles her cover version of ‘Maggie May’, the song that tells of a young boy caught up in the fading allure of an older woman, and ‘Big Spender’, the Sun has more news of tomorrow’s stars.
In a world where talent seems inextricably linked with how loud you can shout, the Sun says that EastEnders’ walking tree Michelle Ryan is to quit the soap for a career in…
Can you guess? Yes, those of us who have seen Ryan’s acting abilities also said ‘a sawmill’, ‘forestry’ and ‘DFS’, but the real answer is ‘Hollywood’.
And that’s not the Hollywood Bowl in Basildon, nor is it Hollywood in Worcestershire, but Hollywood in America, the one with the big hillside lettering and so much tinsel.
And if that’s not fanciful enough, a ‘source says that agents want to turn Michelle into the next Kiera Knightly’.
Says Ryan: ‘I’d love to do a Bond movie. Sometimes I’m mistaken for Liv Tyler.’
And it’s a likeness that could be Ryan’s route into the big time.
The Lord of the Rings trilogy, in which Tyler starred, featured many talking trees – and how novel it would be if one actually looked like the actress.’
Jam Tomorrow
‘ENOUGH of this showbiz lite nonsense and time now for some serious politicking.
‘Where’s bloody He-Man? He’s late…’ |
And so we go to the Mirror for news of the latest daring caper by Fathers 4 Justice, the group that demands the right for middle-aged men not to be persecuted for dressing up as superheroes.
And the group’s latest plan is nothing short of genius as the paper tells how it will bring the M25 to gridlock.
The group’s leader, Matt O’Connor, tells the paper: ‘We have got people ready to shut it down – and I mean shut it down.
‘There will be gantries, banners and people dressed as Father Christmas right across the motorway.
So much for the entertainment – what about the food?
‘I’m also told that someone has got their hands on two tonnes of jam, which may be spread on the carriageway.’
And if Spider-Man can bring a couple of Aunt May’s huge sponges, and Wolverine some whipped cream, everyone can enjoy a huge Victoria Sponge.
It sounds like a terrific idea; to put the jam in the traffic will make everyone that has to endure the road to nowhere that much happier.’
Ashes To Ashes
‘APART from the binge sex and the binge vomiting, very little goes better with a bout of binge drinking than a night of binge smoking.
Marie was a big fan of the new B&H 1000s |
The Express has seen a report by the European School Survey Project of Alcohol And Other Drugs (or ESSPAAOD – ”PISSED” in Slovakian) and found that 29% of British 15 and 16-year-old girls are binge drinking, compared to 26% of boys.
Even allowing for the effects of talking up your drinking to impress your mates, this is pretty interesting news, and gets more so when we learn that a decade ago the figures were, respectively, 20% of girls and 24% of boys.
This means that around a quarter of today’s youth will live to a ripe old age, fortified and pickled in ten parts hooch to six parts vodka. Hurrah!
But only if they smoke will they live to be as old as the Sun’s Marie Ellis, who has recently died of heart failure at the ripe old age of 105.
It is however unlikely that Marie, or her ghost, will appear on a Government-sponsored advert to tell how the half a million fags she smoked in her lifetime gave her the strength to carry on through two world wars and one Tony Blair – even if the tax she paid on them bankrolled the invasion of Iraq.
The perils of smoking have been made clear, but still Marie managed a long life – she even possessed the strength to clutch a packet of her favourite Benson & Hedges longevity sticks to her bosom as she lay in her coffin.
Staff and residents at the nursing home where Marie smouldered stood well back as she was cremated (surely, stamped out) to the tune of Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, and lay a floral tribute in the shape of a ciggie in her honour.
”We all remember Marie for smoking,” says Maria Kallis, a matron of Eaton Lodge, Westgate, Kent, ”so we are getting a concrete ashtray put in the garden as a memorial to her.”
And that’s just a lovely way to remember a woman who ”loved a drop of sherry” – a woman who binge lived…’
Rocket Man Attacks
‘LET’S play a game of celebrity short-cuts. If we say ”Rocket Man”, who do you think of?
