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.
May Luck Be A Lady
‘MARION Richardson knew she was coming into money when she was knitting.
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| February is the cruellest month |
The Sun says that the supergran felt her hand itch, and, as any old wife will confirm, if your right palm itches, you’re coming into money.
It might also mean you’ve got ringworm or picked up an infection of a sort which in the more advanced years can be nasty or even fatal.
So best to get any itching checked out before you buy a lottery ticket.
But some people are just born lucky. And the Mail has the proof, thanks to a survey by one Professor Richard Wiseman.
The psychologist from the University of Hertfordshire surveyed 40,000 Britons via the Internet to see how lucky they considered themselves to be.
And he put the findings in a neat graph, which shows that those born in May believe they are the luckiest of them all, while those born in October should not walk under any ladders.
But why should this be? Prof Wiseman has an idea.
‘The environmental factors around the birth period, like exposure to sunshine and temperature, could all influence the body’s biological systems extending into adulthood,’ he says.
The Mail supports Wiseman’s theory with some celebrity birthdays, reminding us that John Lennon, who was so unlucky he was murdered, was born in October, while lucky Jordan was born on May 22.
And by way of interest, the paper also notes that Vanessa Feltz was born in February, a very grim month indeed…’
Beckham And Us
‘BEFORE things get too out of hand, Anorak would just like to state that we have never had a sexual encounter of any kind with David Beckham.
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| Victoria has vowed to keep a close eye on her husband from now on |
In the melee of continued media speculation and salacious suggestions to the contrary, we feel our position is such that the record must be set straight.
And where we lead others follow, with David and his wife Victoria issuing their own statement, which can be read by all in the Sun.
‘This weekend a series of even more absurd and unsubstantiated claims have been published about David and Victoria Beckham,’ it says.
‘The couple continue to dismiss these stories and they will not be commenting upon them further at this time. Lawyers have been instructed by David and Victoria concerning these matters.’
Instructed to do what is not said, and we can only pray that these lawyers are no specialists in divorce.
For one thing, Posh has flopped as a solo act in the past and must be advised against striking out alone again.
However, divorce may be the least of the Beckhams’ concerns if they don’t get off that quad bike soon.
Rik Mayall and Ozzy Osbourne have both been horribly injured falling off such vehicles, and the sight of the Beckhams riding one in the Express chills the spine.
The Sun has a similar shot of the pair sitting astride the motorised cry for help, and looks on aghast as England’s football captain recklessly reaches forward to give his wife a peck on the cheek.
Thankfully, he stops there and doesn’t then whip out his mobile phone and send her a text message proclaiming his undying love and how much he fancies her.
But if he does, rest assured, we will get to hear of it…’
The Joy Of Text
‘THE Daily Mail has a theory that the trouble with Posh and Becks is not rooted in his trousers or her reluctance to live in Madrid, but in text messaging.
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| ‘I want to **** your **** too, Peter Pan!’ |
‘2 Hell WITH TXT MANIACS’!’ screams the paper, before telling its reader how this new speak has already destroyed grammar and is now ruining relationships.
The Mail is right, of course, and David must crush his mobile phones like so much velvet if he and her Poshness are to stand any chance of making it.
The alluring curves of these phones, their come-hither screens and those buttons that yearn to be pressed are too much temptation for any man, let alone one who advertises them for a living.
Some, however, are made of sterner stuff, and among their number are Jon Wright and Becky Dale.
The Express says that when Jon attempted to contact a friend via text message to wish them a happy New Year, he misdialled the number and inadvertently sent his text to the aforesaid Miss Dale, hitherto a stranger to him.
It says something about Miss Dale’s state of mind and, dare it be said, the state of her social life that, even though she knew not from whom the message had come and despite the fact that it was New Year’s Eve, she still replied: ‘Happy Nu Year 2 U 2, But Who R U?’
Jon got back to her with a texted apology. She laughed it off in another text message. And before long the pair were in the throes of a romance.
Seven weeks after that first text, they met, and now 15 months later, and with thumbs throbbing from the rigours of love, Jon and Becky are united in matrimony.
