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.
Jaded
‘ROOOOOOOOOOOOOONEEEEEEEEY! ROOOOOOO
Oh, hang on a minute, he wasnt playing for England, was he? Right then, lets move swiftly on
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| ‘How d’yer spell East Angular?’ |
Toure avin a write larff! says the Sun, above a picture of the newly brunette Miss Jade Goody.
It transpires that Goody is to pen with the help of ghostwriters her autobiography, at the ripe old age of 23.
The paper has predictable fun with this, offering its own version, written in hilarious phonetic cockney. It boils down to: born in Bermondsey, went on Big Brother, had a kid, then had another.
No mention of the two solid years of coverage in the Sun, and the millions of pounds secured along the way.
And when it is published, there will of course be no mention in the papers news pages let alone an exclusive serialisation deal.
Then again, stranger things have happened ’
Wasted
‘ITS day three of STAN: MY STORY in the Mirror. Or is it day two? After a while the days seem to blur into one another.
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| ‘Your carpark or mine?’ |
Anyway, Stan Collymore has checked into the Priory, and although he is there for depression, he has managed to have sex with two patients.
He acknowledges this is wrong, and holds his hands up like a good footballer.
The girls reckon he is a sex addict, but he disagrees. There was another bird who wanted to shag me, he admits, adding casually: She told me I looked like her son.
Id been in a mental hospital for two and a half weeks, constructing and deconstructing myself in smoke-filled rooms, pouring out my feelings, listening to harrowing stories, Stan explains.
But suddenly hes back in the real world at Aston Villa Football Club.
Where the f*** have you been? asks Gareth Southgate or nice, friendly, gentlemanly Gareth as Stan ironically refers to him.
There was no support forthcoming from Southgate or even Paul addicted to everything Merson, who didnt even manage a bit of empathy.
They regarded Stan as a waste of time something the Mirror certainly cant be accused of, with two double-page spreads and a column devoted to the most explosive book of the year.
Or at least, the most explosive book until the thoughts of Jade peeps excitingly out of our Christmas stockings.’
Dog-Tired
‘AH, now for some real news.
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| If the wind changes, her face will stay like that |
POSH: She spends 30 minutes a day practising her trout pout, announces the Daily Star.
This, apparently, is one of the bombshells to be dropped in an explosive documentary that is set to lift the lid on the ex-Spice Girls secrets.
She used to practise her posh pout in the mirror, her former room-mate reveals. (Thats the shiny glass type of mirror, by the way, not the esteemed daily newspaper of the same name.)
This may be the most famous pout in the world, but it did not come without a lot of practice, she continues, somewhat repetitively.
She does not explain what is posh about the pout, or even what is desirable about it, but presumably readers of the paper that supports our builders (as it used to bill itself) will already know all that stuff.
Star reporter Marianna Partasides adds that Victoria perfected every angle of the luscious lip move until she was completely satisfied… Then she would start all over again the next night.
And if youre still none the wiser about all this, then join the club. All will be revealed on Channel Five on 10 October.
Perhaps then we will learn the answer to the real mystery: what exercise did she do to make her nose go that funny shape?’
The Abi Habit
‘WE are used to footballers issuing come and get me pleas to prospective employers via the back pages of the tabloids, but it is unusual to find this sort of thing on the news pages.
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| Carry on, nurse |
As ever, however, Abi Titmus is a pioneer in this regard. And of course, her plea is not business but pleasure.
Where once a well-brought-up gal would have conducted her life via the social pages of the Tatler and The Times, today, they are just as likely to use the good offices of the Sun.
Todays paper informs us that Abi has finished with her latest man, Little Britain star David Willliams, and is now hoping to hook up with Robbie Williams.
Abi: Im ready for you, Robbie, announces the headline, for all the world as though Titmus were still a nurse, ushering a procession of men into her treatment area.
But this is an altogether grander situation, and the paper has entered into the spirit by printing a stiffy (thats a formal invitation, for the benefit of any casual browsers from the lower orders).
The card invites Robbie to join Abi at the Ritz, but hed better RSVP soon, as Abi isnt short of offers.
The paper reports that after this weeks Celebrity Awards ceremony, she was pursued by love rat James Hewitt in full charm mode.
The offer was politely declined.’