”Gentlemen, to your handbags please” |
That’s right, Buzz Aldrin, the world famous astronaut who lent part of his name to a Christmas toy that says ”To infinity and beyond” and ”I hate that Neil Armstrong”.
Some of the fruits hanging on what George Michael calls the ”gay grapevine” will perhaps have opted for Elton John, the old pocket rocket who has now lunched a broadside at his fellow singer.
The Mirror writes that, in an interview, Elton says George needs to ”get out more” because he is in ”a strange place” – or Hampstead, as it’s known to George’s legion of fans and stalkers.
And Elton goes on: ”He’s quite happy just being at home all the time and I think that’s a waste of talent. But it’s his life not mine. There seems to be a deep-rooted unhappiness in his life and it shows on his latest album” – a recording Elton finds ”disappointing”.
To the Star, this is nothing short of front-page news (”YOU BITCH, ELT”), and it continues the story inside as George bites back.
In a barbed comment about Elton’s age (body of a 97-year-old boy; mind of a 14-year-old girl), George says: ”I will always be grateful for the inspiration that he gave me as a child”.
So, as Elton leads with the Dolce & Gabbana clutch bag, George swings his Prada bucket bag over his head in a battle the Mirror calls ”HANDBAGS”.
But – look out! – there’s more. George has penned an open letter to a showbiz magazine, one seen by the Mail, in which he says: ”Elton John knows very little about George Michael, and that’s a fact.”
And at once we have to stop things right there. Sorry, boys, but as soon as one of you starts talking about yourself in the third person, the fight is over.
Gentlemen…drop your handbags.
The winner by way of a technical knockout is Elton John. The loser is George Michael. And let’s have no more said about it…’
Dicky Ticker
‘ARE you awake?
Music’s answer to Harold Shipman |
Not sure? Try pinching yourself. Feel anything? No!? Hmmm… You might just be dead – or feeling the ill effects of too much Richard Clayderman.
But how much is too much of the pianist? We suggest that you take no risks and even a single note is overdoing it.
If anyone this holiday season puts one of the Frenchman’s recordings on the stereo, best smash it and them to pieces lest you die.
And do not think this is any way a lesson born of spite – it’s simply a matter of us taking care of your health.
For what’s good for the patients at Lodgeside Surgery in Kingswood, Bristol, is good for you too.
There sick and lame waiting to see that surgery’s doctors complained that the music in the waiting room – Clayderman, Beethoven, Mozart – was depressing them.
As surgery manager Martyn Nicholls tells the Express: ”Patients said the music was too dull, so we bought some new CDs.
”We used to have middle-of-the-road stuff, mainly Richard Clayderman playing classical music.”
And that produced in many listeners a crushing sense of isolation and loss that no amount to Prozac could remedy.
So there’s a new sound at the surgery. It’s George Michael. One bar of him and everyone’s feeling much better – expect for one odd little man dressed as Marie Antoinette, who’s moaning horribly…’
A Tongue Lashing
‘IT’S not often a voice sticks up for Jamie Oliver, and let’s not make ours the first.
Jamie suffered a fat lip in the fracas |
It’s only right and proper that when the Star says the National Consumer Council has ”slammed” supermarkets for selling junk food, it illustrates the piece with a shot of Oliver eating.
The man hired to give Sainsbury’s a pukka edge is now credited with owning and running said purveyors of crap, as the caption to the picture makes clear: ”RAPPED: Jamie Oliver’s Sainsbury’s.”
But, as the Sun says, Oliver is a ”mild-mannered fella” and will not take unkindly to being handed over a huge corporation, even if it does sell rubbish.
Even he can be pushed too far, however, and we read with no little shock – and more than a smidgeon of pleasure – that he has had a fight with 1950s throwback Mark Lamarr.
We will never condone fighting here at Anorak Towers, although surely an exchange of handbags between two Mockney wideboys like Wiltshire hard man Lamarr and Essex likely lad Oliver is a win-win situation.
But, as is the way with the papers, they still like to tell us the story, to give us some facts by way of background, to put this fight in some kind of context.
