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.
Major Coke Bust
‘PRINCESS Diana didnt just put a new London fountain and a Paris road tunnel on the map – she made us sit up and notice a ginger soldier called James Hewitt.
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| You dirty rats! |
And today hes hard to miss, what with him being splashed over the cover of the Sun, his face hanging amid the headline, COKE CAD IN CUFFS.
A cameraman captures the moment when the most famous love rat of them all was taken away by police under suspicion of being in possession of cocaine.
He was also at the time of his arrest in the company of TV presenter Alison Bell, described as Hewitts girlfriend, and who, the paper points out, was once an old flame of Prince Edward.
She is also implicated in the scandal.
And we must say that, although Bell has dealt with Eddie, there is no suggestion whatsoever that the prince has ever dabbled in drugs, or, indeed, has taken anything or done anything to make him seem more interesting to the greater public.
This is a story about Bell and Hewitt, and one taken up with relish by all the papers, especially the Mirror, which employs photographic evidence to show Hewitts bad day.
Over two pages, the paper uses a snap taken by Hewitt-watcher Dennis Gill to show what looks like a drugs deal going down, and then Hewitt popping to the toilet of London’s Cactus Blue bar.
But although the photos appear to be suggestive of wrongdoing, its the cameramans literal version of events that really hits the mark.
Worried that Hewitt had broken the law, upstanding Gill called the police and, after a mere two hours waiting, a pair of plainclothes officers arrived on the scene.
I showed one of them the photos on my lap-top computer, says Gill. One of the officers said to me, Hes a dirty love rat, isnt he?
A nod from Gill was enough. The cops raided the Fulham bar, searched Hewitt and duly took him into police custody for the night.
Because if theres one thing the cops and all Jimmy Cagney fans dont like its a dirty love rat. Hanging really is too good for them…’
Now We Are Fifteen
‘JULIE Thomas is fifteen. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she is also an avid fan of Pooh Bear.
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| A honey trap? |
The Mail has a nice photo of Julie, who looks as surly and as disappointed with life as any teenage girl should.
But there is a dash of colour in Julie’s world, and it’s been tattooed on her right arm. There, in brilliant yellow and red ink is a reminder of her love for the little yellow bear.
Above the large tattoo, which has been reproduced by the paper in ‘actual size’, appears the message ‘Grandpa H’, a touching and delightful tribute to Julie’s grandfather Harry who passed away not too long ago.
You might now think that the Mail is about to applaud Julie, who has chosen to display a respect to the older generation so often seen as lacking in the nation’s youth.
But no, Julie is held aloft by the Mail as a warning to all. She is a sign of the times in which we live, when a youth is trapped between her childhood and a desire to grow up too fast.
But all is not lost for Julie, who also features in the Mirror.
Because, after telling readers how a tattoo is administered in no small detail, the Mail reveals that a process calls dermabrasion can rub it off.
Which is better news for Julie, and great news for the millions of children of Mail readers who will be spending the weekend etching a likeness of Bob The Builder onto their bodies and filling in the cracks with crayon…’
Who Dumped Whom?
‘AS if eavesdropping on the bitchy fall-out from a failed teenage romance, we learn more today about how Sven and Nancy came to break up.
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| ‘And he’s got a little willy’ |
The Mirror tells us that it wasn’t Nancy Dell’Olio that dumped Sven, but the England manager that kicked his Italian girlfriend into touch.
While just yesterday Nancy’s gang were whispering about how Sven wasn’t man enough for the Italian lawyer, Sven’s mates are today passing round a note that says he’d been trying to dump the woman since Christmas.
The Mirror laps it up, and then hears from Graziella Mancinelli, Sven’s girlfriend before Nancy came along.
Leaning on the lockers, Graziella is talking in a too-loud voice about how she’s really pleased her old flame’s dumped Nancy and how ‘Sven is too nice for her’.
And Mancinelli – far from bitter about being dumped by Sven for Nancy, despite having left her husband in 1993 to be with the heartbreaker – has more to say about her fellow Italian.
‘She is ambitious, but not in a nice way, more of a vulgar way,’ says the woman who’s put her failed love affair with Sven well and truly behind her.
‘She apparently talks about her own fame now, but she is nothing without Sven. Her VIP status will fade without him.’
That it might. But over in the girl’s toilets, Nancy finds an unlikely ally in Shar Jackson, who’s just given birth to Britney Spears’ fiancé Kevin Federline’s second child.
Jackson tells the Express that she bears no ill will towards multi-millionaire Britney, her child’s stepmother-to-be.
Because – and listen up, Graziella – ‘you should never blame the other woman’.
Meanwhile, over in the school canteen, Nancy finds yet more support, this time in the not inconsiderable shape of Vanessa Feltz.