Fat Chance
‘THE trouble with diets is that once youve lost weight, its devilishly easy to put it straight back on.
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| Roooo-neyyy |
Take the Little Chef the rotund cartoon character who for years has welcomed us into motorway service stations with the promise of watery soup and a wholemeal roll for £19.99 or full English breakfast and miniature pot of tea for £84.50.
A few weeks ago this cuddly cook was axed, and a slim-line version was introduced for the company logo.
The problem with the old one was that he was accused of being overweight, or mistaken for a small child carrying hot food, which is dangerous.
Apparently large numbers of people had nothing better to do than write in and complain about this.
However, the new version was not to everyones taste either. Paedophiles didnt like it because it looked more adult but obviously their views were not taken into account.
Other people objected because he looked like he had been to a gym, and the level of support for the old version was so high that the company decided to reinstate him.
They said it was political correctness gone mad, said Little Chefs chief executive Tim Scoble. And the Daily Mail was happy to publish his words.
Meanwhile the companys marketing boss told the Mirror that: Its fantastic that the British public has reinforced our instincts.
Indeed. But is she referring to the instinct to go with the fat man, or the instinct to charge huge amounts of money for food widely regarded as the worst in western Europe?
Either way, the Little Chef is onto a winner.’
Mucking In
‘A PERVERT got thrills from covering himself in farmyard manure and performing sex acts, reports the Sun.
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| One man’s manure is another man’s porn |
Weirdo David Truscott loved pleasuring himself while wallowing in muck, it continues although this description could surely be applied to a large proportion of the Suns readers, not to mention its writers.
He also set fire to things, which is why he found himself in court, and thus in the pages of the Currant Bun.
When arrested he was wearing shiny read shorts and latex gloves, and it was later discovered that he owned (or was in possession of) 360 pairs of ladies knickers.
Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it probably didnt help his case when he came before the Beak.
On one occasion, Mr Truscott stripped to his pants and climbed inside a muck-spreader to fondle himself.
On another, he rolled around in dung while trying to set a tractor ablaze.
Again, while deploring the damage to property, we dont see why a freeborn Englishman shouldnt be allowed to pursue his pleasures, however rum they might be.
Yet Truscott was apprehended because of a seven-month surveillance operation by police in Truro a waste of resources at best, and at worst an example of rampant voyeurism at its most depraved.’
Now Hold On A Minute…
‘ITS a staple of every why-oh-why newspaper column, or weary consumer show, but theres life in the old story yet.
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| ‘Press 1 for Greesleeves; 2 to be told to bog off; 3 to be cut off… |
We speak, of course, of automated phone answering systems, which famously got rid of human beings and inserted endless irritating options.
Of course, it didnt get rid of them altogether, because the final option is usually: If you wish to speak to an operator, please hold.
At this point you can begin the traditional half-hour wait before being cut off. But dont get us started
Anyway, the Sun brings news of a company with a bracing alternative to such anodyne time-wasting.
The greeting (by a gruff man with a strong Geordie accent) begins: Hello, you are through to NTL customer services. We dont give a f*** about you. We are never here. And its downhill from there onwards.
We just will f*** you about, basically, and we are not going to handle any of your complaints it continues. Just f*** off and leave us alone. Get a life.
The Sun speaks to various disgruntled customers, including lecturer Richard Stanley, who says he can laugh about it but claims that it wouldnt have been so funny if a kid had got through.
(No, of course not. Kids are the last people who would find a puerile hoax message amusing.)
Perhaps NTL stands for Nothing but Terrible Language, says Mr Stanley, with a tongue as sharp as the knife that bears his name.
The paper reports that horrified NTL bosses axed the message yesterday afternoon.
They are inclined to blame hackers, although they havent ruled out an employee with a grudge.
Not a disgruntled customer, though a secure automated system would never have allowed them to get through in the first place.’
Town In The Dumps
‘LUTON enjoyed a brief period of celebrity in the 1970s thanks to a Campari ad featuring Lorraine Chase saying, Naah, Luton airport.
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| If only it were a bomber |
Her catchphrase even spawned a minor hit single by the improbably named Cats UK.
After that, and the football teams Littlewoods Cup triumph over Arsenal at Wembley, it drifted back into obscurity.
Until now, that is. For todays Mirror reveals that the Bedfordshire town is top of the pile once again albeit a pile of ordure.