So, before we call gather round in a circle and call upon the pair to beat the living daylights out of each other, we are introduced to the setting, which happens to be an exhibition of Ronnie Wood’s paintings at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane.
It seems that for some time now the cretinous Lamarr has been ragging the generously tongued Oliver about – get this! – the way Jamie speaks.
Having had a few drinks at the bar, and buoyed up by a chortling gang of lickspittles, TV presenter Lamarr staggered over to Oliver to give him a piece of his mind.
The first few snide remarks Oliver laughed off, but Lamarr would not stop there and threw another insult at his rival.
And that was when the nice boy snapped. Jumping off his scooter – he always sits astride a scooter – Oliver lunged for the odious twerp and grabbed his massive, oversized collar.
At this moment, Jools, Oliver’s sidekick and employee at his Sainsbury’s stores, began shouting and telling her husband to stop it.
But Oliver wasn’t having any of it, and ‘forgetting’ to remove his trademark scooter helmet, he threw back his tousled bonce and headbutted Lamarr’s grinning, syrupy face.
Or, rather, he didn’t. Oliver did as his wife implored and let Lamarr go. It could have been nasty…but it wasn’t. No-one was hurt.
Which, as we are sure you will agree, is a very good thing…’
A Non-Mobile Feast
‘THANKS to Jamie Oliver, 40% of mums spend 20 hours shopping for Christmas food, presents and decorations – twice as long as men.
”Hang on a sec, I’ve almost got it” |
A survey conducted by Woolworths, and now reproduced in the Mirror, says that one in five women spend five hours wrapping gifts, compared to one in 20 men.
And one in five women ”slaves away” in the kitchen preparing Christmas dinner, yet only one in four drudges get any help from those so-called men.
This is cutting-edge stuff from the cutting-edge paper.
And looking at that hard news, it’s pretty clear that mums need all the time off they can get – mums like Posh Beckham.
Sticking with the Mirror, readers learn that Posh and her husband have hired a £1,000-a-day butler to help out around the house this Christmas and to spend four hours wrapping the presents they’ve bought family and friends.
(We, of course, get our gifts delivered in person from the couple we consider friends, and expect this year to be no exception.).
But for those with nothing better to do than rock up chez Beckham this Christmas, a man will be on hand to help with those troublesome sheets of wrapping paper and that hellish sticky tape.
Our man in the monkey suit has also be instructed to pass among the gusts before dinner and collect mobile phones to ensure there are no disturbances during meal times.
And that Day-vid behaves himself…’
Sooty & Sweep
‘JAMIE Oliver should be ashamed of himself.
”Have you got your NVQs, kids?” |
Yes, for fighting in public. And yes, for that other thing. But chiefly he should be castigated for the mince pies on sale at his chain of Sainsbury’s supermarkets. They are a disgrace.
For starters, since when has tongue been a viable ingredient in a pie? And where’s the mince?
As the Mail says, there should be real beef mince in a mince pie, and 350 years ago, beef, lamp or veal was an ”essential” ingredient in the seasonal treat.
So, the paper has produced a recipe to show Jamie and us how to make them the proper way, with a handy hint to ensure the mince is parboiled for ten minutes and allowed to cool before being stuffed inside the pastry shell.
Very soon, all your Christmases will be like those good old holidays of yesteryear.
And – hark! – what’s that noise coming from the chimney? It sounds like a man. And he’s coming down.
Hang on a mo, this chap’s got a black face and, in the Mail’s eyes, that isn’t right – it can’t be Santa, he’s as white as the driven snow.
Which means… Steady on. Have a sip of sherry and don’t panic, good Mail reader, it’s not a burglar either – it’s just the local chimney seep.
As the paper says, Britain’s old chimneys are coming back to life as we eschew the obvious charms of central heating for a real fire.
And that means the return of the sweep, and the arrival of an NVQ is ”chimney engineering”.
”It is very high-tech now and everyone is qualified and certified to the highest Government standards,” said a spokesman for the National Association of Chimney Sweeps.