‘All I know is that fate brought Becky and me together,’ says Jon in the Sun. ‘I’m so grateful that I misdialled that number.’
Which makes us wonder if it was a misdialled number that brought Becks into contact with Rebecca Loos and Sarah Marbeck?
Or figures of an altogether different kind?’
The Culling Fields
‘THAT Canada is a uniquely dull place is beyond doubt. But it has also spawned some of the most terrible things to walk the earth.
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| ‘That’ll teach you to balance footballs on your nose’ |
We think of Celine Dion, Dave ‘Kid’ Jensen and the thousands of backpackers who wear the Maple Leaf flag as they trot round the globe lest they be mistaken for American, found interesting and shot.
And we also think of baby seals, those scourges of the seven seas who steal our fish and bleed on our clean white snow as they have their heads caved in by brave men armed with large spiked metal sticks.
To those who have not met a seal, the annual seal cull, as witnessed by the Mirror, appears cold, heartless and the epitome of evil.
But we who have met seals and know them to be show-offs, who think nothing of clapping, blowing into horns and bouncing footballs on their heads, realise they must die.
And so the Mirror looks on as Canada begins a record cull of around 350,000 seals.
But not everyone is happy, and the US Humane Society has taken out full-page adverts in the American press urging travellers to boycott Canada.
This many are happy to do. So, although it goes against our better judgement, we are prepared to give seals one last chance to straighten out and will not be visiting Canada for our summer holidays this year or any other year.
And we urge you to do the same…’
Becks, Sex And Text
‘DAVID Beckham was yesterday awarded a trophy at the British Book Awards for the fastest selling biography in publishing history.
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| ‘Hands up who hasn’t slept with David Beckham!’ |
And he could well be in line for another literary award as it emerges this morning that the England captain was having text relationships with half of Madrid.
While Becks was tell the waiting Press that his wife ‘is the only girl in my life’, the Mirror lists four more women who it is claimed had secret trysts with him.
ONE-NIL! Rebecca Loos, the 26-year-old PA who is expected to spill more secrets at the weekend of her alleged affair with the Real Madrid No.23, claims he snogged supermodel Esther Canadas during a night out last year.
TWO-NIL! A redhead called Helia went on Spanish TV to claim that Becks had three sexual encounters with a short blonde girl in the toilets of Café Budha.
THREE-NIL! Madrid party girl Nuria Bermudez (nicknamed Muchas Tetas because of her ample curves) claims she had sex with him in his hotel room and received sexy texts from him.
FOUR-NIL! ‘David texted more than one girl,’ Nuria says. ‘I’m one of them and I know at least one more.’
In fact, this same Nuria (whose reputation, the Mirror says, puts a huge question mark against her claims) alleges that Becks has slept with nine women since he arrived in Spain.
We’re not sure whether his wife is included in that nine, but the Mail suggests that the midfielder’s diary was so full that he had to schedule more than one at a time.
‘Did Becks have 3-in-a-bed sex?’ asks the Mail, reporting on claims that will apparently surface at the weekend after Rebecca Loos sold her story for £350,000.
But the paper instantly cast doubt on the former PA’s reliability, branding her a sexual predator who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
One former friend tells the paper: ‘Rebecca wants to make herself out as a sweet girl who was used and abused by a selfish star, but I find it hard to imagine anyone more manipulative.
‘To put it bluntly, she is a slag.’
And Posh, according to the Star, is a slapper.
The paper that no longer supports British builders has a world exclusive, claiming that a furious Victoria slapped her husband across the face as the pair held crisis talks to save their marriage.
How do they know? Perhaps they read it in yesterday’s Mail…’
Sugar & Spice
‘WHATEVER you think of Victoria Beckham, there is no doubt that she is very much the victim of the piece, although you wouldn’t know that reading most of the coverage of her husband’s alleged infidelities.
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| Victoria Beckham gets one over on her twin sister |
Finally, however, a woman comes out in defence of La Posh – Sun showbiz editor Victoria Newton says she is ‘disgusted’ by what has been said about her namesake.
‘Her husband is alleged to have had an affair and somehow it’s Victoria’s fault,’ she says. ‘Excuse me but did I miss something there?’