Luton has been voted the crappest town in Britain in a poll conducted by people with nothing better to do at the Idler magazine.
Windsor came second, Sunderland third, and London 17th, two places above last years winner Hull.
Luton council leader David Franks dismissed the findings as a load of nonsense.
We are one of the only towns in Britain to have a multiplex cinema in the centre, he said.’
List Again
‘HERES a poser for you, courtesy of the Express.
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| The ingredients of a feature |
Why are we so fascinated by LISTS? asks its headline, on a page laid out in a way that uncannily resembles its bitter rival the Daily Mail.
Of course, when they say we, they clearly mean we, the desperate news and features editors who fill our pages with spurious list-based stories every day.
This is inadvertently made clear in the final paragraph: Have you any lists, past or present, produced either by yourself or someone in the family, or one you cut out because it amused or fascinated you? Well print the best of them.
And when theyve printed the best of them, theyll eke out the theme with the rest, you mark our words.
Watch this space for further updates.’
The Second Coming
‘LESLIES HUBBY TO DO A DIANA, announces the Star, to gasps of astonishment all round.
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| Lee and Leslie are planning a second honeymoon in Paris |
But this is not a story about John Leslies secret husband escaping from a three-in-a-bed home video shoot and then dying in a car crash. No, this is much stranger.
The Leslie is Leslie The Lip Ash, and the hubby is former footballer Lee Chapman. And how exactly will he do a Diana?
Why, by granting an intimate interview with Tonight With Trevor McDonald of course.
Apart from the physical resemblance flaxen locks and a long horsey nose there seems little else to connect Lee with Saint Di.
Perhaps he has been trained to bow his head and look up coquettishly from under his fringe.
The Stars far-fetched connection appears to be that like Diana, Lee will reveal all about his marriage, and in particular the allegations that he attacked his wife allegations which both he and Leslie have always denied.
Which begs the question: why, if they are merely going to deny everything, are they keen to do it all over again on national TV?
Cynics might say it is because Leslies career could do with a bit of publicity.
But ITVs major current affairs programme would never dream of colluding in such a tawdry objective, so there must be another reason.
We await with baited breath the programmes sensational revelations about WMD, Britains Olympic bid and the Blair-Brown pact.’
Golden Girls
‘LADIES, how much have you drunk so far today?
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| Seeing doubles |
Hands up if its more than a litre of white wine…
Would those of you drinking from the bottle using both hands kindly put it down for a moment and raise your hand so we can count…
Right, thank you. As we expected, our straw poll revealed that all our female readers were on the booze. Well done to all of you, its this kind of dedication that has helped put Britain at the top of the European league table.
The Daily Mail says that our 18 to 24-year-olds put away an average of 203 litres of alcohol a year 11 more than Germany in 2nd place and a massive 109 more than Holland in 3rd.
Again: well done. The Daily Mail pays tribute with a startling graphic resembling a Damien Hirst painting, with row upon row of wine bottles: 270 to be precise the projected average annual British consumption in 2008.
For those of you who still think in traditional measures, thats the equivalent of 482 pints of lager in the old money.
Of course, this being the Mail, they have to grub around for some kind of negative angle.
One might expect them to come up with an imaginative link to house prices – prospective first-time buyers blowing their deposit money on booze, for example.
Instead, they plump for a health scare, and repeat David Blunketts warnings about heavy drinking.
We here at Anorak dont care what the moaning minnies say. As far as were concerned, its another gold medal for Britains girls, to be polished and cherished alongside those of Kelly Holmes and that pair of rowers (or were they sailors?).
Whatever. Rejoice! Rejoice!!’
No Logo
‘THE British Council is under attack.
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| Four beer mats with whisky chasers |
Whats the British Council, you ask. The Star explains that its the organisation that is supposed to promote Britain around the world. Note the sarcastic supposed.
Of course, the only reason it is in the paper is because it appears to be doing no such thing.
In fact, it has committed the cardinal sin of dropping the Union Flag and replacing it with a new logo the very same mistake that British Airways once made, and for which it was publicly lambasted by Mrs Thatcher.
A spokesman for the Council has defended the new design (four blue dots), saying that: Promoting Britain abroad is not about logos.
May we be so bold as to suggest a compromise?
