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.
National (Socialist) Express
‘EVER since Richard Desmond took over ownership of ‘The World’s Greatest Newspaper’ (aka The Express, naturally), Germany has never had it so good.
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| ‘Don’t litter’ |
Rather than being a country with a faltering economy, a rubbish football team and a political leader with alarmingly black hair, the land over there appears from the Express’s office block as a seething mass of unfulfilled Nazi ambition.
And today’s front-page news that has got Desmond goosestepping round his eagle’s nest is that the Germans want the Queen to say sorry for the war.
This is indeed despicable. It can’t have been easy for Her Majesty to have gone against the land of her forefathers in the second great British-German shoot-out, but go against the grain she did.
But reading on we learn that the Germans don’t want Liz to apologise for picking the other side, but rather to say sorry for British saturation bombing that accounted for thousands of German lives and set towns like Dresden ablaze.
So, on her next trip to Germany, when she would normally be expected to catch up with a few of dad’s old pals and distant cousins, Liz will be expected to express ‘some form’ of limited regret for the Allied campaign.
Predictably, although Buckingham Palace denies receiving any formal request from Germany for an apology, the Express is none too pleased – and says so in its editorial, ‘No saying sorry in our fight to defeat Hitler’.
And the Express will not stop fighting until evil Adolf is beaten once and for all…’
A Right Pair
‘IS there nothing Richard Madeley and Judy Finnigan won’t do in the shameless pursuit of ratings for their TV shows?
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| ‘Put your tits away for the lads…’ |
Few can forget the moment when Judy resorted to the basest sexual provocation when she became the supposed victim of a wardrobe malfunction at the 2000 National Television Awards.
Given the ensuing revelations about the depraved private life of John Leslie – who once, like Richard & Judy, presented TV’s This Morning – how much of a coincidence was it that of all people it was the too-tall Scot who should have bolted onto the stage and rearranged Judy’s top?
Looking on at that mess was like popping round to your aged aunt and uncle’s for a cuppa and finding them hosting a swingers’ party.
And now more sad revelations about the pair whose career has brought them up against so many great and good stars.
The Mirror says that Matthew Wright, presenter of Channel Five’s The Wright Stuff magazine show, has accused Richard & Judy of stooping to ‘dirty tricks’.
Wright claims that newsreader Jon Snow was told in no uncertain terms that, if he appeared to plug his new book on The Wright Stuff, he would be booted off Richard & Judy.
‘Tom Cruise I can understand,’ says Wright. ‘Joan Collins perhaps, but Jon Snow on a Monday morning seems a little heavy-handed. They must be desperate to worry about little old me.’
The Sun says things went further, and that Richard & Judy’s producers threatened to ban all authors from Snow’s HarperCollins publishing house if he appeared with Wright.
Coming as this does in the same week that Paul O’Grady accused the couple of ‘rustling’ guests from his own daytime chat show, it looks very much as if Richard & Judy are not afraid to take the gloves off when the going gets tough.
And judging by Judy’s past exploits, she’ll then stick on some shackles and beg to be whipped by her rubber-clad husband.’
Belmarsh Arab
‘WE are loath of plant ideas in the heads of impressionable lunatics, but why have none of the kidnappers operating out of Iraq demanded that Abu Hamza be freed?
| ”That’ll teach me for trying to get that bit of dust out of my eye” |
The one-eyed, hook-handed, bearded cleric has been routinely ignored by the misfits, loons and ardent sadists at large in Saddam Hussein’s old domain.
Perhaps they don’t think the mullah of Finsbury Park is worth the effort? Perhaps they just don’t like him? Perhaps they, like the Sun, have realised that the best way to make the Western kaffirs suffer is to keep him in this country.
So, here he is, staying at a top-security prison, Belmarsh in sunny south London.
And yesterday he appeared at Belmarsh Magistrates Court, flanked by any number of armed security guards and protected from assassination by way of a bullet-proof screen.
Hamza, the Express reports, stood accused of ten counts of soliciting to murder.
After a short adjournment, he failed to return to the dock for over an hour, after complaining of feeling unwell. The trial of Abu Hamza is expected to be long and costly.
And then there’s his new hook. You can’t miss it – it’s on the end of his old arm.
And is it not shiny? Is it not radiant? See how it glints in the light as Hamza laughs in the face of danger, casually flicking a piece of tinned sweetcorn from his beard.