Blessed with experience gleaned from her former career as a magistrate (and from being dumped by her cheating husband), Vanessa is holding court by the lo-fat spotted dick and custard.
She has heard from the Nancy salon and the Sven camp and now passes her judgment on all matters, via the Star.
‘Any bloke who plays away is a bastard,’ says Judge Nessy. ‘Cheats are amoral liars… Sven is a slippery sod… He’s a hard, dried-up, emotionless, robot of a man.’
So there you have it. We’ve heard from Nancy, Sven and their witnesses, studied the case, deliberated over the details and come up with the verdict that Sven never slept with Vanessa Feltz.
Which, given his track record, is something of an oversight…’
Designer Babies
‘SINCE for many women a baby is merely an accessory, why should you girls not be able to get one that matches your outfit or your mood?
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| ‘Hmm. Which one shall I take out with me today?’ |
The Mirror reports that the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority has said that women can give birth to ‘designer babies’, but only to help save the life of a sick sibling.
While this is good news for the parents of ill children who need lifesaving treatment that only someone with the same genes can provide, it infuriates pro-life campaigners.
In itself, this is no bad thing, but we learn that the anti-abortionists are upset that, in interfering with nature, this new science places us on a slippery slope to selecting a baby’s sex, hair colour, eyes and skin tone.
And do not doubt that science is moving on at a frightening pace.
Just look in the Mail where readers are aghast to learn that ‘if a baby sucks his right thumb, he will be right-handed’. And male, by the sounds of it.
Egad! This is mankind gone mad. Suddenly, we fear for our race’s future and hereby announce that Anorak will be setting up a compound for genetically unmodified people, untouched by evil science, in an underground cave in the Dollis Hill area of London.
Anyone wishing to join can apply online. However, we regret that we cannot accept anyone with blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles, one foot slightly longer than the other, coat-hanger shoulders, thin lips, squinty eyes, beards, leg hair, wing-nut ears…’
Son Of God
‘IT’S not every day you get to meet your hero. And yesterday the Pope achieved a long-held ambition and actually met the son of God.
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| The Pope spots Nicky Blair at the back of the crowd |
Well, make that one of His sons, because Tony Blair has three boys, and it was 18-year-old Nicky who yesterday came down to the Vatican to meet John Paul II.
The Mail even has a photograph of this spiritual happening, and it shows young Nicky looking on as his unnamed friend – let’s call him Gabriel – kissed the papal ring.
And the Pope had a few words of thanks for Nicky and Gabriel, delivering his speech to more than 7,000 pilgrims packed into the Paul VI Hall.
‘On the path of life, we often encounter moments of darkness,’ said the pontiff, ‘but the light of God’s word dispels that darkness, often quite unexpectedly.’
Too true. But what is that word that sheds light into the cracks of our broken minds?
Well, it can’t be ‘Iraq’ or ‘Hutton’, so what about ‘Butler’ or ‘whitewash’?’
A Cuban Heel
‘LOCK up your daughters, your mothers, your former weathergirl wives and your Italian lawyers because Sven Goran Eriksson is back on the market.
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| Svennis The Menace |
In a sensational transfer coup, the Mirror uses its front page to report that Nancy Dell’Olio, Sven’s partner for the past six seasons, has dumped him.
The Sun says that Nancy, in her own words, had ‘grown sick and tired’ of the constant fighting and wanted out.
But Sven is a passionate man and, if he throws cups in the master bedroom with the en suite dressing room at their Regent’s Park mansion, then so be it.
He can no more cool his Nordic hot-blooded temperament and stop himself being linked to women like Faria Alam, PA at the FA, than he can stop breathing. It’s just the way God made him.
Not that Faria, the young brunette who denies any involvement with irresistible Sven, has played any part in the split.
Really, she has not, because a friend of Nancy’s tells the Mirror that the Italian believes Sven did not cheat on her – at least not with Ms Alam.
No, the given reasons for the split are, in no particular order: ‘She was fed up with living in the England coach’s shadow’ (Mirror); he grew ‘jealous of Nancy’s growing fame’ (Mirror); ‘she is an incredibly strong woman, has her own life to lead and Sven has been getting in the way of that’ (Mirror’s unnamed source); she ‘feels humiliated by the rumours about Sven’s cheating’ (Sun’s unnamed source); and ‘Sven wasn’t really man enough for a woman like Nancy’ (Mirror’s unnamed source).
But while Nancy stays in the house and Sven moves out with an overnight bag and a spring in his Cuban heels, she feels the urge to say her piece.
So she speaks to her friends, who then speak to the Sun, who now relay to us why Nancy really wanted out.
‘Everyone presumes I am some downtrodden woman who is desperate to hang on to a relationship that is doomed,’ says she, ‘but that is not the case.’