Before his mum gave him a clip round the ear and sent him off to bed…’
Whacks Works
‘WITHOUT Ozzy, reality TV and mass marketing, Sharon Osbourne would just be another over-hyped wannabe with two dysfunctional children and a pair of questionable breasts.
All of us have our crosses to bear |
And one man who has had enough of this pernicious breed has taken some direct action.
Seeing the statues of the Virgin Mary Posh and her husband David Joseph in the Madame Tussaud’s nativity scene, an unknown young visitor could take no more.
As the Sun says (”POSH AND BECKS BATTERED BY YOB”), a ”crazed attacker” caused ”extensive damage” to the waxwork models of the duo when he smashed their faces in.
Managers of the tourist attraction are right now studying video footage of the man repeatedly banging his fists into the waxy faces of the world’s favourite couple.
Over and over again they will see the angry young man bury his knuckle sandwich into Posh’s mouth and Dave’s head, pounding away in what a spokesman for the museum brilliantly calls ”an unprovoked attack”.
As the Mail says, the result is severe bruising to the couple’s faces, and the grim realisation that it is unlikely the models will be fully repaired before the display closes on January 3.
And since everyone knows that Posh gave birth to her little bay-bee Jee-sus some time before that, a stand-in couple are very much needed.
Although, given the nature of the job – the ability to do nothing other than look waxy and pout for hours at a time – the real Posh might just fill the void.
Providing anyone can work out which one she is…’
A Christmas Turkey
‘AS turkeys go, few come bigger than Swept Away, the film directed by Guy Ritchie, starring Madonna and The Bernard Matthews Players.
The bat’s not the only wooden thing in this scene |
But there’s a bigger flightless bird on its way and its name is Revolver.
In a real departure for Ritchie, the Mirror says that his latest movie will be a gangster caper set in the East End of London.
We are not at liberty to reveal too much about it, but it stars Jason Statham, an actor with a range so shallow that even Mrs Ritchie will not look out of her depth alongside him.
To save her further embarrassment, the entire film is set in a carpenter’s yard near Epping Forest.
For once, the most wooden thing in the film may not be Madonna…’
The Letters Game
‘OI, take your eyes off Carol Vorderman for a minute and take a look at todays Countdown conundrum – C-H-R-I-S-M-T-A-S.
T-A-R-T-Y |
Okay, so the clocks ticking…and what have you got. CAT? SAT? MAT? Yes, all good, but we suspect youre not trying hard enough.
You are what experts from the Social Issues Research Centre would describe as lazy.
You see, the Express says that psychologists there reckon the words you first see among a jumbled group of letters says a lot about your personality.
Take the letters G-H-N-O-P-R-Y. The lazy person will choose HOG or HOP; the ordinary person will choose PRY; the sexual person will opt for HORNY; the negative person will go for PONG, the creative type will see PONY and the smart will come up with GRYPHON.
The centres Peter Marsh says peoples responses are influenced by what is known as their attentional set.
If you have a particularly high sex drive, you will probably be seeing a lot of sexually related words, he tells the Express.
We might also expect the occupation of a professional person to be reflected in the words they identify.
So, going back to our original conundrum, what words did you spot?
If you came up with CHASM, youre negative; if you saw STAIRS, youre creative; if you saw MASH, youre probably Vanessa Feltz; if you saw CHRISTMAS, youre ordinary – and if you saw HOLIDAY SEASON, then you should apply for a job at your local council.’
Seeing Double
‘ITS been a bad week for the Beckhams first they discovered there was no room for them in the stable and their places had been given to some unknown carpenter and his missus.
The kiss of life |
Now they read in this mornings Sun that they have further competition in the shape of England footballer Ashley Cole and Girls Aloud singer Cheryl Tweedy.
The paper spies the couple on a shopping expedition to Bluewater in Kent – and suggests they are even being compared to Posh and Becks.
However, judging by the resultant pictures, Ashley and Cheryl have a long way to go before they can take over from the Blessed Couple.
Cheryl blew her Posh credentials when she was actually seen eating in public and, as for Ashley, no amount of boot polish will make him as black as Becks.