And it should be a good-looking device because, as the Sun says on its front page, it cost the taxpayer £5,000.
At one stage, the paper says, Hamza was to have both his hooks replaced with prosthetic hands on the NHS at a cost of £30,000.
Why this option was not fulfilled it not made clear.
But it could be one he regrets not taking should he be extradited to the US and so made to pass through those tricky security checks – and metal detectors…’
Jesus Fish
‘IF you could ban one thing from Christmas, what would it be?
| The parable of the fat tongue |
Santa? Brussels sprouts? Cliff Richard? What about religion?
According to the Expresss front page (CHRISTMAS BANNED IN RELIGIOUS EDUCATION), a video promoting religious festivals has failed to mention Christmas or, for that matter, Easter.
Looking at the 55-minute teaching video called Childs Eye View of Festivals is to enter into a world where Jesus Christ never existed, let alone was born, died and rose again, as legend has it.
The privately-made film, produced by Katy Jones, a Bafta award-winning TV producer, and Linda Mort, a nursery teacher, is to be distributed to primary schools.
But not everyone is happy, and the Express solicits willing representatives of the holy triumvirate that is the Church of England, the Conservative Party and the Catholic Communication to say how appalled, upset and outraged they are.
But they are about to be further antagonised by the Mirrors news that Jamie Oliver will be plugging the space vacated by Jesus Christ.
Jamie will not be turning Sainsburys own brand water into organic wine, now will he be feeding 5,000 hungry shoppers on ciabatta and soused herring with goose fat and herb dip, but he will do doing something far worse.
Oliver will be spending the season of goodwill now officially known as Jamie Time extolling the vitues of…smoked salmon.
And, once more, few are happy.
Christmas is about turkey, stuffing and selling lots of wine and beer so why are they [Sainsburys] spending millions on salmon? says an unnamed industry insider.
And so it is. But any youngster looking in and thinking thats all the season of goodwill to all men is should read on. Christmas is about so much more than salmon.
Its about spending time indoors with family and realising why you dont see your relatives more often, freeing a puppy on the hard shoulder of the M11 and praying for some decent presents.’
Wolfgangsta Rap
‘FEW who saw the film Amadaus, the biopic of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, can forget the car chase.
| ”Will the real Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart please stand up…” |
The film was full of such magic moments.
Like when a young Mozart finds his ho in bed with another man. Yo! You muthafucka, says he. That be my bitchin-ho.
Setting the ensuing burst of sub-automatic gunfire to music was a stroke of his rare genius.
This was cinema at its very best.
But for those who didnt see the movie, the Suns news that Mozart was a foul-mouthed yob who made rapper Eminem look tame is some news.
But its the truth its written large in the Sun in black and white beneath the headline EMINEMADEUS, so it must be.
It seems the Austrian composer of violin concerti and symphonies also wrote a lesser known ditty called L*** Out My A*******.
In the song, penned when the composer was a vigorous 26, the lyrics go: L*** out my a*******, L*** it till its good and clean.
But although it is brilliant stuff, dont expect it to be released anytime soon. It may be too fruity for our relatively sanitised modern tastes…’
Not-So-Hot Rod
‘IS Angelina Jolie talking to Penny Lancaster when she tells the Sun: ‘The British – they might be repressed, but they’re the ones that are good in bed’?
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| ‘Nope, not a twitch!’ |
Before we go on, we must say that there is no hint of truth in the rumour that the actress has formed her opinion of British men after a date with Penny’s flickering flame Rod Stewart.
The aging rocker is more into M&S than he is the S&M sex for which the Hollywood star professes a love.
No, we ask because Jolie may be trying to tell the photogenic photographer that she should hang on in there.
Rod may take longer to warm up in the sack than a penguin’s ice lolly, but the wait is worth it.
And Rod agrees. The Mail hears him in conversation with the Radio Times and asks via its headline: ‘Has Rod finally kissed his sexy image goodbye?’
‘As the years go by we don’t get it up as often as we used to,’ says Rod with typical candour. ‘It’s quality now, not quantity.’
Never mind the length, feel the soft leathery texture, indeed.
But this is Rod Stewart, the man who asked us if we thought he was sexy and got an endless number of leggy blonde women to scream back: ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’
These days he says ‘kissing is very important’ and that he often turns down requests for sex.