Clearly it is not. And while the Sun, for reasons best known to itself, positions a story about Victoria Beckham to the left of the Sven and Nancy sensation, the Mirror employs two pages to show: ‘Sven And Nancy: The Love They Lost.’
There are countless pictures of the couple embracing in public, of Nancy in her demure grey suits and of Sven almost smiling.
There’s even a shot of Sven talking to Ulrika Jonsson over croissants.
And it all makes us realise how much we’ll miss the Sven and Nancy show – the laughter, tears, energy, passion and style. And his, well, his magic has to speak for itself…’
The Jackson Four
‘WHEN Michael Jackson dangled baby Prince Michael II from a German hotel balcony in 2002, we feared one of Jacko’s hands would come off and disaster would strike.
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| ‘It’s all right – there are plenty more where this one came from’ |
Happily, nothing happened – Michael’s hands are made of stronger stuff than his nose and we never got to see if the bouncing baby boy could actually bounce.
Perhaps it was the realisation of how close he came to losing his second son that caused Jackson to think about breeding more children.
So, Jackson impregnated a fan by artificial insemination and she is now carrying not one, but four, of his children.
To the Sun, this is ‘quite clearly a blatant attempt by pop freak Michael Jackson to get himself off serious sex charges’. Jackson makes the Sun’s ‘stomach turn’.
For the record, Jackson stands accused of sexually assaulting 12-year-old Gavin Arvizo after first plying him with booze.
Jackson denies any wrongdoing although, if convicted of all charges levelled against him, he will, the paper says, face up to 74 years in jail without any chance of parole.
Which could mean that his four children currently growing inside an unnamed actresses only ever get to see their pop through a glass screen.
Although, for his existing brood, this will make a nice change to a veil and mask…’
God(frey) Is A Yorkshireman
‘FROM Geoffrey Boycott to the county’s own Ripper, Yorkshire has long been less than a haven for womankind.
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| A champion of women |
And now, adding to their misery is Godfrey Bloom, the UKIP MEP for Yorkshire and the Humber, who has been waxing lyrical about the place of women in society.
Taking his seat on the European Parliament’s women’s rights committee, Bloom decided to share his views on his chosen specialist subject with the Mail.
‘I am here to represent Yorkshire women who always have dinner on the table when you get home,’ said Bloom. ‘I am going to promote men’s rights.’
He also said that he wanted to deal with women’s rights too because ‘I just don’t think they clean behind the fridge enough’.
Something of an odd comment from Mr Bloom, and it makes us wonder if his ‘fridge’ is a euphemism for some secret, dare it be said, perverted behaviour he likes his ladyfolk to engage in.
Things become murkier still when we learn, via the Express, that Bloom’s wife Katie is a horse physiotherapist and that the ‘fridge remark was a family joke that would have his wife roaring with laughter’.
Indeed, the Express thinks the MEP’s comments might be ‘funny’ to more than himself and his wife, and invites its readers to spend a British 25p calling one number to say ‘Yes’ they are funny or another to say ‘No’ they are not.
The results will be in tomorrow, when we will discover if the EU is not only taking away our right to use wives as a live-in skivy but eroding our great British sense of humour as well…’
False Alam
‘FOR the past six years Nancy Dell’Olio has been Sven Goran Eriksson’s main strike partner.
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| Sven ponders playing three up front |
Despite his brief flirtation with a very forward blonde from his native country, the nippy Italian has remained Sven’s first choice and has continued to play alongside the coach of England’s football team.
Nancy has, as she herself explained during a recent TV interview with Jonathan Ross, provided Sven with the good and regular service he needs to fire his bullets.
But yesterday’s rumours that he’s been trying out a new formation with a mystery brunette are today given substance by the Express, which has a shot of Faria Alam.
Seen wearing a brown dress and beige calf-length boots, the Express says Alam emerged from her office at the Football Association and ‘smirked in bemusement as she watched the media interest around her’.
Moving inside the FA’s headquarters in London’s Soho Square was Sven, who is described by one onlooker as having had a ‘face like thunder’ – or, as is his wont, a face like an overcast, grey, wet afternoon in Malmo.
But why should he worry? Sure, Nancy flew back from Rome on a private jet for emergency talks over her future, but he has done no wrong – not this time.
To prove his innocence, the Sun caught up with Ms Alam and asked her if the allegations that she and Sven had been training together behind closed doors were true.
‘There is absolutely no truth in this story,’ says Alam. ‘I have been shocked by the untrue allegations… I am taking legal advice because I can 100 per cent categorically deny any involvement with the England coach.’
If she were a footballer, Alam would be now kissing the badge of her current club and pledging her future to the cause.
Although, given that such a move is often a precursor to a high-profile transfer, we should not dwell on this analogy.’