Well, it appears that you might have missed yesterday’s edition of Anorak, which made exactly the same point – but we’ll let that pass.
‘The truth is,’ Ms Newton continues, ‘she’s a hard-working mum who puts her children first, for which we should salute her.
‘She represents all that is good about Britain – she’s hard working, caring and a good role model.’
Not so, says Amanda Platell in the Daily Mail, who admits that her first reaction to claims that Becks was having an affair was, ‘Who could blame the poor soul?’
‘If every woman in the country who felt even a shred of sympathy for Victoria gave a tenner,’ she claims, ‘there’s be just enough to buy a handbag from TopShop.’
And that is just a prelude to a diatribe of such unparalleled snobbery and nastiness that even Mail readers (raised on a daily diet of snobbery and nastiness) might be taken aback.
‘As a female role model, she is past parody,’ she concludes. ‘As a model of physical beauty, she is past plastic. Victoria is greedy, grafting and graceless.
‘Everything about her is fake – the tan, the breasts, the lips, the nails, the hair. The only real thing about Victoria Beckham is her ambition.
‘And that’s why women can’t stand her, and why we are all siding with David. That girl had it coming.’
And you, Amanda, have got it coming as well, we suspect.’
Loaded Question
‘NOT only did David Beckham pick up a prize at the British Book Awards yesterday, but he also had the honour of being named as Sportsman Of The Decade by readers of Loaded magazine.
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| Michelle Marsh looks to the future |
But Victoria will be less pleased to learn from this morning’s Star that her nemesis Jordan was also in the money, being voted Covergirl Of The Decade.
The busty model apparently beat off strong competition from Kylie Minogue, Kelly Brook and Christina Aguilera to win the prestigious award.
The award ceremony (apart from serving its normal purpose of garnering cheap publicity) was in recognition of the 10th birthday of the original lad’s mag.
It seems amazing that it was only a decade ago that someone had the idea that there were enough men with a mental age of 13 whose only interests in life were breasts, electronic gadgets and, er, breasts to support a magazine.
They were, of course, right – and wrong. Judging by the number of copycat mags – Maxim, FHM, Front, Ice, Zoo, Blah, Blah, Blah – that have sprung up since, there are even more infantile and sex-obsessed men than the founders of Loaded could have dared dream.
Will Loaded still be around in 10 years’ time? We don’t know – and care even less.
But wind the clocks forward to 2014 and we’re sure that the name on everyone’s lips will be the person voted Woman Of The Next Decade – topless model Michelle Marsh.’
Anyone For Dennis?
‘BAD news for EastEnders fans this week as its announced that at least some of the Ferreira family are staying.
In a desperate last-ditch attempt to raise any interest in them, producers are to do one of their classic Changing Rooms style makeovers on a character and turn Kareena into the Squares latest sex symbol.
And just like Changing Rooms, itll be cheap, tasteless and bound to end in tears. If Kareena and the whole Ferreira family suddenly became naturists its unlikely anyone would even notice.
The residents of Walford have failed to show any interest in the fact that the entire family are about to become homeless and that their father has been missing for months so how are viewers supposed to?
Even the fact that Tariq dated his sister failed to raise an eyebrow compared to the effigy-burning goings-on with Dennis and Sharon who arent even technically related.
It would be easy to suggest that the Albert Square residents dont care what they do because theyre Asian, but its actually because theyre so incredibly dull.
Only marginally more interesting, however, is the Dennis-Sharon-Den triangle that the writers keep plugging away at. As a viewer, its difficult to get worked up about Sharontella Versace and her idiot step-brother sleeping together especially as the original storyline was introduced about six months ago when Dirty Den first returned.
Den is trying to play the heavy father and has banned Dennis from contacting Sharon. You disgust me, hissed Den. Get back to wotever sewer you came from. Conveniently Den has forgotten of course that the sewer in question is actually his very own loins.
Dennis, being the mature, well-rounded adult that he is, has decided to get his own back by joining Andys (playground) gang.
Welcome to the family, Andy purred. Youre gonna fit right in. As Andy only seems to employ great useless hulks of wood, hes probably right.