‘Foreplay is so important,’ says he. And, of course he’s right.
A hearty breakfast, a handily-placed nurse and a handful of little blue pills – and he and Penny should be just fine.’
Sore Loser
‘IF Ula Heywood is looking for a job, she could do worse than apply to the Mail.
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| ‘These boots are made for suing…’ |
We say this because Miss Heywood is blessed with that rare ability of being able to give the Mail and its readers just what they want.
In times of slow news, Ula delivers.
Her story, which also appears in the Express, tells of how four years back, when aged just 18, she decided it was time to try to earn a Duke of Edinburgh award.
Her plan was to bypass the easier bronze and silver awards and go straight for gold. And that meant a 50-mile yomp over the Lake District.
But during the walk her feet began to hurt. Her back began to ache. She grew tired. Hey, she may even have sweated a little.
So she took the expedition’s supervisor to court, claiming that it was his fault she experienced some discomfort. He should never have allowed her to continue in her mission.
As the Express listened on intently, Heywood told the judge at Newcastle County Court: ‘I knew from the beginning that I could stop but it wasn’t made clear at all times…
‘The safety and well-being of the group is the leader’s responsibility and I made it very clear how sore my feet were.’
But her plea failed to impress Judge Peter Bullock who threw out her case, saying how the litigant simply bit off more than she could chew.
After the verdict, Heywood’s solicitor, Melanie Shooter, was beaten but not bowed.
As she tells the Mail: ‘My client will now be trying to put this whole distressing event behind her.’
Not so fast – if Ula truly wants that job as head of compensation culture news at the Mail, she should immediately appeal to the European Court of Human Rights.
And win.’
Chavs And Chav Nots
‘THE word on the street is not ‘cocaine’, nor is it ‘crack’, ‘smack’, ‘whizz’ or ‘trips’.
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| The Queen of Chavs |
According to the Mirror, which has seen the new Oxford University Press book, Larpers and Shroomers: The Language Report, the word on the street is ‘chav’.
For those of you not in the know, who try to avoid things that buzz lest they get stung, the paper explains its meaning.
Chav, dear reader, refers to someone who wears ‘prison white trainers’, branded sportswear, and is prone to appearing on ITV’s confessional show for the mentally challenged, Trisha.
The Mail says it’s the word used to describe the ‘ill-mannered underclass’, whose King and Queen are Liam Gallagher and Danniella Westbrook.
It’s an interesting word, based, according to the paper, on the mid-19th century Romany ‘Chavi’, meaning child – although, the Express says it’s thought to come from Chatham, Kent, where council estate chic was first identified as a fad.
Lesson over, we appreciate its buzzword status but wonder who says it’s the official buzzword of 2004?
And for its elevated status we have to thank the book’s author, Ms Susie Dent, who can be often seen on TV’s Countdown, seated in the show’s Dictionary Corner.
She says chav’s a horrible word and the pick of a raft of buzzwords to have emerged recently.
Other are shroomer (someone who takes magic mushroom) and Larpers (a Live Action Role Playing).
Or hippies and nerds, as those not yet up with fashion still call them…’
A Few Bad Eggs
”I THINK it’s a shame this has to happen,’ says a spokesperson for the British Egg Information Service. ‘There are so many better uses for eggs than throwing them at people.’
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| ‘Please do not feed the animals’ |
Sadly the voice of the all-powerful BEIS does not go on to elaborate what these alternatives are.
The Express could chip in with some advice, but it too fails to seek out even Jamie Oliver and find out what else you can do with an egg besides lobbing one at someone’s head.
It’s little wonder, then, that the nation’s youth are buying eggs by the dozen (and half dozen) to use as weapons.
As a result, Asda has placed its staff on ‘Egg Watch’, ordering checkout girls and security guards to be, as a spokesman for the supermarket chain puts it, ‘extra vigilant’.
‘We want to make sure our stores are aware that these kids are around,’ he says. ‘It’s just a bit of common sense – if we see eight in school uniforms with a trolley full of eggs, we’re not going to sell the eggs to them.’
No? ‘But if a youngster is buying half a dozen eggs with a loaf of bread and some bacon we’re not going to stop them.’
Going equipped with a wagon load of eggs sounds like a recipe for trouble – eggs, bacon and bread sounds likes a recipe for breakfast.