Why not combine tradition with progress? Why not take this opportunity to celebrate our national heritage while simultaneously acknowledging the achievements of our young liberated women?
A variation on the Australian and New Zealand flags would fit the bill admirably: a Union Flag in one corner, and, instead of stars, 203 wine bottles on a blue background.
Pray be standing (if you can) and raise your glasses. To Great Britain… And her ladies!’
Visitation, Visitation, Visitation
‘IS there anybody out there? asks the Daily Mail in a large headline, before answering: No.
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| ‘High interest rates… Whoooo’ |
But the question is not referring to its own readership. Rather, it speaks of and indeed to the paranormal community.
Now, a good journalist will move mountains in the pursuit of a story and so do the Mails intrepid hacks.
They pursue the suggestion that it might be possible to commune with the dead, and they do so for a full half-page before giving up the ghost.
But Daily Mail readers are busy people as of course are you and so the paper helpfully distils the article into the no-nonsense headline quoted above.
For once we find ourselves in full agreement with the Mail, but we cant help feeling that it has missed a trick.
For if ghosts dont exist, then, ergo, haunted houses dont exist either. And as ghosts are one of the leading factors in sales of homes falling through, then this must be good news for the property market.
By now someone will surely be working hard to rectify this oversight.
Rest assured, you will read all about it in the comfort of your marmalade-encrusted breakfast nook (itself a value-adding feature) tomorrow morning.’
Half Baked
‘HOW much does a plate of beans on toast cost?
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| ‘And this is what me and me mates call a fruit salad’ |
An unfair question of course, given that Anorak readers never touch the stuff.
But we ask the question in the same spirit that high court judges are sometimes asked to give the price of a pint of milk to the nearest guinea.
The answer depending on which paper you take is: £6 (Mirror), £7 (Star) or £8 (Mail).
A bit steep, you might think, but this isnt any old plate of baked beans. This is Baked Beans Bruschetta, and it was created by Zoe Brotherton, who is a trainee at Jamie Olivers restaurant Fifteen.
The Star says that Zoe invented the dish while experimenting with foods, and that she wanted to create something which diners will enjoy, is simple and nutritious and fun. Well, two out of three isnt bad.
The thrifty Mail gives the recipe, which includes balsamic vinegar, tomato, wild rocket and Parmesan.
Yet oddly, the baked beans are by Heinz, rather than the own-brand sold at Jamies own sponsors Sainsburys, where good food famously costs less (or so our housekeeper tells us).’
Banana Split
‘TALKING of pricey food, do you remember the SCANDAL OF THE £20,000 BANANA?
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| The getaway |
Just in case you dont, the Mirror has helpfully reprinted its headline, next to a new one: BANANAS II.
But these stories are not actually about the price of bananas. Rather, they refer to the theft of bananas and other modest items, and the cost of putting the thieves through the criminal justice system.
The original story referred to a man who, on a whim, stole
a banana from a restaurant kitchen and was hauled through the courts.
This time three cases are involved: the theft of £6-worth of curtain fittings, another theft of five sandwiches, and another in which a box of eggs was damaged.
Predictably, the Mirror finds this ridiculous. Once again, we here at Anorak disagree, and ask the Mirror a simple question: Whose side are you on?
Are we to allow sandwich thieves to chomp away on their ill-gotten gains with impunity? Shall no banana-owner be safe from the daylight robbery of his property?
Or shall we stand four-square behind the forces of law and order, and if necessary keep every egg-breaker and sandwich-snatcher behind bars for life?
Our letters page is at your disposal, and we are confident that you will support us in our stand for justice at whatever price.’
Teen Spirit
‘THERE’S still no sign of former virgin Britney Spears this morning as her post-wedding sexathon enters its third day.
| ”Please, Miss. What do I do now?” |
But we do get a glimpse of new husband Kevin Federline ”puffing on a cannabis pipe” in this morning’s Sun.
Not that Kevin has emerged from the £1,000-a-night room at the Hotel Bel-Air in Hollywood in which he and his bride have been holed up since their Saturday wedding.
The picture in question – and two more in a similar vein – was actually taken a few years ago before he met the pop princess.
”Kevin liked to smoke dope,” a source explains.
But did he like it as much as the average British teenager?