Malice At The Palace
‘THE big gates and 8ft wall surrounding Beckingham Palace serve the purpose of keeping the commoners out – but they also, by happy coincidence, keep the Beckhams in.
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| ‘At him, boy!’ |
Given Posh’s vocal performances and Day-vid’s recent showings on the pitch, it’s a miracle the locals of Sawbridgeworth haven’t dug a deep, wide moat around the Beckhams’ mansion and filled it with vengeful musos and angry English football hooligans to scare the couple into staying put.
Whether the man caught yesterday prowling the palace’s inner compound has a keen ear for music and a lager-fuelled love for his country is not revealed by the Mail.
All we know is that he has been apprehended.
And it’s a good job he was caught early, since the Sun reports that the intruder, who had scaled the perimeter wall and was ranting and raving outside the property, was in possession of petrol and a crowbar.
But before you shudder in dread at the impending mayhem, know that, like Posh’s solo musical career and Dave’s penalty, this is a story of what might have been.
Just like Posh’s musical career and Dave’s Euro 2004 campaign, it promised the world and delivered nothing – the ‘maniac’ was intercepted by security guards before any harm could be done.
But the experience was not without its victims, and Victoria was left trembling.
‘Victoria is shaken up,’ says a source close to the family. ‘He was ranting and raving about David. He wasn’t really making any sense, but the terrifying thing was that he had petrol with him.’
Okay, so it’s an unusual thing to carry around a canister of petrol, but perhaps the unnamed man, who has been questioned and released on police bail, was just looking for his car.
As for the ranting and raving, the explanation is clear – he was just a desperate songwriter keen to showcase his new tune to the talented Posh.
Her misunderstanding of the situation might just be further evidence of what we suspected all along – that she wouldn’t know a good song if it jumped over a wall and shouted in her face…’
Kaballah-La-La
‘WHEN you’re a 45-year-old, twice-married mother of two, strapping yourself into a conical bra and singing Like A Virgin means you’re either a drag act or taking irony to the outer limits.
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| ‘And why can’t you find a nice Jewish girl to marry?’ |
But Madonna is neither of those things, and as a result tickets for her Re:invention tour are selling like, well, conical-shaped bras.
The Mail says that anyone who wants to see Madge perform her routine can have their pick of the seats.
‘Put it this way,’ says a source at Wembley box office (Madonna is due to play four dates at Wembley Arena), ‘if someone wanted to bring a party of 30 Madonna fans to see any of the Wembley or Manchester dates, there would be no problem.’
It sounds like the singer’s latest re:invention has not gone far enough and she needs a new hook.
And the Sun thinks it has spotted just the thing as it tells readers that Madonna has taken to singing in Yiddish.
Billed as Esther, the chanteuse has been trying out her new act at the home of Kaballah guru Phillip Berg, performing before a small crowd of ‘partying, rock ‘n’ roll rabbis’.
What Boy George began in the 1980s with his Hasidic-inspired outfit, Madonna could be taking on a stage further.
And this is good news for her fans and for ticket sales.
Because at an Esther gig, not only will you get a musical concert, you’ll also get some advice on your love life, told how unsuitable your boyfriend/girlfriend is, reminded how much you’re upsetting your grandparents, be force-fed more gefilte fish than you can shake a stick at, asked why you don’t have any children yet…’
Sven Plays Away
‘YOU can argue about the existence of WMDs, debate the toss on whether Posh, Rebecca Loos, David Beckham or a sandy penalty spot was to blame, but there can be argument that Sven Goran Eriksson is a passionate man.
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| ‘Where’s the asterisk button on this phone?’ |
The way Sven’s eyes almost flicker and his pupils dilate when England concede a goal, and his Marlon Brando-like post-match interviews in which each of his few words is delivered with maximum thought and a seductive ‘er…’, are among the more obvious signs of his vigour.
Charismatic Sven might talk softly, but he needs to carry a big stick to beat off all the women who come to his door, entranced by his allure.
Only Sven might not have been wielding his stick with as much gusto as he should, as we learn in the Express that England’s head football coach is alleged to have been having an affair with a ‘mystery girl’.
We also learn that this new flame looks just like his current lover Nancy Dell’Olio, is English of foreign extraction and was pulled after a campaign of ‘sexy phone calls’.
We never get to hear the woman’s name – well, not yet – although we do learn in the Sun that the Football Association deny claims that the brunette works for a senior figure at the organisation.
We also hear that Sven and Nancy are still together, even though they are holidaying in separate locations, she in a villa outside Rome and he in tropical Norway.
And in among the hints and nudges we never learn what Sven is supposed to have said to his new lover on the phone, and nothing of the text messages he may or may not have sent.