Dennis first job is debt collection: Alfies fallen behind on his repayments on the loan he took out for Charlie.
Were not sure what tactics Dennis is going to employ, but knowing him, hell probably threaten to sleep with him unless he pays up.’
A Loos Woman
‘DESCRIBING Rebecca Loos as posher than Posh is a bit like describing sugar as sweeter than Sweetex.
But the papers are fast discovering that the fact that the 26-year-old daughter of a Dutch diplomat has a posh voice and went to a private school doesnt make her a shrinking violet.
In fact, the Sun this morning describes her as the Madrid temptress and a sleazy senorita after it emerged that, not only had she had sex with more than one person in her life, but she might even have enjoyed it.
Loos by name, loose by nature, it puns, adding that the more we learn about Rebecca Loos, the more it becomes clear that family man David Beckham was lured into a trap.
The other papers are happy to feed this line, with the Star claiming that Loos is a sex-mad party animal who loves to film her romps with men AND women.
There are fears, it adds, that Rebecca Loos may have a video of Becks and could reveal the dynamite evidence to back up her story.
But if the England football captain has indeed broken his wedding vows, it is of course not his fault.
She was very eye-catching, flirtatious, cunning and manipulative, a friend says.
Beckham wouldnt have been able to say no to her. Shes insatiable for sex, a fantastic looker and great to be with.
Of course. Faced with such a battery of talents, what chance did a mere mortal (and a male one at that) such as David Beckham have?
Indeed, as the male hacks salivate over the details of Rebecca Loos sex life while condemning her for having one, Beckham emerges with his Goldenballs untarnished.
Never mind claims in the Sun that the footballer swapped sexy text messages with a second girl, Becks is the victim in all this.
The victim of a selfish wife who wouldnt move to Madrid to be by his side and the victim of what the Mail calls a libidinous predator who set out to bring him down.
Who says we dont live in a male-dominated world?’
Stress Balls
‘IF tearfulness is one of 23 warning signs that you might be suffering from stress, then Victoria and David Beckham are certainly feeling the pressure at the moment.
The Mail says a ‘sobbing’ Posh slapped her husband across the face as the full extent of allegations about his cheating emerged.
And a deeply contrite Becks ‘tearfully’ insisted that he needs to stay in Madrid for the sake of his career and told his wife that she should spend more time in Spain.
But what of the other 23 signs? Forgetfulness? Certainly, there are no signs that Becks suffers from the same kind of memory problems as tennis player Pat Cash.
When asked whether he had slept with Rebecca Loos, the former Wimbledon champion wasn’t sure.
‘I’m 50% sure I did,’ the Aussie told the Sun. ‘I wish I could say it was me, but I just can’t remember.’
How about loss of appetite for food, fun and sex? Well, no problems regarding the latter for Becks, at least according to recent revelations.
But eating too much or too little? Posh does indeed look like a stick insect.
And a feeling that everything is pointless? There is no better description of Posh’s solo career.
Loss of interest in personal appearance? Okay, so maybe not…’
Massacre Of Innocents
‘NEWS that Saddam Hussein has been secretly moved out of Iraq can mean only one thing hes on his way to Britain along with another million or so dictators, neer-do-wells and asylum seekers.
No skills, no English…and theyre coming to care for our kids, warns the Star.
Thats right the paper has discovered secret plans by the Government to snatch children from their parents and hand them over to vicious baby-eating tyrants from Eastern Europe and beyond.
Under the scheme, immigrants will be paid hundreds of thousands of pounds of taxpayers money to sit in palatial luxury and be fed a constant diet of English infants.
Tony Blair, who yesterday held a summit to address concerns about the immigration system, blames newspapers for stirring up public fear.
How patronising, responds the Express.
Does he not think that people have minds of their own? it says. Can they not see what is happening on the street?
Does he not know that it is only a matter of time before it is Leo Blairs turn to feed a family of bloodthirsty Romanians?’
Nut Roast
”JAMIE COOKS UP NUT ROAST’ shrieks the Sun, and for a moment a delicious thought crosses our minds, only to be banished immediately as sheer wishful thinking.