But we see in the Sun that this news has come too late to save Brian McPadding, who, while filming a video for his new song, was pelted with eggs by a gang of ‘cheeky kids’.
While chanting ‘Where’s you’re wife? Where’s your wife?’ over and over, the rascals tossed eggs at the newly single singing sensation.
But the gang stopped short of launching their bacon and bread at him, preferring to keep those for some other dastardly act of trickery.
Like turning them into sandwiches and reminding Brian of his porcine past…’
A Black Mark
‘WHEN British public schools make front-page news in the Mirror, we expect to read stories of spanking headmasters, macabre sexual rituals and Tony Blair.
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| ‘Where do you think you’ll be in 30 years’ time?’ |
But, although we are disappointed, today’s news is every bit as delightful as the paper tells of the ‘VILE RACIST SHAME OF TOFF SCHOOL’.
The institution is Winchester College, and the shocker can be found in the unofficial annual, in which students in their final year pay £8 each to appear.
For their money, the students get their photo included in the publication and their answers to questions like ‘Quotes’, ‘Crowning moment’ and ‘Where in 30 years time’.
But some of the answers in this year’s book have been a little too blunt for some tastes.
A black student is quoted as saying ‘I am smelly’. His crowning moment is ‘Getting off his rape charge filed by his sister. Twice.’
A Nigerian boy’s future would see him end up ‘shackled to a pick-up truck being dragged through the streets/bus driver.’
Under ‘Most likely to say’, an Asian student is quoted: ‘F****** W****** those P****s.’
To more educated elements familiar with life at public schools, this is all hilarious high jinks, part of the rich tapestry of life in a dormitory.
Many will applaud the lads who not only created this book and the witty ripostes within, but had the vigour and strength of spirit to publish it.
Famous old boys like Tim Brooke-Taylor have every right to be green with envy at how much funnier the class of 2004 are than when they were lads at Winchester and the best they could muster was the piss-poor Goodies.
But whether out of jealously, misunderstanding or something else, the wags behind the book have been suspended and all but one of the copies pulped.
This sole remaining copy will now be placed in an hermetically sealed container and talked about in hushed whispers for generations to come.’
Marmalade Cat
‘DID you know that you can tell if a baby is going to be famous or not by observing the colour of their skin?
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| The colour of fame |
It’s true. If the little darling’s white, brown, pink or black, they will never succeed.
We know this because the Mail shows us that when it comes to making it big in the celebrity set, the preferred skin colour is orange.
And thanks to a poll conducted by Terry’s Chocolate Orange, we know that the orangiest celebrity of them all is…Cat Deeley.
She is the veritable ‘Marmalade Cat’, who tops the Orange Parade, pipping day-glo Dale Winton to the title of most orange-hued celebrity.
How proud – and orange – she must be to beat such leading neon lights as ‘tangerine-featured’ David Dickinson, orange-peel-faced Jessie Wallace and even the atomic Satsuma that is Judith Chalmers.
But looking down the Top Ten, although we see the likes of Nancy Dell’Olio, Jodie Marsh, Jordan, Terry Venables and, adding an international flavour to the display, Christina Aguilera, there is someone missing.
Where is Robert Kilroy-Silk? How can anyone have missed the glow-in-the-darkie orange man?
Happily, he has not been overlooked, and we learn that Deeley’s prize is to be mated with the great politico and so formulate the next generation of celebrities.
And they will be more talented, more charismatic and more orange than what has ever been seen before…’
Pauline Falls For Sarah
‘AFTER a prolonged period of decline, I predict that EastEnders viewing figures will shoot through the roof next week as Stalker Sarah pushes Pauline down some stairs and leaves her for dead.
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| ‘Have you seen Sonia?!’ |
Who hasnt wanted to do the same after 18 years of listening to the cardigan-wearing harridan moaning on and on?
For a loony, you have to admire Sarahs tenacity and intelligence in tracking down her prey. Shes now moved in with Pauline, Sonia and Martin after convincing them that her flat had flooded. Shes even gettin post delivered now, moaned Martin to his kind-hearted wife.
Martin went to the police to try and lodge a complaint. I ad sex wif a bird and now she keeps trying to make me sleep wif her again, he babbled to a pair of amused policemen who promptly sent him on his way.
Sarahs getting impatient with Martins promises to tell Sonia all about them and this week she decided to pre-empt him and tell Pauline.