According to the Pocket Book Of World Figures, published by the Economist, 15-year-old Brits are some of the biggest tokers in the world.
Only Canadian and Swiss girls smoke more blow than the British – and both live in countries where boredom is a higher killer than heart disease.
The report claims that 31.7% of British girls and 36% of British boys have had a spliff in the past year.
That may only be enough to get a bronze for the girls and a fourth place for the boys, but there is better news in other disciplines.
For instance, according to the Express, British girls are the biggest boozers in the world – the gold medallists in the Ale-ympics.
A whopping 48.3% of 15-year-olds drink alcohol weekly – just ahead of the Dutch, the Danes and the Maltese.
And, thanks to a diet of fizzy drinks and four hours of telly a day, they are the fourth fattest – although predictably they are a long way behind the United States in first place.
As in academia, boys fare less well, trailing both the Dutch and the Maltese in the booze table.
Chief Medical Officer Sir Liam Donaldson tells the Express that the health crisis afflicting today’s teenagers ”could see many of them die before their parents”.
But not before they’re parents – another thing Britain leads the world in is teenage pregnancies…’
Welcome To Happiness!
‘THE happiest place in the United States right now may be Room 1001 at the Hotel Bel-Air in Hollywood, but in Britain it is the Kent town of Sevenoaks.
| Chester has its attractions |
According to a four-year study by Essex University, almost four out of ten people there described themselves as ”very satisfied” with life.
Next happiest is Chester, which got a 28% ”very satisfied” rating – hardly surprising as it is of course the home of Hollyoaks.
Huntingdonshire (home of Oliver Cromwell and John Major) was, according to the Mail, the least happy place in the country, with only a 9% rating.
So what is the secret of Sevenoaks’ happiness? Lots of 15-year-old girls smoking dope and downing vodka Red Bulls? Teenaged boys doing sex education practicals with their teachers?
No, the answer lies in a town’s community spirit with a direct correlation between satisfaction and the number of people who do good deeds for neighbours, join organisations like the Women’s Institute or sing in the church choir.
And are stoned when they answer surveys…’
Allergic To Sex
‘THERE was no three-day sexathon for Emma Jones when she got remarried recently – she is allergic to her new husband’s semen.
| ”Suddenly, the headache’s gone” |
In fact, the 34-year-old ”model” is apparently allergic to sex altogether.
”Every time I make love, I come out in a painful rash, suffer excruciating headaches, hot flushes and have breathing difficulties,” she tells the Mirror.
If that sounds like a normal bunk-up to you and us, the mother-of-two blames the break-up of her first marriage for her reaction.
First it was wheat and gluten; then it was latex; now it’s semen.
”People snigger when they hear about my allergy,” she says. ”But it’s not a laughing matter. It could even kill me.”
So what does Emma do?
”Without going into detail, it’ fair to say we have a healthy sex life,” she replies, ”but we have to be more creative than other couples.”
And if that means The Wheelbarrow Position every night, Emma’s not complaining…’
Britney’s Sexathon
‘IF Britney Spears is wearing a T-shirt at the moment (which we rather doubt), it would probably bear the slogan, ”Do Not Disturb”.
| How long before the teardrop explodes? |
The pop princess and her latest husband Kevin Federline have apparently not been seen since they checked into Hollywood’s Hotel Bel-Air together on Saturday night after their wedding.
And the Sun is in no doubt what they have been doing in the £1,000-a-night room.
”Oooooh! We Did It Again (And Again And Again And Again And Again And Again And Again)”, it says of what it imagines is a 48-hour sexathon.
And it claims that bodyguards have been given strict instructions not to disturb the lovebirds.
”We rang Britney once and she went ballistic,” one said. ”She said we were only to contact them again if the world caved in.”
The Mirror says the couple are holed up in Grace Kelly’s old suite – an elegant room with a wood-burning fireplace, a garden patio with outdoor spa and fountain.
And elegance is very much what we have come to associate with 22-year-old Britney.
The Mail has a picture of the teardrop silver pennant the couple gave out to the 15 guests who witnessed Saturday’s nuptials and we must admit it is a handsome creation.
We’re only sorry that the picture the happy couple chose of themselves wasn’t the one featured in the Sun of Britney checking out her husband’s, er, baby-making equipment.
But some people are never happier than when they’ve got something to criticise.
