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.
Brought To Book
‘VERY personal, very unpleasant, very damaging. Not, as you may suppose, a description of Princess Dianas odious little butler, but of a tape that his late mistress told him could destroy the monarchy.
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| A picture of betrayal |
As Paul Burrells memoirs of life inside Kensington Palace went on sale yesterday, the man himself embarked on a whirlwind tour of the TV and radio studios to promote the book.
And he told Channel 4s Richard & Judy show that Diana made a tape in 1996 of disclosures made by ex-royal servant George Smith, in which he claims he was raped by a royal aide and also witnessed a sex act involving a member of the Royal Family.
The Mirror quotes Smith as saying that making public the contents of the tape would have terrible consequences.
The whereabouts of the recording (which used to be stored in Princess Dianas mahogany box) is unknown it mysteriously disappeared after her death in August 1997.
But Burrell claims he knows what is on the tape, even if he is refusing to reveal it for now.
No wonder the Sun says the 44-year-old Judas fears that hell be killed to stop him revealing any more secrets.
And if Prince William had his way, he would probably administer the coup de grace but there is some confusion in the papers as to whether he will get his chance.
The Sun says the Queen is right behind Princess Dianas oldest son, who made an outspoken attack on Burrell at the end of last week, and has given her blessing to a face-to-face meeting with him in a bid to stop further revelations.
But the Star says Her Madge has stepped in to block any meeting with the royal blabbermouth, who said he wanted to give the 21-year-old prince a piece of his mind.
He might have got a piece of the Princes fist in return and no-one would have cared too much, least of all the Queen.
The Express says that she is furious that the book, called (with bitter irony) A Royal Duty, contains an implicit endorsement from Buckingham Palace.
The back-sleeve of the 396-page book features an alleged remark by the Queen to Burrell, which says: No one has been closer to my family that you have.
A senior royal source tells the paper: This is outrageous. It just adds insult to injury. It makes it appear as though Her Majesty has given the book her approval.
Nothing can be further from the truth.
Apart perhaps from Burrells claim that he wrote his tawdry little book as a tribute to his late mistress.’
Minder’s Keepers
‘THE most intimate and sensitive secrets will go with me to the grave, promises Paul Burrell in this mornings Mirror.
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| Is she really a German? |
But before Burrell is buried on an island in the middle of a duck pond, hes happy to tell the world about The Last Secret. And, boy, is it ever a big one!
According to no less an authority than the front page of the Mirror, this secret is so big that, in one her many letters to her right-hand man, Diana underlined its shock value by remarking: What a secret!
Now hes got your interest, Burrell chooses not to reveal what it is, but he does say how another of the Princesss many letters mentions their mutual excitement at it.
But with Diana dead and traitor Burrell (Express) eyeing Westminster Cathedral, Viscounts Spencers speechwriter and an Elton John lookalike for his requiem, soon only the Queen will know all.
Only myself, the Queen, and the princess truly know what I am the keeper of, and despite writing this book I remain the keeper of.
Of course, he might just be looking after the secrets – as he looked after those Versace dresses – and not keeping them or, indeed, anything at all.
Apart from the cash from telling his story, that is…’
Joy Division
‘TRICK or Treat? Think carefully about that question, because a wrong answer could result in your hair being set alight by a burning firework.
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| ‘It’s ein fair cop, guv’ |
But fear ye not, the police are on their way, and theyve had enough of such antics. The Chief Constable of Merseyside, Norman Bettison, wants a total ban on the sale of all fireworks.
The Mail hears his call and lists the reports of rockets being fired at planes taking off and landing at Liverpools John Lennon airport, cars and phone boxes being blown up by Roman Candles, and that burning hair, as proof that fireworks are a danger to the public.
It is time to get tough, says the top cop in the area. Orders must be obeyed. Criminals vill not be tolerated. You vill do as ve kommand or you vill pay!
Ooops! Sorry, weve slipped a foreign accent into our nice old copper, who is surely British to his core. But youll have to forgive us since that accent is based on another police story in todays Sun.