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| Jamie wished he hadn’t slammed the oven door quite so hard |
But then the subheading makes us think again. ‘Naked Chef burns his meat and 2 veg,’ it sniggers, and our hearts race once more.
Yes, Jamie Oliver has experienced the kind of embarrassing injury that usually only afflicts men who interfere with vacuum cleaners.
And just as they always claim that their accident occurred while innocently ‘hoovering in the nude’, so Jamie has attempted to excuse himself by saying that he was simply living up to his billing as The Naked Chef.
‘It was on Valentine’s Day,’ explains the fat-tongued foodie. ‘I was naked and I burnt my penis. It really ruined my evening – and my night.’
The paper reveals that Jamie does all the cooking at home, but has hired a cleaner because he cannot bear tidying up.
So if – God forbid – he should ever report to A&E with any Hoover-related injury, it will be interesting to hear his explanation.’
Price War
”RUDE T-shirts and inflatable boobs and bums could soon be a thing of the past at Blackpool,’ reports the Sun, and goes on to explain that this is part of a plan to take the holiday resort upmarket.
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| Jordan was led away in handcuffs |
No such ban exists in Brighton, however. Katie Price, the pneumatic model formerly known as Jordan, is a Brighton girl, and can often be seen parading her rude T-shirts and inflatable breasts around the town.
Press photographer Steve Lawrence is aware of this fact, and was tipped off that Jordan would be out and about with her new squeeze Peter Andre, so he sat in a café and awaited his moment.
Steve owns a local photo agency, and is used to taking celebrity pictures, so he wasn’t expecting any trouble. It was a public place after all, and Jordan knows the score.
But Steve couldn’t have been more wrong. The Mirror’s 3am girls report that the buxom model came racing towards him screaming obscenities and then attacked his camera with such force that she smashed the £1,500 lens.
Her outburst continued until Peter led her away, and Steve reported the incident to the police, who confirmed that they are investigating a complaint.
Steve is no doubt pondering his options. We suggest he gets a new extra-strong lens – you can get some amazingly tough ones these days, as the by-line portrait of the 3am girls proves.
The girls love nothing more than to snigger at the physical shortcomings of the rest of the world, but on this evidence, they should take a good hard look at themselves.
Jessica resembles a Hallowe’en pumpkin, Eva looks like Frank Bruno in a Diddyman wig, and Caroline is obviously undergoing plastic surgery to impersonate Martin Johnson.
Ten years ago, no lens would have stood a chance with those terrifying masks.’
Cop That!
”STROP COP.’ That’s how the Mirror chooses to dub Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir John Stevens after his latest outburst.
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| ‘Anyone else want a piece of me?’ |
The 6ft 3ins copper is known to have what the paper coyly calls ‘a volatile temper’ and, when he returned from a terrorism briefing with the Home Secretary, he decided that the two armed officers guarding New Scotland Yard were standing too far from the entrance.
He regarded this as a severe security lapse and tore them off a strip in public.
This was too much for one bobby, who felt he had been unfairly criticised and turned away, only to be grabbed by Sir John for a further blast of the hairdryer.
An ‘insider’ says that the Commissioner denies he touched either of these officers, ‘but it is fair to say that they felt the rough side of his tongue’.
Sir John insists that he made no apology to the men, and believes he was right to tick them off. The men later said that they had been told that Sir John was under a lot of stress.
As presumably are the two hapless coppers themselves. Not to mention, trauma – although neither officer has gone sick, or retired early on full pension. Not yet, anyway.’
So Much To Loos
‘EXCLUSIVE to every paper this morning is the news of David Beckham’s alleged affair with his PA, Rebecca Loos.
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| ‘Your seven bedroom rambling mansion or mine?’ |
And each paper also takes the trouble to transcribe the entire transcripts of their interminable text conversations, complete with carefully counted asterisks, so that the true meaning can still be conveyed within the usual constraints of a family newspaper.
(I want to feel your c*** in my p**** etc. That’s ‘cash’ and ‘purse’, by the way.)
More interesting is what the papers don’t have in common – the little twists that set them apart.