And the Star hears Britney’s rival Christina Aguilera dismiss the whole wedding as ”trashy, pathetic and low-rent”.
”I’d never have thought that girl would have done it this way,” she apparently said.
”I know she really loves Kevin, but this is like really low-rent this time. It’s surprising. The whole affair seems somewhat pathetic.”
However, the good news for those of us who love a good Britney wedding is that she may have to go through the whole thing again.
The Star says the marriage may be a sham – a wedding in name only.
”Britney may find that the priest did not have the authority to conduct weddings,” a source says.
”So, although they have had the ceremony, it’s in name only to protect her million-dollar finances in case it all goes wrong.”
Which means we should all dust down our velour tracksuits, get a new slogan printed on our T-shirts and get ready to – oooops! – do it again…’
Sir Ivor Notion
‘ANORAK has friends in high places and we are glad to hear our old friend Sir Ivor Roberts echo our view that President Bush is ”Al Qaeda’s best recruiting sergeant”.
| ”Vote Bush!” |
The Mail reports that the British ambassador to Italy made the remark in what was supposed to be an off-the-record conference in Tuscany at the weekend.
Sir Ivor reportedly told his hosts: ”If anyone is ready to celebrate the eventual re-election of Bush, it’s Al Qaeda.”
But if Bush is Osama Bin Laden’s best recruiting sergeant, then the British security services are pretty effective aides-de-camp.
The Sun has news of yet another security shambles after top-secret anti-terror plans were found in a plastic Tesco carrier bag on a train.
A warehouse worker from Essex apparently found the bag containing four CDs on the seat of a train and, when he found out what they contained, did his civic duty and handed them straight into the Sun.
”I was staggered they had been left in a scruffy Tesco carrier bag on a commuter train,” he said.
”Terrorists could have got hold of this CD and, after detonating a chemical bomb in London, used these to make further strikers on people escaping.”
The CD, which contained evacuation plans in case of an attack on the capital, reveal that the Highway Agency has already built special signs ready for use during a major alert.
They say: ”London Closed: Leave At Next Junction.” Or, as it’s more commonly known: ”M25 2 Miles.”’
Emmy And Me And Me…
‘IT will take more than a terror attack to stop Sarah Jessica Parker.
| ”Jose Chavez, Julio Chavez, Hayley Chaw…” |
The star of Sex And The City embarked on her acceptance speech after winning Best Comedy Actress at the Emmys sometime last night – and, when we last looked, she was still going.
The Mirror turned up to hear the actress start on her thank-yous, which included her co-stars, her husband, her son, her agent, her lawyer, her business manager, her publicist and passers-by.
But even it could not stay awake as she then started to thank those passers-by by name…
Organisers apparently tried to drown her out by starting up the orchestra, but even that did not deter our persevering star.
Producers then tried to take SJP out with gas, but that only had the effect of putting the few members of the audience still awake to sleep.
Snipers posted around the auditorium with orders to fire tranquiliser darts before she started readings out the Cs in the New York phone book were unable to stop her in mid-flow.
And so she continues…with people now starting to wonder which will last longer – her acceptance speech or Britney Spears’s latest marriage.’
Pimps & Maids
‘ON a slow news day, the tabloids can always rely on a Britney Spears wedding to fill the front page.
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| ‘Ooops…I did it again’ |
And today is no different – the pop princess got married at the weekend for the second time this year in a ceremony that even OK! would struggle to describe as anything but tacky.
But thankfully OK! wasn’t called upon to play verbal Rumpelstiltskin and spin this final straw for Britney’s mum Lynne into romantic gold.
Invitations were restricted to just 15 guests for what the Sun calls a ‘hush-hush’ ceremony at Scott Hill’s house in the San Fernando valley in California.
But it was the wedding outfits that really caught the eye.
Regular Anorak readers will know that Britney has taken to communicating with the outside world via slogans on her T-shirts.
The wedding was no different – Britney and husband du jour Kevin Federline both wore white tracksuits, hers emblazoned with Mrs Federline, his with The Pimp.
And the guests were also dressed in tracksuits, the men in white with ‘Pimps’ written on the back and the women (including Britney’s mum and sister) in pink with ‘Maids’ written on.
According to the Sun, the wedding menu was just as low-rent, consisting of Britney’s favourite foods, hamburgers and chicken wings.