Michael Douglass wife Catherine Zeta Jones, on the other hand, faces much more serious competition in the shape of George Clooneys girlfriend Lisa Snowdon.
The Mail says the two looked almost identical as they arrived for the premiere of Oceans 12 at Graumans Chinese Theatre in Hollywood.
Both wore shimmering gowns with plunging lines to accentuate their ample cleavage Lisa in white, Catherine in pink, it says.
Both bucked Hollywood tradition by waving their wavy brunette hair down and flowing. Both wore matching silver shoes.
And, best of all, they were both on the arms of silver-haired movie legends in the shape of Douglas and Clooney.
Although, we rather suspect in the former case that he may have been on his wifes arm…’
Off The Pace
‘HOW quickly we forget! How soon the laughter dies!
”Go on, give it your best shot” |
The Star reports that Johnny Vegas has been voted the funniest man in Britain ahead of Brass Eyes Chris Morris and Phoenix Nights Peter Kay in a poll for Esquire magazine.
Office star Ricky Gervais, last years flavour of the, er, year, is a lowly ninth, behind Ali Gs alter ego Sacha Baron Cohen and – embarrassingly – Jonathan Ross.
But the real shock is that yet again there is no place in the Top 10 for the true geniuses of British comedy.
The only men who could build a whole career on dressing up in a black tie and saying Ron a lot.
The mirth-meisters themselves, the champions of the chuckle, the godfathers of the guffaw…Gareth Hale and Norman Pace.
We remember you, even if no-one else does.’
The Wise Women
‘THE nativity story certainly supports the view that women are brighter than men.
”No, I’m not telling porkies, it really is bigger than his” |
How else do you explain the fact that Mary managed to persuade her husband that a ghost had got her up the duff and that technically she was still a virgin?
Certainly, Barry Sheerman, chairman of the education select committee, thinks that is the case.
The Mail reports that the father-of-four told fellow MPs yesterday that the reason girls outperformed boys at school was because they were brighter.
But are they?
A study published in the Express suggests otherwise.
It claims that Mary was not alone in telling porkies to her husband.
A whopping 96% of women lie regularly, not only about trivial things such as the price of a pair of shoes or the notion that size doesnt matter.
Half of all women would lie about the paternity of their child although admittedly It was the Holy Ghost wot done it does not feature in the Top 10 fibs.
But asked what they would do for £1m, two thirds would give up chocolate for ever, 64% would go without make-up, 38% would enter a loveless marriage, 34% would give up sex…and only 25% would run naked down their local High Street.
Thats right 75% of women would not take their clothes off for all of a couple of minutes in return for £1,000,000.
And theyre the clever ones?!’
Saturday Night Migraine
‘KYM Marsh wouldnt get out of bed and run down the local high street naked for less than a million.
Will wash cars for cash |
She doesnt need to not only has she got a successful singing career in her own right, but shes married to talented former EastEnders actor Jack Ryder.
Their combined earning potential is something truly staggering something, at least, with a lot of noughts in it.
But Jack is resting at the moment the strain of playing Jamie Mitchell in the BBC soap took a lot out of one so young and Jack has taken an extended creative break to recuperate.
And now wife Kym has decided to join him at home.
The Mirror reports that the 28-year-old will not have her contract in West End musical Saturday Night Fever renewed.
She has, the paper says, been plagued by migraines throughout her stint on stage and on one occasion failed to appear for the second half of a performance.
And producers apparently decided to get in Rebecca Dent, winner of Channel 4s Musicality programme, to play Annette instead.
However, a spokeswoman for Kym insisted that there was no question of her having been dropped.
She wasnt having a new contract, she said. It was never going to be any longer.
After all, the car needs washing and Jacks far too busy to do it on his own…’
The C Word
‘SO, is this really the most OFFENSIVE image in Britain? asks the Sun of a picture depicting what looks at first glance like a traditional nativity scene.
Mr and Mrs C word |
It is only on closer inspection that we begin to understand the papers anger.