Therein we learn that Scotland Yard are investigating revelations that Detective Constable Linda Daniels has a home full of Nazi memorabilia, including a life-sized mannequin of a German storm-trooper.
This is, of course, nothing beyond the ordinary in police circles – its just that Daniels, who is married to a Nazi fan, is attached to a unit which investigates race crimes.
Keith Baumont is an honorary member of the SS veterans society. Whats more, he and Daniels have an Alsatian dog named Blondi, after Hitlers mutt of the same breed, and believe that the Holocaust was exaggerated.
He is party to secrets that Paul Burrell must envy, such as how the Auschwitz gas ovens were installed by Russians to make the misunderstood Germans look bad and Belsen prisoners were not in fact starved, but pioneers of the Atkins diet.
Daniels is saying nothing, but she is pacing up an down in an interesting manner while her fellow coppers consider whether it would best if she were transferred to other duties, or given some kind of iron medal…’
Good Grief
‘ANYONE who has seen that TV advert where a bunch of fat lads run around a football pitch knows that the Lottery helps good causes all the time.
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| The field trip to Albania took an unexpected twist when all the childen in the school lorry suddenly died |
The Express reminds us of other good works: the £500,0000 trials to give free heroin to drug addicts, and the £420,000 donated to help farmers in Peru rear fatter guineas pigs for their tea.
All worthwhile and valid causes, were sure you will agree. And it hasnt stopped there, as the Express mentions the £219,000 grant being spent on teaching school children what its like to be an asylum seeker.
For the cash, pupils get to be arrested and have their fingerprints taken.
And thats only for the ones whove survived being locked in the back of mums Renault Espace for three weeks.
How many perish during such exercises, are duped into prostitution or are forced to sell a limb is not revealed, but its something that must stop.
Its beyond belief, says Ann Widdecombe – and Nick Seaton, chairman of the Campaign for Real Education, says that pupils should be spending the time learning English, history and maths.
Or citizenship studies, as they are now known…’
The Kennel Club
‘THE Princess Diana whodunit is turning into something of a whodunher this morning as the Sun reveals that she had nine men on the go at one time.
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| The shocking truth about Diana’s Number 1 |
According to Paul Burrell, nine suitors were in active pursuit of his boss after her divorce from Charles. (How many were after her during her marriage or indeed caught her is something of a moot point).
In an interview for American TV, the florist said that Diana ran her men like a kennel.
She controlled the position of her gentlemen friends, says Burrell. We called it the trap system as if the men were competitors on a racetrack.
And the dog in trap one, hugging Dianas inside bend, was her favourite man, who maintained his position amid some frenzied competition.
But who was, or is, he? The Mirror chooses to illustrate the story by way of silhouettes of the nine runners or riders.
And we wonder if there are clues in these black shapes? For instance, number one, The Favourite (lets call him Harrys Flyer), has hair in the same shape as James Hewitt.
And the The Sporting Legend, who occupies trap number three (and lets call him Bum Face Boy), could just be Englands former rugby captain Will Carling.
Of course, the Mirror might be having a laugh at our expense, using these shadowy figures to throw us off the hares scent and saving the announcement of the true identities for the weeks to come.
Or it could just be that the The Leading Musician is Elton Pocket Rocket Man John.
At least The Famous Politician (Jeffrey Shepherds Lie Archer) will tell us the truth.’
Tummy Trouble
‘IF Ulrika Jonsson turned her men into a race of some sort, it would dwarf the London Marathon and be second only to the Olympic Games in terms of the numbers involved.
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| Ulrika poses with this year’s winner of the Ulrika Jonsson Celebrity Stakes |
But before Ulrika hires a stadium for such a contest, the Mail asks a question of the Swedish former weather girl: Is she having another baby?
Last night Ulrika was at some shindig called the Pantene Hair And Beauty Awards, where she wore a dress that showed her protruding stomach.
Further evidence of impending motherhood is supplied by an unnamed onlooker, who describes Ulrika as looking radiant and more womanly than normal.