Im having an affair with your son, she proudly announced to her. Rubbish! scoffed Pauline. Hed never touch you in a million years. Says the woman with Sonia for a daughter-in-law.
Christmas has well and truly come early for Walford-watchers this year as, if the tabloids are to be believed, the entire Ferreira clan is set to leave the Square by Christmas.
No-ones ever explained the point of the Ferreiras other than to reinforce stereotypes (producers have them now running a run-down mini cab firm).
And speaking of stereotypes, someones had the bright idea of turning one of the only three black characters into a drugs runner.
Paul is now working for Andy, organising his dodgy drugs deals much to the disapproval of wife Sam. When Paul let slip to Sam what the nature of his work for Andy entailed, Sam demanded that her husband of less than a month stop or it was all over.
Shes stitched you right up, laughed one of Andys cronies. She could get half of everything you own after only a month.
Andys decided to pretend to the ultimate dumb blonde that hes mended his ways while biding his time to decide on how to escape with all his assets intact – so quite similar to Martin Fowlers dilemma then, eh?’
In The Frame
‘THE papers all splash on Prince Harry (previously a practice permitted only to his inner circle).
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| Prince Harry’s A-level coursework |
The Prince is accused of ‘cheating’ (note careful quotation marks) in his Art A-Level – that is to say, a former student teacher says she helped him complete course work.
The Prince is also heard on tape admitting that he only did a ‘tiny, tiny bit’ of the written part.
The Star points out that this exam was one of the two A-Levels that Harry required to get into Sandhurst military college. ‘Now he faces boot from the Army,’ it announces.
It’s a long time since any of us here at Anorak were in the armed forces, but we don’t believe things have changed that much since our day.
Back then, a member of the Royal Family was a figurehead, and not expected to actually do very much, other than appear in public covered in medals.
There is surely a recent precedent. Like Harry, Prince Andrew took on an exercise – in his case, the Falklands War.
Like Harry, he did a little bit (flew out to a naval base miles away from the action) and got someone else to finish the job (i.e. fight the battle).
It didn’t hurt his military career, and we don’t see why it should have any negative consequences for his nephew either.
Now let’s hear no more of this nonsense.’
Up The Blues!
”TRUE BLUES UTD’ says the Star, above pictures of footballers Steve McManaman and Michael Owen.
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| Minister for Gaming |
The paper believes that the Conservative Party is targeting the two of them as ‘the first signings’ in ‘an entire team of right-wingers’.
Outsiders might question the wisdom of picking two men who left this country to jump on the European gravy train – something the Tory faithful appear to regard as only marginally less treacherous than joining a jihad.
That other gravy-train jumper, David Beckham, has apparently been ‘rejected’ for not having the right image – something which would probably be giving him sleepless nights, if he wasn’t already having them thanks to another thousand or so more serious worries at the moment.
Funnily enough, the fourth Real Madrid gringo, Jonathan Woodgate, doesn’t figure in the Tories’ plans either. Perhaps his image is deemed unsuitable too.
Anyway, the paper reports that the drive to recruit footballers follows the Tories’ ‘success in getting the backing of top boy band Busted’.
In the bad old days of Back To Basics, when Tory ministers behaved like Wayne Rooney at a pensioners’ tea party, footballers would have seemed an obvious choice to do some celebrity cheerleading.
Now, the Tories want something more sedate. ‘Michael Owen would be perfect,’ says a party insider. ‘He’s a nice, clean-living family boy.’
And just the person to lead the Tory campaign against Labour’s new plans to turn Britain into the gambling capital of Europe.
Onwards and upwards!’
Taking It On The Chin
‘MANY stories catch the eye – such as the one about the woman with a sleep disorder that makes her get out of bed, leave the house and have sex with strangers.
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| No relation to Henman Hill |
But forgive us if we neglect such lurid tales in order to set the record straight on a more important matter: Jimmy Hill.
Those two words form the sober title of a small item in the Sun, in which the paper refers to an earlier story alleging that the generously-chinned pundit ‘had ‘thundered’ and ‘had an outburst’ when asked to produce his membership card to get into Wimbledon tennis [sic]’.
The paper says that Jimmy has pointed out that he did not raise his voice and remained polite when asked to show his card, which he was quite willing to do.