‘The word was that Sven had been texting her,’ says a ‘close friend’ of the Swedish sexpot in the Sun. ‘But he never texts. I don’t think he knows how to.’
But we know a man close to Sven who does, apparently. And it’s intriguing to think of David Beckham sending some of his own mobile missives to Sven to forward to some new paramour.
Or that Sven somehow got hold of his captain’s phone and pressed redial…’
One Small Step
‘WHOEVER said love hurts was right. And if one woman knows how painful matters of the heart can be, it’s Leslie Ash.
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| ‘Your plaice or mine, fishface?’ |
With what the Express calls ‘pain and determination etched on her face’, the actress inches forward along the London pavement as she takes the air from her hospital bed.
These are a few small steps for a woman, but a big leap for the paper which splashes the event across pages two and three beneath the headline, ‘Leslie’s Agonising Steps’.
But she is, as the Mail says in its headline, ‘Back On Her Feet’ – and doting husband Lee Chapman’s supportive arm plans to keep her there.
Lee’s been a rock ever since his wife contacted Methicillin-Sensitive Staphylococcus Aureus in hospital, where she was recovering from injuries caused in an, er, energetic sex session.
Chapman might be an animal who never hit his wife in his own home, but he’s also got a tender touch that the world got to see as he propped up his wife in a public show of affection.
The new poster-girl of the MRSA superbug generation (her condition is related to the scourge of hospital wards) is truly in safe hands.
And so long as they don’t try to kiss or engage in anything more gymnastic, she should make progress nicely…’
The Will Of God
‘GOD moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform. But travel is expensive these days and His feet are not what they were, so can you spare some cash and see Him right?
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| Ripon or rip-off? |
You don’t have to give until it hurts – not that you’ll feel much pain when you’re dead.
Prepare to hang your head down low and pray as we relate the Mail’s story of how the Right Rev John R Packer, Bishop of Ripon and Leeds, likes to raise funds.
The story started when 99-year-old Edith Hunt was sent to hospital.
Uninvited, a chaplain arrived at her bedside and, although Edith can’t recall giving her visitor any personal details, he talks to her.
A few days later a letter drops though her front door.
Her great-great-grandson, Darren Hunt, opens the note and sees at once that it is from the aforesaid Bishop – there being a picture of the cleric alongside his letterhead.
In the letter, the Bishop introduces himself, and then reminds Edith that Ripon Cathedral is an expensive place to run and that it might cost £300,000 just to fix the roof on the nave.
But she mustn’t worry too much if she can’t stump up the lot in her will because the bishop knows a few people in the trade and ‘a donation of say, an oil painting, a piece of antique jewellery, or a Victoria sideboard, can be just as financially helpful to the future of the cathedral as a cash gift’.
He goes on: ‘Anther helpful way you can ensure the future of this great living part of Christian civilisation is through the gift of shares or property. Or even by taking out a Standing Order now.’
Despite this generous offer, Mr Hunt is not best pleased, and having remarked on how his great-great-grandmother has only ever attended church for death, marriages and funerals, calls the Church a bunch of ‘sanctimonious mercenaries’.
For his part, a spokesman for the bishop says that his master regrets any offence caused – and that it is hard for a rich old widow who’s grassed up the Church to enter the kingdom of Heaven, unless she first allows God to cash in on the local property boom by donating all her worldly goods to the clergy.
Amen.’
Dirty Old Man
‘EASTENDERS has had some unbelievable storylines recently: Sharon and Dennis, the great inflatable dragon disaster, the entire Ferreira family
But nothing comes close to the horror that is Dirty Den and his harem.
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| Fags for the memories |
Somehow, were expected to accept an aging pervert who resembles a sun-dried raisin as some sort of sex god who young, attractive women cant live without. You love it, he told Kate, fondling the loose change in his pocket in that slightly disturbing way he has.
Kate has been having second thoughts about their affair (only second?) and was thinking of ending it. Den promised Kate that as soon as the money was through for the sale of their flat in Spain, hed leave Chrissie. As a sweetener he bought Kate a necklace of the market, naturally. But would you believe it? Chrissie ended up finding it.
Den, as usual, managed to slime his way out of trouble by pretending that Ian had asked him to buy the necklace for Kate as the wheelchair-bound chip shop owner couldnt get to the shops.
Chrissie, being as woolly-headed as her hideous perm would suggest (is that Roly on her head), believed every word. Oh Den, she simpered, youre the best husband in the world. Compared to Henry VIII, possibly.
Ian was delighted when Den presented him with a necklace to give to Kate, as hes been trying to woo her for ages. Ians decided to play on the fact hes in a wheelchair to blackmail Kate into looking after him. Luckily for her, so far he hasnt asked her for a bed bath yet though.