The latter point could be attributed less to her enlarged guts than to her pushed-up breasts, which seem to be serving as a resting place for her complimentary coffee before she has her hair washed by the lovely Stephanie.
Thankfully, Ulrika is not saying, only talking to her husband Lance about whatever it is you talk to someone called Lance about – perhaps hair and the weather.’
Not The Bee’s Knees
‘WHILE women dash out to have Ulrika implants sewn inside their stomachs (just as they had Jennifer Lopez buttock replacement therapy to make them look like a Renault Megane in trousers), they should consider Demi Moore.
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| Demi plans to turn her old knees into novelty ashtrays |
After the Mails chatter about Ulrika, the paper turns its attention to the Hollywood actress and most particularly her knees.
Nora Batty once told Compo that her tights were not sagging, just her legs – and the Mail zooms in on Demis pins and sees a certain amount of skin ride.
The verdict is that having spent a fortune on cosmetic surgery to make her body as taught as a snare drum, Demi foolishly forgot to see to her knees.
The paper uses words like sagging, floppy and drooping to describe the offending articles, which, like Cliff Richards neck, give away the owners true age.
The remedy is not all that simple indeed, it will require immediate and perhaps even painful surgery, especially for the knee donor, a small Albanian boy called Wayne.
Well, he says he always dreamed of going to America…’
Tumbling Tots
‘ANY mother knows that raising a child is very much like rearing a dog.
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| Free child with every Big Mac and regular cola |
And readers of the Mail today learn that the similarities extend beyond obedience training and making them live in a kennel at the end of the garden.
Just as pet owners grow fed-up with that mutt they got for Christmas and take it for a drive to see its new home on the hard shoulder of the M62, parents will soon be throwing their kids out of the car at the countrys first drive-thru nursery.
David Carol, Director of Paint Pots nursery (which will open in Stockport early next year), reminds parents that they will first have to register.
After the paperworks been done, and little Jakes had his ear tagged with an electronic chip, mum and dad can slow their people carrier to a sedate 30pmh and throw the fruit of their loins out with the command Play!.
Unsurprisingly, the Express hears that many busy parents have already signed up.
Even less of a surprise is the news that the place has been criticised by some child experts, like Lesley Abbott, who labours under the title of Professor of Early Years Education at Manchester Metropolitan University.
Its an awful idea, says the expert. The relationship between the carer and the parent is very important.
A drive-through nursery is a retrograde step for early years childcare and it shows that parents are putting their needs before the childs needs.
She has a point, but Lesley should worry less about bonding sessions between carer and parent and note that the kids will be just fine.
All children registered will be given a free video of Lee Majors Stunt Master Class, which will teach them the correct way to tumble from a moving vehicle.’
Green, Green Grass Of Home
‘SINCE we are moving ever closer to America, it’s high time we adopted that favoured Yankee cheer, ‘We’re number one!’.
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| Just say no |
So pom-poms all round today as the Mail breaks the terrific news that we are number one – in smoking cannabis.
Come on, you can all do better than that. What d’yer mean you can’t be bothered and we’re freaking you out? This is news that needs to be celebrated with more than a bag of munchies.
The European Monitoring Centre for Drugs And Drugs Addiction has found that almost one in five 15 to 34-year-olds have taken cannabis in the past year.
Impressive – but we can do better. And the Mail says that, although we are taking more ecstasy, cocaine and amphetamines than ever, we still lag behind some of our European kin.
Spain has the highest level of cocaine abuse, with 4.6 of the target demographic taking the stuff in the past 12 months.
And if you want to dance with your hands seemingly glued to your sides all weekend long, you should skip along to Ireland, where the locals take more E and speed per head that anywhere else in the EU.
But back to issues domestic, and the refreshing news for all those who bemoan the rise of drug culture, as alcohol is still the number one way for youngsters to get out their minds.
In second place in this narcotics league table is cannabis, while in third and rising fast is glue sniffing.
Figures for other drugs are available on application – if anyone can be bothered to find out.’