For, in the lead role cradling the infant Messiah are not David and Victoria (as we are accustomed to seeing) but a non-celebrity couple from Nazareth.
The bearded man is identified as one Mr Joseph Christ, a carpenter, and his wife Mrs Mary Christ, a virgin.
How they came to replace the Beckhams in the lead roles is a story for another day, but it is little wonder that politically correct jobsworths are trying to have the image banned.
And the Sun has launched its own Save Our Christmas campaign to try to preserve the traditional image of David and Victoria (and their nanny) cradling the infant Brooklyn.
Festive traditions are facing gradual extinction, it says, thanks to barmy [are there any other kind?] bureaucrats who WRONGLY believe they are offensive to followers of religions other than Christianity.
The Red Cross, for instance, has apparently banned staff from putting up advert calendars that contain pictures of David and Victoria or anything else connected with Christmas.
Library bosses in High Wycombe have banned posters advertising carol services; council bosses in Luton have renamed their Christmas lights Luminos; and jobcentres have been ordered to take down Christmas trees and decorations in offices used by customers.
But most offensive of all is the growing practice of sending out greetings cards featuring the Blessed Couple with not a mention of the C word…’
Rock Bottom
‘I HAVE nothing to hide, says former Royal butler Paul Burrell, as he relaxes in a post-jungle bath with only a pint of Guinness and a Mirror photographer for company.
How her husband must be missing her |
Im just an ordinary, happy, jolly person who likes to keep the mood upbeat. If that is misinterpreted as being camp, then its a little silly.
But has the butler got something to hide? Joe Pasquale, the squeaky-voiced winner of Im A Celebrity, certainly thinks so over in the Sun.
I know secret of The Rocks bottom, he boasts on its front page, revealing that Burrell has a tattoo of a red dragon on his bum.
Of course, we only have Burrells word for the existence of said tattoo.
I asked for a look, Joe says, and he said No. I said, Dont you want me to check your arse for leeches and ticks? He refused to show it.
As any red-blooded heterosexual former Royal butler would.
But back to the Mirror where we learn that Burrell is keen to put his days as guardian of the Princesss dresses behind him.
I cant erase the magical memories of life with the princess, he says, but I feel I can move on and let go now.
I discovered the real me in the jungle, lost the butler and dealt with some demons. Viewers saw the real Paul Burrell.
Or at least as much of the real Paul Burrell as he was prepared to show us or Joe.
But while Joe adjusts to life as King Of The Jungle and Paul tries on his Prince Of The Jungle tiara, the Star catches up with the shows other contestants at the final party.
Theres Brian Harvey arriving with his girlfriend Emma B, Sophie Anderton with her boyfriend Mark Alexiou and Vic Reeves with his wife Nancy Sorrell.
And heres Natalie Appleton walking in alone. Thatll be alone. Without her husband. Whos a long way away.
Sniff, sniff! There, there, Natalie, dont you start crying again…’
Band On The Run
‘YOU would never have seen Paul Burrell in a blue anti-bullying wristband when he was at school.
”You wouldn’t hit a man wearing sunglasses indoors, would you?” |
Not because pink was more Pauls colour, but because with his buff physique and macho ways no bully would have dared to pick on the future former butler.
And he would have been right not to wear one, as the Mail reports that children wearing the bracelets have themselves become the target of bullies.
All of which will come as a surprise to no-one except Skools Minister Stephen Twigg.
Anorak was not alone in predicting just such an outcome – Julie Oakley, head of Bullywatch, said she warned Twigg that the wristbands would mark kids out as natural targets.
The wristbands are sought after in the same way as new trainers, she says, and if bullies can sell them on eBay, then its easy money for them too.
However, a spokesman for Radio One, which gave away 100,000 of the bands as part of Anti-Bullying Week a fortnight ago, said they had been very successful.
If reports that a small minority are abusing the campaign are correct, he says, then thats very disappointing but underlines the importance of tackling bullying whenever and wherever it occurs.