Ians new employee, Jane, has discovered that Ian isnt quite as wheelchair bound as hed been letting people believe when she caught him walking around the caff.
In another gripping Eastenders storyline, Jane had changed the caffs sausage delivery firm and Ian wasnt happy. If its one fink I know, its sausages, Ian shouted. Well, he said it. Jane left the caff to set up a sausage taste test (dont ask) and while she was away, a chip pan caught fire. Ian leapt out of his wheelchair to put it out and Jane caught him red-handed.
Someone with real health worries though is Dot. Obviously a woman whos husband abused her, a son who tried to kill her and a grandson who was murdered clearly hasnt suffered enough in Walford; shes now set to develop cancer. To be fair, she must single-handedly keep the tobacco companies of Europe in business but it seems a bit harsh for her and viewers.
Especially when there are far more worthy characters wed like to see suffering or preferably dead.’
Dirty Den
‘THERE has been a lot of speculation about Tony Blairs state of mind of late, and still more discussion of the psychological traits that allowed him to ruthlessly pursue the war in Iraq despite its effects on his personal popularity.
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| ‘Trust me – I’m a lawyer and a politician’ |
The Daily Mail, in keeping with other papers, has devoted hundreds of thousands of words to this subject without ever getting any nearer to solving the man described (by us) as a mystery buried in an enigma and wrapped in a riddle.
But now, quite unexpectedly, the papers coverage of the Butler report offers a genuine insight into the influences brought to bear on the beleaguered Prime Minister. And as usual, a picture proves to be worth a thousand words.
Using one of their very finest illustrators, they have recreated the scene at No. 10 as Tony planned his war.
The caption reads: Members of the Downing Street Den, and the drawing shows the Leader leaning forward to deliver words of wisdom to a select group of acolytes, including Sir David Manning (Special foreign policy advisor), John Scarlett (Director-designate of MI6), and Jonathan Powell (Prime Ministers Chief of Staff).
However, the picture itself shows that these are just cunning aliases. The above figures are clearly recognisable as cricket writer par excellence Christopher Martin-Jenkins, the bloke who played the camp vicar in Dads Army, and Colin Hunt, the self-confessed office loon from The Fast Show.
No wonder Alastair Campbell is seen brooding in the background, eyes casting an I dare you look at the Mails nervous yet steady-handed scribbler.’
Representative Democracy
‘MORE happy news for Michael Howard this merry morning.
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| Folksetone is a safer place today |
First he picks over the bones of the latest by-election hammerings. Then he turns to the later pages for some light relief.
And there he discovers news of the Conservative councillor Robert Richdale, who is a rum old cove, to say the least.
Killer, paedophile, drug addict, thief, forger, jailbird, says the Mirror, as it profiles the self-styled family man who won a seat on Folkestone East council last month.
Now that he has been rumbled, Richdale has come out fighting. Im not a pervert really, he says. I dont see that being on the Sex Offenders Register was a big deal. Its all in the past now.
Hear, hear. And as for all the other stuff, well, let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
However, the most worrying thing for the Tories is that Richdale says he became a Tory candidate by signing a piece of paper that he didnt read.
Perhaps he thought he had wandered into some drop-outs centre and was signing up for some kind of benefit. Whatever.
There is some good news for Mr Howard, though. He is a marvellous man and will be Prime Minister one day, says Richdale. I think he liked me and all I have been doing for him on the streets of Folksetone.
Mr Howards views are not known.’
Turning A Blind Eye
‘AND finally, the Star reports that police attended the scene of a road accident for more than three hours without noticing that a man was lying dead in a ditch.
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| Milking it for all its worth |
The paper says that the man is believed to be an Iraqi. Which may or may not explain everything.
And from the same paper, we learn the wonderful news that Bryan and Kerry McPadding are to wed again.
Instantly, our minds work through the possibilities of which minor celebs would marry either of them.
But since they are marrying each other, we breath easy.
After all, they deserve each other…’
Watts Going On?
‘EASTENDERS has had some unbelievable storylines recently: Sharon and Dennis, the great inflatable dragon disaster, the entire Ferreira family
But nothing comes close to the horror that is Dirty Den and his harem.
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| Fags for the memories |
Somehow, were expected to accept an aging pervert who resembles a sun-dried raisin as some sort of sex god who young, attractive women cant live without. You love it, he told Kate, fondling the loose change in his pocket in that slightly disturbing way he has.
Kate has been having second thoughts about their affair (only second?) and was thinking of ending it. Den promised Kate that as soon as the money was through for the sale of their flat in Spain, hed leave Chrissie. As a sweetener he bought Kate a necklace of the market, naturally. But would you believe it? Chrissie ended up finding it.
Den, as usual, managed to slime his way out of trouble by pretending that Ian had asked him to buy the necklace for Kate as the wheelchair-bound chip shop owner couldnt get to the shops.