A Hard Luck Story
‘OUR national tendency to seek escape from everyday life through drugs and drink might just be explained by our native spirit of discovery.
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| Take one day, preferably before class |
With few places left in which to stick a flag, and fewer people left to put in a suit and taken tiffin with, Brits take drugs to travel to somewhere new, to experience something different.
With our application for the Liberal partys drugs tsar now stated in high-inducing indelible ink, we move on to the Stars drugs news.
Today the Star reports on the six children who were caught taking Viagra at school.
The boys, aged between 12 and 13, took the pills after one of their number raided his dads medicine cabinet.
That dealer has now been excluded from Forest School in Winnersh, Bucks, for actions which placed other pupils at risk.
The Sun puns about the lad having learnt a hard lesson, labouring its earlier point about the stiff lesson – but what of the crime?
In what ways were the other pupils at risk? Would the caper, as most teachers warn, have taken someones eye out?
Surely not – this was, after all, an all-boys school.’
Tunnel Vision
‘THE police have yet to locate the driver of that battered white Fiat Uno that was spotted near to the tunnel where the car carrying Princess Diana crashed.
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| ‘And you can’t even get a decent pint in Paris’ |
Perhaps they will start looking again once they hear our exclusive rumour that said vehicle was being driven by a Pakistani man with dreadlocks, aided by a blonde white woman in the passenger seat.
Judging by last nights TV expose of life in a police training college, thats the kind of information sure to reopen the Di file and lead to a quick arrest.
But private detectives are ahead of the game. The first is Patricia Cornwell, the Expresss high priestess of crime, who has conducted a six-month forensic dissection of the case.
She has been in France to examine the cars skid marks, which she reveals to be the more exotic yaw marks made by an over-correction of the steering at high speed.
She also claims to have gone into the toxicology report on Henri Paul [driver of yawing car] with a laser beam.
What Cornwells literary heroine, Kate Scarpetta, would make of it is a question that needs answering in a three-part TV drama and book.
We cant help but consider it to be a shame that Inspector Morse is dead. He would have got to the root of it, would old Morsey.
But we are distracted from our audience with Cornwell by a man in a flak jacket and beret, scampering along the Alma tunnel in Paris.
We have no idea what former SAS solider-turned-writer Andy McNab looks like, but we bet thats him.
Trained in assassination techniques by his country, McNab has done a recce of the crash scene and now reveals his opinion to the Sun.
There were easier ways to kill Diana and make it look like an accident, he says.
And John Stalker, one page on, agrees. The former Deputy Chief Constable of Manchester police says he has driven along the tunnel, and when his car hit 60mph – Dianas chauffeur was, apparently, driving at around twice that speed I found negotiating the tunnel difficult.
Although not fatal. Which is interesting, in a way. Isnt it? Certainly worthy of a book ’
Paying Gest
‘DAVID Gest once claimed that if anyone so much as harmed a hair on his wife’s upper lip, mole or head, he’d swing for them.
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| ‘Smile, David, or you’ll get what’s coming to you’ |
The wife in question, as if you need reminding, was Liza Minnelli, a title she will proudly hold until the couple’s divorce is finalised in days to come.
But the twist in this modern romance is not that somebody hurt Liza but that, as papers filed by Gest claim, she beat up him in drunken rages.
The Sun has seen the divorce papers, filed in New York, and notes for our benefit the allegations that attacks by 5ft 4in Liza left David in so much pain he needed 11 different painkillers to dull the agony.
He did, though, not need stitches – a relief to any of us who have seen and envied the man’s pure candle-like complexion.
But the hidden scars run deep, and now he wants out of the 16-month marriage.
Anyone familiar with Gest will have some sympathy for Liza, and read his claims with a nodding head and a soft sigh.
For instance, when we hear Gest say that after the couple’s honeymoon he woke to find his wife drinking a bottle of vodka, we understand what pain she must have been in.
The is no word for her condition, although we suggest Gestitis – ‘the painful recognition that you have married an odd little being with glasses’.
But David is suffering – from ‘insomnia, vertigo, scalp tenderness, nausea, hypertension, mood dysphoria, photosensitivity and phonophobia’.