However, the Star claims that the wedding itself was a Kabbalah-style ceremony and that makes Britney the first celeb Kabbalah bride.
If so, the clock is now counting down to the time when she becomes the first Kabbalah divorcee.
But at least the guests will have their memories of the happy day, as well as a large bar bill – they apparently had to buy their own drinks – and a goodie bag.
An insider tells the Star: ‘The guests all got gift bags containing a pair of jeans, a packet of sweets called Chew Juicy, a pair of shoe laces and a silver teardrop key ring with an image of the happy couple cuddling inside.’
Kevin’s mum Colette said: ‘There was nothing I would have changed.’
Maybe, a pack of Starbursts instead of Chew Juicy…and a different daughter-in-law.’
The £1m Woman
‘ABI Titmuss has a body that is apparently worth £1m.
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| Abi has a bulging bank balance |
Not our estimate, but that of this morning’s Star – although, like a bad GCSE maths student, the paper fails to show its working.
However, we would hazard a guess that the former nurse’s new breasts account for the majority of the seven-figure price tag as that is what the Star seems to be fixated with.
And not just the Star – today’s Sun comes up with an excuse flimsier than a Linda Barker coffee table to show the 28-year-old blonde in various states of undress.
‘Abi was wild…but I tamed her’ is the paper’s interpretation of boyfriend David Walliams’ admission that the two of them ‘lead a pretty quiet life these days’.
‘We try to stay in and lead as normal a life as possible,’ said the Little Britain star. ‘In general, I prefer to be anonymous.’
Of course, one way to remain anonymous is not to give interviews to the tabloids. Just a thought…’
Casual Text
‘WHILE Britney Spears was getting married on Saturday night, the rest of us were busy copping off. Or not, as the case might be.
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| ‘We met and had casual sex on a Saturday night. Thanks, AQA’ |
The Mirror says 10.48pm on a Saturday night – 12 minutes before pubs close – is the best time of the week to pull.
It is indebted to phone text service Any Questions Answered for this spurious bit of information.
Researchers there say that is the time that they receive their raunchiest enquiries.
‘Most morning texts are serious, work-related queries,’ says AQA co-founder Paul Cockerton, ‘but by evening, they’ve turned downright filthy.’
Some of the questions asked include ‘Where can I get casual sex?’; ‘My girlfriend’s away and I’m out with her best mate, who’s making eyes at me. Should I?’; and ‘Am I going to have sex with the bird next to me?’
The answers (courtesy of Anorak’s team of researchers) are ‘You can’t’; ‘In your dreams’ and ‘No – you are a sad loser who will never get laid. Ever.”
Sam Ties The Knot
‘SAM and Andy tied the knot this week and poor Sam is soon to find out if Andy will honour to love her for richer or poorer, when he tries to fleece her for everything shes got.
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| The happy couple |
Minty overheard Andy talking to his financial advisor in the Square (where of course all secretive business deals are done) about the papers he needed to get his new bride to sign. Dont worry, smirked Andy. Shell believe anything I say.
Because one of the East Ends most dangerous villains would of course he desperate to add half a snooker hall and a back street garage to complete his empire, wouldnt he?
Minty tried to convince Sam that Andy was only after her money, but the dumb blonde refuses to believe it. Mind you, a woman whose previous husband was Ricky clearly hasnt got any sort of standards at all.
Peggy Mitchell returned to Walford to see her only daughter walk up the aisle, and clearly dumb blondeness runs in the family as she was completely taken in by Andy too.
Youve got a good one there, she told Sam as she kissed her and saw her off on her honeymoon.
Now Peggys back, shes determined to put the Mitchells back on the amp (and sort out the ratings slide). Shes already bitch-slapped Kate and told her to leave Walford for two-timing Phil.
Same old Peggy, sighed Kate. Thats where shes wrong Peggys definitely wearing a new wig.
More shocking entrances this week as Vickys introduced her family to her new college boyfriend, Tommy.
Sharon and Chrissie were taken aback to discover that Tommy wasnt the spotty Travis fan theyd been expecting but actually her fortysomething tutor.
Its ironic that a woman married to an Internet pervert and another whos slept with her brother feel qualified to comment on anyones relationship, but thats family for you.’