Any allegations that the matrons of Henman Hill burst into a chorus of ‘Jimmy Hill is a wanker’ are similarly unfounded.’
Spotted Dick
”SCHOOL computers censored a kids’ panto – because it’s called DICK Whittington,’ sniggers the Star.
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| The greatest Dick of all |
Actually it’s called ‘Dick Whittington’ not ‘DICK Whittington’, but the capital letters are there to alert busy readers to the key word.
The paper reports that panto bosses emailed primary schools to ask if they wanted the play performed in assemblies, but the emails were deleted by a computer censor designed to screen out smut.
The word that caused the trouble was of course ‘Dick’ – and it’s sad to think that even an innocent name like that can be interpreted in such a cynical way.
And then there’s another factor to consider. In this context, ‘Dick’ has other connotations, which may be every bit as disturbing.
The paper reminds us that Dick is the first word of a panto ‘in which stars like Jim Davidson have delighted generations of youngsters’.
Although we are usually opposed to censorship, there are limits. On this occasion, there seems to be no case to answer.’
Walford Woes
‘MISERY spreads in Walford like a cancerous growth, infecting everyone and is usually terminal.
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| ‘I miss Butlin’s’ |
Now perennially cheery chirpy cockney, Alfie Moon has finally succumbed he managed to hold out longer than most but even hes only human.
Since moving into The Square, hes been beaten up, robbed, forced to endure marriage to Kat Slater and discover that shed slept with his arch enemy. And hes a West Ham fan theres not much lower the poor man could sink.
Alfie finally broke down behind the bar of a packed Vic when the questions about Kats mysterious disappearance got too much.
Why dont you all just leave me alone? he ranted. Havent you got better things to do than poke your noses into other peoples business? Sadly not Alfie.
Kat has decided to go away to for a bit to sort me ed out after Alfie struggled to get over the fact that she slept with another man for money. How old-fashioned of him, eh?
Minty is languishing in a hospital bed after receiving a vicious beating from Andys thugs after telling Sam not to sell the Vic. Andy was counting on the money to fund a new business venture after boasting to a mate how hed married a cash machine.
Minty overheard and decided to take matter into his own hands, calling in Phils lawyer Marcus. Marcus persuaded Sam to sign a document that gave Minty control of Phils assets, much to Andys annoyance.
He decided to teach Minty a lesson and hired some thugs to beat him up. If you wanna live, hissed Andy into Mintys ear, youll leave well alone. Sam being the original dumb blonde refuses to believe that her husband had anything to do with it.
Charlie is also suffering from self-delusion. All me girls have gone away, he moaned to Alfie, failing to notice that three of his daughters were waddling around six months pregnant just before they disappeared.
The unscheduled pregnancies of three of the Slater girls has been given as a reason why the soaps gone drastically downhill recently, but thats a poor excuse. The lack of any decent storylines, humour and characters is more of an issue.
Last week we were introduced to a new character Janes husband David, who of course happens to have a terminal illness. Thats why we can never be together, Jane told a shocked Ian. He may linger on for years with no quality of life or hope.
So he should feel right at home in Walford then.’
Shady Character
‘ANOTHER day, another ban for bad boy rapper Eminem.
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| ‘Oooh! It doesn’t matter if you’re black or white’ |
The Express reports that the blackest white man in showbiz has run into trouble over his portrayal of the whitest black man, Michael Jackson.
The foul-mouthed wordsmith has had his latest video pulled by the Black Entertainment channel in America because Jacko complained that it was ‘outrageous and disrespectful’.
The film shows Eminem, dressed as Jackson, on a bed with young boys. At one point his nose falls off.
All very unpleasant for Mr Jackson, to be sure, but the complaint goes beyond mere hurt feelings.
‘I am very angry at Eminem’s depiction of me,’ he wails. ‘The video was inappropriate and disrespectful to me, my children, my family and the community.’
Well, up to a point. We just about buy the stuff about Michael and his family, but what exactly is ‘the community’ to which he refers?
Presumably the one at Neverland containing Mickey, Goofy and Jacko’s other anthropomorphic cartoon pals.
Somehow we feel that even a company as society-minded as Disney would want to put a bit of distance between itself and that particular ‘community’.
We await further developments with interest.’
Wigan Smear
‘KEEP Britain Tidy. It’s a lovely little phrase, isn’t it?