And for that lot he wants £6m by way of a panacea.
His claim is currently being investigated by PD James, who has said she will pass on her findings to Cagney & Lacy in the local police department.’
Slice Of Life
‘JO thinks peace in Northern Ireland is long overdue. We all want to see the Good Friday agreement back on track, says the 24-year-old from London.
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| There’s no place for fried eggs on Page 3 |
It just goes to show that talking provides a far better solution to a problem than mindless violence.
Amen to that.
If only Jo had been on hand the morning after David Gest married Liza Minelli, their love would now be blossoming and his phonophobia would not be so acute.
But the Suns News in Briefs topless stunner is not available to save the world just yet, only bits of it. And the rest of us are invited to wait our turn.
And while we do so, why not enjoy a nice cup of tea? The Stars Danni has a mug of char for us and, by way of added seduction, is pictured carrying a food plate on which sits a pile of baked beans, some bread (white, sliced) and a sausage.
She is also topless, which is not only dangerous at a time of year when cold chills hang in the air, but will most likely lead to the kind of trouble only Jo can solve.
Doesnt she know the adage that a man goes to work on an egg?’
Phil Her Up
‘ITS a safe bet that if Prince Philip did bump off his daughter-in-law, he didnt employ an Indian to rewire the electrics on her car.
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| ‘I’ll kill her, you eat her. OK?’ |
What he did do or so the Sun reports on its cover page – was instil a sense of fear in Princess Diana and make her believe that he has masterminding a plot to kill her.
This was, as the paper screams to the world, DIS AGONY, a pain which has now been brought into the public sphere by Dianas former confidant and butler Paul Burrell.
Such news might well tickle the Queen, but its not gone down too well with Dianas children, Harry and William, who are, according to the Express, devastated by the butlers antics.
Harry and William are too busy having fun just now to make any comment at all, so Royal biographer Penny Junor steps gamely into the frame and offers her opinion.
Can you imagine how upsetting this will be, particularly coming from a man whom they once thought of as a friend? asks Penny.
Perhaps, but no more upsetting than some of the previous comments made by one Mohamed al Fayed, shopkeeper and father of Dianas last boyfriend, Dodi.
I am only asking for the answers that any devoted father would want of his sons murder, says the man in the interesting shirts.
Blair must accept the time is right for a public inquiry. Delay will look as if he is colluding in a cover-up.
Until that inquiry, the only cover-up we can cite with any degree of certainty is the one in todays Mail, where Paul Burrell is overseeing the dressing of Dianas corpse.
For the record, as Diana lay dying, she wore a black, three-quarter-length dress with high hemline and black shoes.
Having dropped off his choice of outfit, along with an apt lipstick and a powder compact, Burrell returned to her hospital bed to see that her hair had been beautifully blow-dried and in her hand she had Mother Theresas ivory rosary beads.
Its am image that will bring solace to her legion of fans, and those devastated boys, and remind us that even in death you should endeavour to maintain standards and look your best.
A new range of Diana Funeral Attire is available at Harvey Nichols and, via mail-order, through Anorak.’
Old Smoky
‘PURVEYORS of the finest mackerel and kippers have long championed the benefits of smoking.
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| Add ten parts gin to one part water |
Others, and one thinks of Roy Castle, Bill Clinton and successive health ministers, have not.
But today’s news is heartening for those among us who would prefer to smoke freely wherever we choose.
The Mail has it that the world’s oldest man, Cambodian Sek Yi, lived to be 122 years old because he liked a good toke on the noxious weed.
Sadly, Yi is no longer with us, having recently crumbled into a pile of ash and smouldering embers, but his healthy smoking plan is ready to set the world alight.
In an interview her gave a few days before he burnt out, the man tells us how he took up smoking to be more manly. And, as any 14-year-old with a pack of ten Silk Cut knows, it works.
Yi also prayed a lot and hunted tigers.
The prayer thing is of interest, and suggests that the pious – and one thinks of Tony Blair, who has been closer than ever to his maker of late – will live long.