Chrissie, being as woolly-headed as her hideous perm would suggest (is that Roly on her head), believed every word. Oh Den, she simpered, youre the best husband in the world. Compared to Henry VIII, possibly.
Ian was delighted when Den presented him with a necklace to give to Kate, as hes been trying to woo her for ages. Ians decided to play on the fact hes in a wheelchair to blackmail Kate into looking after him. Luckily for her, so far he hasnt asked her for a bed bath yet though.
Ians new employee, Jane, has discovered that Ian isnt quite as wheelchair bound as hed been letting people believe when she caught him walking around the caff.
In another gripping Eastenders storyline, Jane had changed the caffs sausage delivery firm and Ian wasnt happy. If its one fink I know, its sausages, Ian shouted. Well, he said it. Jane left the caff to set up a sausage taste test (dont ask) and while she was away, a chip pan caught fire. Ian leapt out of his wheelchair to put it out and Jane caught him red-handed.
Someone with real health worries though is Dot. Obviously a woman whos husband abused her, a son who tried to kill her and a grandson who was murdered clearly hasnt suffered enough in Walford; shes now set to develop cancer. To be fair, she must single-handedly keep the tobacco companies of Europe in business but it seems a bit harsh for her and viewers.
Especially when there are far more worthy characters wed like to see suffering or preferably dead.’
A Bunch Of Racists
‘OKAY, heres a surprise it appears that many of the members of the neo-Fascist British National Party are racists. And others are thugs. And still more are yobs.
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| ‘Backward and evil’ |
And there were we thinking that the party was just a vehicle for respectable politicians to have a debate about our national identity.
Dont we feel silly this morning when we read the front page of the Sun and discover that BNP stands for Bloody Nasty People!
Apparently, undercover reporter Jason Gwynne infiltrated the higher echelons of the party and spent six months secretly filming his experiences.
And tonight in a shock TV documentary we will see BNP leader Nick Griffin calling Islam a vicious, wicked faith and Steve Barkham boasting about how he kicked an Asian man in the head.
We will get to meet BNP councillor Stewart Williams, who tells of his dream to attack Bradford mosques. All I want to do is shoot Pakis, he says (or P*kis, if you read it the Sun).
And we will hear from council candidate Dave Midgley, whose idea of canvassing is to squirt dog dirt through the letterbox of an Asian takeaway.
The Star has also watched preview tapes of the same documentary, which is why it has the exclusive story detailing how loathsome BNP activists will be exposed tonight as race-hate monsters.
The film, it says, gives a lie to the BNPs claims that they have become a moderate party worthy of being part of mainstream politics.
We are genuinely shocked. Next well find out that we have elected a man to the European Parliament who believes that all Arabs are suicide bombers, limb amputators and women repressors and that Muslims are backward and evil.
What? We have? Former Express columnist and enemy of white pillowcases everywhere Robert Kilroy Silk…’
Loos Yourself
‘WHY cant family wrecker Rebecca Loos just crawl back under the rock from which she emerged?
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| Taxi for Miss Loos |
Were so sick of the girl who bedded Becks that we are going to devote the whole of this story to her. What is more, were going to publish a picture of her. And her nipple.
There! If theres anything thats going to persuade the randy tart (Star) to hide her light under a very big bushel, then that is it.
But it seems that other papers have the same idea the Star even puts the pictures of the woman it calls Loose Knickers on its front page.
Its coven of gossip witches a low-rent 3am girls bumped into the 26-year-old slapper at the Robert De Keyser party at Londons Pangaea nightclub.
The randy tart even tried to touch our knees before begging us to pose with her for the bored paparazzi, they report.
As were used to having our pictures taken with the likes of Nicole Kidman, Will Smith and Ben Affleck, we politely declined.
Thatll teach the attention-seeking little hussy, especially as the Mirrors coven the actual 3am girls were there to drive home the same message.
Can somebody please stop Rebecca Loos from inflicting herself on the public? they plead, underneath the obligatory photos of our Becky.
Take that as a first warning, Loos. Well keep publishing pictures of you until you do the decent thing and disappear…’
A Woman For All Seasons
‘RATHER like air that we breathe, Michelle Marsh belongs to us all.
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| The non-thinking man’s Lucy Pinder |
She is a gift to humanity at large and we can no more claim ownership of her than we can of the view from Waterloo Bridge, say, or the smell of wild flowers in the springtime.
That hasnt stopped people from trying, however, and this morning the Sun and Star lock horns over the topless stunna.
The Sun devotes its Page 3 to pictures of the Page 3 beauty showing off her giant inflatables…as she larks in the Med on a blow-up dolphin.