And that is why we at Anorak are today launching our own pioneering anti-bullying initiative – and urging kids to have a red dragon tattooed on their arse…’
Relocation, Relocation
‘IT is, one dealer told Anorak, the best news for the Manchester drugs trade in a generation Blue Peter is leaving its London home and heading north.
Let this never be repeated |
The show that introduced the world to the delights of double-sided sticky tape will be relocated by 2009 as part of a massive shake-up of the BBC.
The Mirror says the Corporation plans to axe 3,000 jobs in the next three years, move 2,000 more out of London and plough £320 million of savings back into better programming.
Match Of The Day and Grandstand will both go to Manchester, along with most of Radio Five Live.
The famous Blue Peter garden will no doubt be sold off to developers after 26 years as a vandals playground, and childrens channels CBBC and CBeebies will also quit the capital.
Announcing the move, Director General Mark Thompson also pledged a blitz on reality TV shows and makeover series.
We want to raise our sights, he said. Viewers hate it when they think we are being derivative.
And where better to start than by making a fascinating documentary about the whole shake-up at the BBC?
They could call it something original like Relocation, Relocation, Relocation…’
A Biscuit Case
‘THANKS to the various taped interviews Princess Diana gave to the BBC, Andrew Morton, her voice coach, her gardener, the man who ran the corner shop next to Kensington Palace etc., there is not much we dont know about the Queen Of Hearts.
A diet of Hob Nobs and Ginger Nuts |
We know how often she had sex with her husband (every three weeks), we know what the sex was like (odd) and we know all about the sex with her other men (often; many).
And today we discover yet more, namely that in 1985 she fell deeply in love with her bodyguard Barry Mannakee and dreamed of walking out on Prince Charles to be with him.
He was the greatest fellow I have ever had, she says of him (in a taped interview aired on NBC last night and reproduced in this mornings Mail).
I was always waiting around to see him. Um, I just, you know, wore my heart on my sleeve. I was only happy when he was around.
Unfortunately, Mr Mannakee died in a motorbike accident in 1987 before he could reveal Dianas closest secrets, specifically the identity of her favourite biscuit.
With both Diana and Mannakee gone, we need Paul Burrell to enlighten us.
But not only is he still detained in Australia (where last night he was beaten to the King Of The Jungle crown by Joe Pasquale) but as the soul of discretion we fancy he would rather go to bed with another man than reveal his former mistresss secrets.
So, we turn to the Express, where a team of psychologists have been giving their undivided attention to this most pressing of matters.
And they have narrowed it down to three biscuits – the Jammy Dodger (fruity by filling, fruity by nature), the Custard Cream (the life and soul of the party) or the milk-chocolate Digestive (easy-going popular type, happy to go with the flow).
But what about Hob Nobs? Or Ginger Nuts? Or just plain crackers?’
Chelsy Girl
‘IF Princess Diana was a fruitcake, then what of her two sons?
Chelsy’s buns? |
Well, Prince William would probably be a Black Forest Gateau stodgy with a lot of German in him. And Prince Harry would clearly be a Ginger Nut or a hash cookie.
And their respective women?
The Express runs the rule over Kate Middleton, the 21-year-old country girl who has won Williams heart, and 19-year-old Chelsy Davy, the blonde who has captured Harrys eye.
And it is of the opinion that the former is more Victoria Sponge the daughter of respectable, upper-middle class country stock.
And the latter is more Bakewell Tart with busty figure, blonde hair and skimpy outfits, it says, she looks like a Page Three girl.
Sadly, however, her arrival on the tabloid scene comes too late for this years Page 3 Idol competition.
The Sun this morning publishes the first 18 finalists dreaming of a life without bras.
Nicola T, winner of the inaugural 2002 competition, was working in a bank when fame came a-calling.
Then my dream came true and changed things for ever, she says. Being on Page 3 is a fantastic opportunity, but the whole thing is really nerve-wracking as it means so much.
Indeed, but with Harry by her side, we have no doubt that Chelsy, 19, of Cape Town, will cope…’
Keeping Up With The Joneses
‘WATCH out, Catherine Zeta Jones – Jennifer Ellison is after your job.