The Star brings in its top football man Brian Woolnough to offer some advice.
First, he points out that ‘if the most famous couple in the world can ride this latest crisis, then Posh and Becks have to be together’.
Then he takes the opportunity to suggest that this might be achieved by Becks returning to England and playing for Chelsea – a story that certain journalists have been banging away at for weeks, without any evidence to back it up.
And finally, donning his pundit hat, big Brian says that it is important that this business doesn’t affect Becks’ form for Euro 2004.
This competition, he reminds us, is ‘our best chance of glory since the 1966 World Cup’.
And unless the FA acquire a time machine and keep sending the team back to Japan 2002 until they win the damn thing, he’s probably right.
The Mail are unable to find an immigration angle to the Becks affair, so they do the next best thing.
Above the story on the front page is a huge banner advertising the latest immigrant scandal covered within, and they concentrate instead upon other important angle of the Spanish crisis.
Can you guess what it is? Yes, that’s right:
‘Born into one of one of Madrid’s most eminent families, Rebecca Loos possesses an intrinsic upper-class confidence that ‘Posh’ Spice Victoria Beckham can only dream of.
‘The daughter of Dutch diplomat Leendert Willem Alberto Loos Bartholdi and his English wife Elizabeth, she still lives with her parents in a rambling seven-bedroom mansion in one of the Spanish capital’s most exclusive suburbs…”
Zero Tolerance
‘IT’S groundhog day again. ‘NANNY STATE CISSIES 1, JUNIOR FOOTIE STARS 0’ says the Star.
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| Scots celebrate another 0-0 win |
Wasn’t that last week? Didn’t someone say that junior games won by more that 14-0 shouldn’t be reported in the local paper?
Yes they did. But this is different. Now the score won’t be hushed up – it will be altered during the match to even things up.
To spare kids the trauma of losing by getting rid of trophies for winners, and setting the score back to 0-0 in matches where one side is more than 5-0 up.
The initiative comes from Scotland and represents an open goal for English satirists, but to be fair (as we say in football circles) even the Scottish Schools Football Association is aghast at the idea.
‘This is not reality,’ said SSFA president Alan Smith.
Wake up, Alan, it’s the future and you know it.’
Lurpak Your Bags
‘HOLD the front page!
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| There were fears that Douglas was getting too big for his boots |
Oh, all right then, hold Page 14. The Express reports two major developments in the wonderful world of advertising.
First up, Vinnie Jones is to be axed as the £250,000-a-year face of Bacardi rum. This is thought to be connected with his recent conviction for a drunken ‘air rage’ assault.
Vinnie’s story is squeezed into a corner to make room for the main news: the axing of a much bigger advertising star – Douglas.
What do you mean, you’ve never heard of him? Of course you know him, he’s been the face of Lurpak for twenty years. Literally the face of Lurpak, because his whole body is made of the stuff.
He’s the butter man who looks a bit like Wallace from Wallace and Grommet, except he wears evening dress instead of an old cardigan. Oh, and he plays a trombone.
Well, the Express remembers him, and they describe him as ‘one of TV’s most recognisable characters’. And if you saw him in the street, he probably would stand out from the crowd.
Anyway, the company feels that ‘the time is right for a fresh, creative approach that reflects the innovations that have taken place with Lurpak’.
So they’re getting in a bunch of nude women to ‘go skinny-dipping in a lake’.
Douglas is to be melted down and fed to asylum seekers.’
Fools’ Gold
‘YOU’VE got to hand it to the Daily Mail – their writers are terrific wags.
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| April Fool! She’s still dead really! |
‘Was it a royal joke? You bet!’ they reveal on page 31.
‘It was the question royal-watchers everywhere were asking yesterday,’ the paper continues.
But what is the joke of which they speak? Surely not the tale of Wills and the ‘very middle-class beauty’ that is featured so prominently at the front of the paper?
No, of course not. They are talking about their own rib-tickling April Fool article, in which a Queen look-alike popped into the bookies for a flutter on the Grand National.
So convincing was this elaborate hoax that ‘many of her loyal subjects’ failed to spot it for the chucklesome diversion that it was.