The 32FF model had a whale of a time, it reports, as she romped in the water, joined by pals including Emma David, 19, girlfriend of Blue hunk Lee Ryan.
But the Star also devotes its Page 3 to the Star babe who is making a flippin big splash on hols.
The Oldham babe showed off her own buoyancy aids, it reports, as she frolicked on a boat trip with some pals including Blue star Lee Ryans new girlfriend Emma Davis.
And then like The Little Mermaids large-chested sister, she was off to emerge who knows where and bring yet more cheer into the lives of British holidaymakers…’
Pump Inaction
‘HOW could it be? The Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, the circle of tears symbolising the gaping chasm her untimely death left in all of our lives, has dried up.
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| ‘Turn off the water, Sid. There’s something stuck in the tunnel’ |
Yesterday, the Mail says, visitors to Hyde Park were greeted with the sight of children playing on the monuments granite slabs instead of splashing around in the water.
And they could only watch as engineers struggled to fix a pump as part of what Theo Moore, spokesman for the Royal Parks, described as routine maintenance.
Routine maintenance?! The £3.6m fountain has only been open officially a week and already it has broken down twice.
Okay, so the first time it overflowed a fitting symbol perhaps of the overpowering grief we all still feel about the demise of the Queen of Hearts.
That was blamed on bad weather, after it became blocked by leaves from heavy summer storms something that no-one would have foreseen in a wooded area of a London park.
But yesterday there was no water at all it was almost as if after a massive outpouring of grief we had all got on with our lives and forgotten about the Princess entirely.
That, of course, couldnt be further from the truth in Anorak Towers, for instance, we remember her every Friday at 4 oclock when we tuck into the fruitcake kindly provided by old Mr Anorak.
However, the Royal Parks informs us (via the Mail) that yesterday was just a temporary glitch.
Mr Moore said the pump has a very fine tolerance and gets disrupted very easily.
We had to take the pump out and do a thorough check on it to make sure it didnt develop into something much more serious, he said (although what could be more serious for a fountain than an absence of water we dont know).
We have found leaves and other debris in it. We presume they were the same leaves that were blown into the system during last weeks storm.
The good news, however, is that the fountain is back up and running.
And, assuming that there is no more unforeseen wind, bad weather or unruly leaves, theres no reason why it should not keep flowing for years to come.’
Costa Notta Lotta
‘HYDE Park is not exactly the best location for a fountain that is allergic to bad weather.
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| We shall not fight them on the beaches this year |
The Diana Memorial Committee would have done far better to have sited it in the south of Spain where they could have had it built at a fraction of the cost and with none of the problems.
Hell, they could have even incorporated a crazy golf course as part of the design, with golfers putting through the James Hewitt Windmill and negotiating the Camilla Dragon.
After all, Dianas last holiday was spent cruising in the Mediterranean and the Spanish coast is already populated almost exclusively by British criminals and tourists.
Even more so this year, as the Star reports that our old rivals the Germans cant afford to go on holiday and are leaving all the sunbeds to the Brits.
The Mirror says travel agents are offering the cheapest package deals for 30 years to try to tempt holidaymakers to the Costa del Sol.
And the Sun has news of one man who couldnt resist footballer Michael Owen has splashed out £800,000 on two luxury villas near Fuengirola for his family.
But if holidays are so cheap, why cant the Germans afford to come?
The Star claims it is because the country is in the grip of a recession, but there may be more to it than that.
A Mintel report shows that the one nationality that Brits fear coming across on holiday more than any other is…the British (see Broads).
The Germans probably feel the same way…’
Round And Round
‘WE at Anorak Towers are still waiting for the phone call from Her Majesty inviting us to become an OBE or CBE or whatever they are to be called now for services to golf.
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| Nice work if you can swing it |
After all, Britain cannot have too many ambassadors whose duty it is to play or watch – the royal and ancient game at every opportunity.
And although Prince Andrew does his best to squeeze in as many holes as he can (and were talking about golf here) in between his other engagements, he cannot be everywhere.
Not that he doesnt give it a damn fine shot (and were not talking about golf here), with the Mail catching up with him on the links at Royal Troon.
The paper says the Prince arrived in Scotland by helicopter from Lancashire where he had had two days of official engagements (Royal Birkdale, Formby and two rounds at Royal Lytham).
He then managed to squeeze in a game at Loch Lomond before walking round Troon, in his capacity as captain of the R&A, watching the worlds top players practise.
It is a busy schedule for any man, but especially for one who also has to be seen visiting, say, the Bahrain Grand Prix or lounging on a yacht surrounded by topless females.
We note from the Mail that the Prince has now availed himself of the services of financial guru Amanda (36-24-36) Thirsk as an official controller.
All we are saying is that if he needs any help carrying out his official duties, then he knows where we are.’