”I’m ready for my close up, Mr Douglas” |
So it says on the front of this mornings Star, although it does not specify which of Catherines many roles Jen aims to usurp.
Does she intend to become wife/companion to one of Hollywoods oldest residents, to bath them, to feed them and to nurse them in their dotage?
Or perhaps she sees a future as a celebrity litigant, suing anyone who dares to suggest that shes eaten a full meal in the past decade?
Jen is not specific.
Id love to follow in the footsteps of Catherine Zeta Jones and go to Hollywood, she tells the paper, but I love my family and that still means a lot to me.
And shes still got a lot to learn if she is to take on Catherines mantle.
For instance, the Mirror says the 21-year-old Scouser was only too happy to pose with co-star Emmy Rossum at last nights premiere of the film version of Phantom Of The Opera.
A true Hollywood diva like Catherine would have done as Minnie Driver did and thrown a real-life strop when asked to stand next to the 18-year-old unknown.
Perhaps she was fearful of being upstaged by such a young beauty, a film fan opined.
Or perhaps she was behaving as any self-respecting Hollywood diva would?’
Yorkshire Puddings
‘ITS official the biggest tits in Britain come from Bradford.
Twinned with Bradford |
Not only is the Yorkshire city home to Countdown host Richard Whiteley and the forgotten man of pop, Gareth Gates, but the average woman there boasts a 41-inch bust.
So says the Sun, which not only takes a professional interest in such matters but has seen the vital statistics of 37,000 women who have registered with diet website DailyDietTracker.
According to the data, Bradford women narrowly beat their counterparts in Leicester (40 inches) in the chest department, with Glasgow and Birmingham (39 inches) in equal third.
Edinburgh, by contrast, is the pancake capital with women there boasting measly 30-inch chests, even flatter than in York (31 inches), Leeds and Coventry (32 inches).
All of which will come as some surprise to the electors of the East Midlands, who thought that they possessed the biggest tit in Britain in the shape of their MEP Robert Kilroy-Silk.
The Mail this morning has a picture of what remains of a bucket of shit on its front page after it had been involved in a nasty altercation with the Arab-loving former talkshow host.
The incident happened as our orange friend was arriving at a school in Manchester for a recording of Radio 4s Any Questions.
Just as he climbed out of his car, he was attacked by a bearded man, who claimed Kilroy had insulted the religion of Islam.
This is all about trying to bully and intimidate people they disagree with, said the man who has spent his life trying to bully and intimidate people he disagrees with.
Trying to stifle people who have strong legitimate opinions and express them robustly as I do.
For what opinion could be stronger than Kilroys belief that all Arabs are ‘suicide bombers, limb amputators and women repressors’?
What opinion more robust than that Ireland is ‘a country peopled by peasants, priests and pixies’, that Pakistanis ‘want to generate hate’, that the French are ‘devious’, Germans ‘truculent’ and Spanish ‘not to be trusted’?
And what opinion more legitimate than Kilroy’s description of Muslims as ‘backward and evil’?’
BNP-ed Off
‘ROBERT Kilroy-Silk is the Oswald Moseley of his generation and his journey from the left to the right of the political spectrum will only be complete when he joins the British National Party.
‘Do you know Morrissey’s ‘Hang the DJ’?’ |
A group so inept that it cant even organise a whites-only Christmas party.
The Mirror says a number of members of the far right group stormed out of their own bash at a top London hotel after it hired a black DJ by mistake.
Everyone was a bit alarmed when he turned up with his lights and console, said BNP organiser Bob Garner. A lot of people werent happy. I wasnt. One or two walked out.
But so embarrassed by their bigoted beliefs were the ones who stayed that they didnt even dare admit to the DJ that they were members of the BNP.
Traditionally someone stands and says whats happened in the year or in the elections, Mr Garner explains, but it was a bit difficult to say we were even in the BNP.
We even had to be careful what we said when we did the raffle so we didnt offend this guy. What are you supposed to do? Tell him to clear off? It was very, very embarrassing.
Proving that in Britain social niceties always win out over even the most repugnant of political beliefs…’