‘But others worked out that the name of the servant – Sir High Grenoble [stop it, you’re killing us!] – might be related to St Hugh of Grenoble, patron saint of All Fools.
‘And some spotted that Mr Otto Breeching [nurse, the screens!] – the Austrian tourist who allegedly snapped the Queen at William Hill’s in Windsor – is an anagram of ‘bet on the corgi’.’
And some readers, of course, will have noticed that if you cut up all the words in the article and rearrange them, they explain how there is an immigration time bomb that is threatening to blow the entire British property market to pieces, leaving millions of taxpayers in negative equity.
Although other readers will of course have realised that the same effect could be achieved by leaving all the other articles exactly as they were.’
Give Him Enough Grope
”I HAVE done things which I thought were playful but now I recognise I have offended people,’ Arnold Schwarzenegger admitted some months ago.
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| ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the Governor of California’ |
No, he’s not referring to Twins. Or even Kindergarten Cop. He speaks of course of his Groping Shame – a series of revelations by women who have experienced the Governor of California’s style of hands-on government.
The Star reminds us that Arnie pulled ‘busty telly interviewer Anna Richardson’ onto his knee and said: ‘I really want to know if your breasts are real.’
Now the 56-year-old Lothario has ‘taken lessons in how to avoid groping women’, and the paper says that he volunteered for the two-hour optional course.
That’s the one where participants are familiarised with all the different forms of lewd behaviour from the suggestive comment to breast-fondling to the old hand on the thigh trick.
They are then encouraged to perform them in order that they can recognise groping behaviour wherever it occurs, and thus avoid it in the future.
If this is not fully successful in altering behaviour, a longer course is then available.’
Taking Offence
‘SHEFFIELD Wednesday Football Club has cancelled an appearance by veteran comedian Bernard Manning after several fans had complained that his act was offensive.
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| To vote for Bernard Manning as Greatest Briton, phone 0868 9796501 |
This news comes courtesy of the Express, which also reveals that, while doing his National Service, Manning was at Spandau prison, guarding top Nazi war criminals like Rudolf Hess and Albert Speer.
Manning likes to tell audiences of how his own father died in a concentration camp (falling out of a machine-gun tower) and many of his ‘blue stories’ concern the dark days of the Third Reich and his hatred of the Germans.
But he was never allowed to talk to the prisoners.
No doubt there were fears that they would find him offensive.’
Dirty Dennis
‘DEN came back to Walford this week, complete with a new coat of wood-stain varnish, after three months in Spain. And in typical soap style, he reappeared from the back of a black cab clutching a tiny empty holdall. Well, wigs dont take up much room, do they?
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| Piggy in the middle |
Pauline happened to be lurking down a back alley (times must be hard in the Fowler household) as Den arrived and she took great pleasure in filling him in on what his children had been up to in his absence.
Your clubs burnt down, Vickys living with me and your daughters shacked up with your son. Welcome home Den, she smirked. Den confronted his son in The Vic (where else?). Youre disgustin he spat. How long is it going to be before you move on to Vicky?
Dennis decided to sort out his issues with his father the EastEnders way by smacking him in the face. Unfortunately for him, however, Sharons big fat pig face was in the way and she took a right hook on the snout.
Youre history, hissed Den to his mini-me son, as he ushered both his daughters out of the pub. But Dennis isnt one to take things lying down (unless theres a woman involved) and hes set to join forces with Andy, thus forming the most ineffectual pretty-boy EastEnd gang in history. Well, since E17 split up.
The most menacing thing Andy has done is to get a bit cross with Alfie for being twenty quid short with his repayments. I want double by tomorrow, he told Alfie, or else. Or else what? Hell give him a Chinese burn?
The campaign to rid the Square of the Ferreiras is growing apace. Now even the banks are in on it. The dullest family in the world received a letter from their bank stating that they were £12,000 in mortgage arrears.
Im really sorry to do this to you, lied the bank manager, but if you cant pay in six weeks then well have to evict you. Is there such a thing as a reverse telethon?’