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| The mint ball industry had changed little in 100 years |
For us here at Anorak Towers it brings back memories of a more innocent time, when concerned citizens issued firm reprimands to young boys in shorts who dropped lolly sticks in the streets, and made them deposit their litter in one of the wide range of receptacles provided by the local council – who had plenty of money for such things in the days before they spent their entire budgets on drugs advice and community outreach workers.
But we digress. Today, the Daily Mail brings news of the Keep Britain Tidy charity which, contrary to the evidence of the nation’s streets, is still going strong.
Now the charity has hit the headlines for all the wrong reasons, as its assistant chief executive Sue Nelson has been suspended for making rude remarks about Wigan.
Wigan is where the Keep Britain Tidy HQ is based, and Mrs Nelson made a somewhat unfortunate remark to the effect that the town was ‘the arse end of the world’.
Harsh, but fair, some might argue. The problem was that the remark was made at a national conference – cue predictable outrage from Wiganites.
‘She obviously doesn’t know Wigan as well as she thinks she does because the town is anything but the arse end of the world,’ says the Mayor of Wigan.
‘Wigan is a very upmarket town surrounded by some of the most beautiful countryside in Britain.’
EnCams, the umbrella group which runs Keep Britain Tidy, said ‘it would be sad if it fed the prejudices of people who have never been here’.
As for those who have – presumably they are already lost to the cause.
Without wishing to increase the level of prejudice, we should mention that the Mail lists some of Wigan’s contributions to the gaiety of the nation.
‘Although the pits are long gone, industry still figures strongly in the Wigan economy thanks to the Heinz factory, JJB sports manufacturer and sweet makers William Santus & Co, producers of Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls.’
Say no more…’
Red Rom: The Musical
‘IF they ever hold an awards ceremony for the worst tabloid headlines, catch-phrases, nicknames and so on, they will surely strike a special medal for the hack who came up with Red Rom.
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| ‘Roman, Roman, Roman…’ |
Sure, he’s called Roman, which could, at a pinch, be shortened to ‘Rom’.
But for the sake of a feeble pun on Red Rum, we then have to overlook the fact that he is about as un-red as possible, being both a ruthless capitalist and the owner of a football club that is practically synonymous with the colour blue.
Yet the name stuck, and now it is about to be immortalised in another unlikely form.
‘RED ROM: THE MUSICAL’ announces the Sun, which reveals that Billy Gaff has read the new book Abramovich: The Billionaire From Nowhere and intends to put the great man’s life onto the stage.
Despite his name, Gaff is anything but gaffe-prone when it comes to such things – he is described by the paper as a ‘top showbiz producer’, and he hopes to get Elton John on board to write the songs.
If we were him, we’d wait and see how the story ends before rushing into things.
A grand finale with newspaper speculation, accusations of financial irregularities and a shock semi-final dismissal from the Champions’ League might not be quite the ticket.
On second thoughts, it might – after all, isn’t one golden rule of showbiz to send ’em home with a smile on their face?’
A Question Of Taste
‘BURGER giant McDonald’s is to change its logo – the famous Golden Arches will soon be no more.
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| ‘Nice man breasts!’ |
It’s all part of a makeover that, according to the Daily Mail, will re-brand the company as a provider of healthy foods for figure-conscious people.
Admittedly, the old logo did resemble a pair of ‘man breasts’ of the type sported by many burger-munching customers.
Perhaps it was indeed time for a change. The question is: what does one put in its place?
It turns out that McDonald’s have opted for the old politicians’ trick of answering a question with another question.
The new logo consists of a selection of ‘healthy’ foods – salad, fruit, eggs and, er, bagels – with a large golden question mark.
Which will probably be the reaction of the average customer, as he ploughs through piles of chopped lettuce in an increasingly desperate search for the usual reward of a shrivelled grey ‘pattie’ smeared in fluorescent cheese.’
A Lot Of Bling
”LADIES and gentlemen, our next lot is an unusual and interesting one.
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| A mystery bidder |
‘It consists of a collection of idiosyncratic jewellery from the collection of a man who until recently was one of the country’s leading narcotics traders…’
Yes, it’s true. The Star reports that the accumulated bling seized from a convicted drug dealer will go under the hammer at a Bristol auction house tomorrow.
Items include a 28-inch engraved chain with a jewel-encrusted cross and a 15oz bracelet.