Triumph Of Wills
‘ALL papers like to run a hoax story on April Fools day, but the usual form is to slip it inconspicuously into one of the news pages.
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| ‘Hi, my name’s Wills. I’m a groovy kind of polo-playing kind of guy…’ |
Not the Sun, however. With typical audacity, theirs is plastered over the front page, with more on pages 2,3,4 and 5.
FINALLY… Wills gets a girl, it trumpets and, sure enough, theres a picture of the dashing young prince in the company of a genuine 100-per-cent anatomically-correct female human being.
Of course, it could all be faked with computers, so theyve even gone to the trouble of getting Sun Royal Photographer Arthur Edwards to pen a few words in order to lend an air of authenticity.
When I photographed Prince William on the slopes of Klosters, I knew there was something unusual about him, teases the veteran smudger. We now know why.
Yes, thats right – weve got a heterosexual heir to the throne, and the future of the House of Windsor is safe.
And even if none of it is true, its a dream that we can all enjoy on a lovely spring morning.’
Bubble Rap
‘THERES nothing dodgy about this story its in more than one paper but the bosses at Nestlé will be wishing that it were an April Fool.
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| Shit In A Box |
CHOCK EM ALL AWAY says the Star, reporting on a mishap at the Aero factory.
A worker at the factory apparently tampered with the printing machine used to stamp the wrappers.
And just as 20 pallets piled high with Aeros were about to leave the factory someone noticed the problem.
Nestlé officials confirmed that a misprint had indeed been spotted, and the paper reveals that the words SH*T BAR had been inserted into the best before panel.
It should of course have read SHIT BAR. All mislabelled bars have now been recalled.’
Only Obeying Orders
‘WHEN West Germany beat the legendary Mighty Magyars of Hungary in the 1954 World Cup final in Switzerland, it was one of the greatest football upsets of all time.
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| ‘Take that, Fritz’ |
But now it has been claimed that the victory was achieved with the help of amphetamines given to the players before the game.
The revelation comes courtesy of Walter Broennimann, a former cleaner at Bernes Wankdor Stadium (thats not an April Fool, by the way).
He says that he found suspicious capsules washed down a drain in the showers, but when he handed them in he was sworn to secrecy.
The team doctor claims that they received nothing more than Vitamin C jabs, but Sebastien Dehnhardt, co-author of a book which covers the affair, is convinced that they were doped.
And he has an interesting explanation.
They were soldiers, and soldiers obey orders, he says. Ah yes.’
The Duel In The ‘Pool
‘ANOTHER day, another chapter in the Rooney-McCloughlin feud.
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| Mr McCloughlin wins in Round 8 |
Today, young Wayne reflects, via the pages of the Daily Star, upon his heartbreak as he watched his ‘beautiful’ fiancée Colleen in tears at the day that was supposed to be perfect.
(By the way, the word ‘beautiful’ is in inverted commas in the paper itself – and we can’t help wondering whether this indicates Wayne’s own comments, or something more sarcastic on the part of the Star.)
Anyway, talking of Wayne’s own words, the lad seems to have blossomed from being a monosyllabic wallflower into a man who speaks fluent tabloidese.
‘I was so heartbroken that I cried,’ he said. ‘Now faceless people are feeding speculation that the family are at war.’
And here, right on cue, comes the Sun, shouting at the top of its voice like a drunken party guest.
‘I’LL HAVE ROO!’ it yells. ‘Wayne dad ends feud with boxing bout.’
It transpires that Wayne and Colleen’s fathers (both former boxers) will don their XXL trunks and knock seven shades of ordure out of each other at the Everton Park Sports Centre next month.
But just in case you thought that this was just an excuse to stir things up, the paper insists that the whole thing is simply a local tradition that lives on from an age of self-discipline and dignity.
‘Both families are from Liverpool, where it is traditional to settle disputes with a punch-up,’ explains Showbiz Reporter Martel Maxwell.
A ‘pal’ is quoted as saying that no weapons are used, and when the fight is finished the feud is never spoken of again.
‘They are doing this so the two families are not still at each other’s throats at their wedding later this year.’
He points out that both men know what they’re doing, ‘but it won’t be pretty’.’