Most prized of all is a set of gold rings weighing 4lb and spelling the word ‘FLEX’. Or FELX, if you prefer. Or XELF.
‘They’re quite in-your-face,’ says sale co-ordinator Sam Chappell, who points out, in an apparently unconnected fashion, that ‘they’d make a nice set of knuckle-dusters’.
Mmm. Nice.’
A Cut Above
‘IF there was one thing you’d think today’s schoolkids would be able to do, it’s use a knife.
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| WRONG! The knife should enter the skull through the right temple |
While not trying to knock each other out in a game of Xtreme Conkers or knock each other up in a game of Hide The Sausage, teenagers like to spend time practising their bladesmanship.
But while your average 13-year-old may be able to kill, gut and fillet a classmate in less than two minutes, he’s not so adept when it comes to mealtimes.
In fact, says the Mirror, schools claim that they are having to take on extra staff to teach children how to use a knife and fork.
Many kids eat only with their fingers and do not even have the most basic table manners.
Anne Mackay, headteacher of one primary school, says it is the fault of lazy parents – and too many TV dinners.
‘Parents like convenience food and finger snacks because it is easy for them…and easy for children to eat,’ she says.
Parenting expert Dr Pat Spungin says this experience coincides with the results of a poll he conducted, which revealed that only one in five youngsters sits down to eat with their family once a week or more.
‘Children spend more time alone with their TVs, computers and music systems and less time in family activities,’ he says. ‘Eating together is often the only opportunity to have family time.’
And Tricia Bateley, head of another primary school, tells the paper that the onus of teaching children table manners is increasingly falling on schools.
‘If we teach children the basics of etiquette and using cutlery as part of good manners,’ she says, ‘they at least have that as a baseline to make personal decisions later in life.’
Like knowing which hand to hold a steak knife in as you plunge it into your neighbour’s stomach…’
Dannielle Gets Stick
‘YESTERDAY, we learned that Dannielle Heath, the woman who claims to have bedded David Beckham, was a ‘ruthless man-eater’ who was out to blackmail the England captain.
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| Tan Dan’s looking a bit wan |
This morning, it gets worse for the 22-year-old ‘tanning expert’ – she is a ‘raging nymphomaniac who uses sex to get what she wants’.
And the Sun has the pictures and text messages to prove it, courtesy of former boyfriend Danny Chandler, who claims she cheated him out of £8,000.
‘Danny said he was lured by Dannielle’s amazing appetite for sex and kinky romps,’ the paper explains.
‘He said she bragged of threesomes, liked being tied up, asked to be woken daily by an unnatural sex act, and loved to romp in his sports car – even cavorting with his GEARSTICK.’
If that is not shocking enough, she used to bombard him with filthy text messages even after they had split up.
One says: ‘Ok dan just wanted u 2 **** me ****! 4 ages and ** *** **** and wat u want.’
We are simple souls here at Anorak Towers – we may be able to solve the Times crossword in under five minutes but, try as we might, we are unable to decipher the above message.
Luckily, however, we know a man who can and so we have forwarded it to our expert in Madrid.
We’ll have the answer for you tomorrow – as long as his wife doesn’t get hold of the message first.’
Someone’s Got To Do It
‘WE can think of plenty of jobs that didn’t make it into a new book called I Quit! The 50 Worst Jobs In Britain, which is published later this month.
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| Lucy revising for her Sun & Sunbathing degree |
Who, for instance, would want to become Pink Rod, as The Holder of the Royal Sceptre is popularly known – the man whose job it is to hold Prince Charles’s member when he goes for a pee?
Who wouldn’t swap the job as Vanessa Feltz’s private masseur for, well, standing up in the middle of Oxford Street holding up that Golf Sale sign?
And who, apart from Rebecca Loos, would be happy spending their days pulling off pigs?
But this morning’s Star thinks it’s discovered the best job in the world – Lucy Pinder’s.
‘We picture her today rubbing sun oil into Sophie Howard,’ it says. ‘Any takers?’
While you all form an orderly queue to administer UV protection to the 21-year-old Southport sexpot, we must remind you that this is a job that requires a high degree of skill.
The Star pictures ‘luscious’ Lucy in action on the beach in St Tropez, as she ‘expertly’ rubs the cream into Sophie’s back.
We knew that GCSE in Tanning Studies wouldn’t go to waste ’