But for the full benefits, the supplicant must smoke – if the hands raised up to the heavens should hold a lit fag, so much the better.
And then there are those tigers. Such beasts are notoriously difficult to come by, but it’s encouraging to note that you do not actually have to catch them, just hunt them.
Next week we will spotlight the world’s oldest woman, who remained alive in a large house off London’s Mall, courtesy of a pickling process involving ten parts gin to one part water.
She hunted on horseback.’
Goody’s Goodies
‘A COUNTRY gets the politicians it deserves and likewise with its pop idols.
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| Jade tries to count her boobs |
So while the Star reports on the antics of Girls Alout singer Cheryl Tweedy, we cannot help but feel that she reflects none too well on all of us.
Wasnt it us who voted for her to be a star? Wasnt it us who put her on a pedestal?
Of course, this is utter nonsense and none of it has anything to do with any of us. Honest, mlud.
If it did, how could we look ourselves in the mirror each morning and know that Jade Goody is out there, at large – albeit not as large as she used to be.
That is the news in the Sun, where Big Brothers Miss Piggy has slimmed down from a size 16 to a more modest size 12.
If thats hard to envisage, her interview with a celebrity magazine conjures up something that should stain the memory for eons.
I have a lot more energy and feel more confident, says Jade.
Before I got fit my nan used to say I had two sets of boobs. My tummy was also loose, which I felt was unattractive. But now my bottom is more rounded – and easy to grab.
Not that anyone should ever try.’
Palpitation, Palpitation, Palpitation
‘THOSE that think Tony Blair wears his heart on his sleeve must prepare yourselves for some shocking news. Its a lie!
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| Close your door on the way out, Tony |
The actual Blair heart lies in his chest, although yesterday it did try to jump free.
HEART DRAMA: IS THIS THE END OF BLAIR? asks the cover of the Express, a question echoed verbatim in the Star.
The story is that the Prime Minster yesterday underwent treatment for an irregular heartbeat.
This prompts the Express to employ all its years of medical training and conclude that palpitations or irregularities in heartbeat suggest that something is wrong.
Please write in and correct us if we are jumping to any conclusions, but that something might be to do with the PMs heart.
But why should our leader be stricken so? By way of an answer, the Mail says that the roots of Blairs five-hour hospital ordeal are founded in stress, working too hard, lack of sleep or even drinking too much coffee.
To say nothing of the love he has for all mankind and his drive for a third term of office and, who knows, a fifth child.
With so much love to give, its far from surprising that the heart is busting at the seams.
But what if Tony were to croak, and – in the hiatus between his death and his rising again – a new leader were needed?
Helpfully, John Prescott, as the Sun reminds us, is ready to stand in.
There would then be a leadership election within the Labour party, which would most likely be won by Gordon Brown, a man who looks like hes gasping for air already, or a messianic Tony Blair.’
Di Another Day
‘ALL this talk of hearts can only being back painful memories of Princess Diana, the Queen of such organs.
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| Paul Burrell models another Diana original |
Today the Mirror celebrates the life and, most notably, the death of our former Lady Of The Immaculate Shopping Bag by a headline that is bound to shock and amaze: Theyre planning an accident in my car so Charles can marry again.
Those words were, apparently, written by the now departed wind-blown candle on a note given to Paul Burrell for safe keeping 10 months before her death.
Now you can read the missive that WILL STUN THE WORLD.
The note gets more explicit one page on (the Mirror dedicates nine to its dissection), where the letter specifies brake failure and serious head injury as the ways to a happy ending for Chas and his girlfriend.
But why did Diana give it to Burrell, whose place was already awash with her old dresses and knick-knacks?
Helpfully, the man himself gives an answer, saying how she ordered him to keep it as insurance.
And the policy matured very nicely the day Diana died. And you can read all about it in Burrells new policy document, entitled A Royal Duty the book of the century.
The tome also has Diana longing to hug her mother-in-law, and saying that part of me [Di] will always love Charles.
Other gems include: Buy this book or my soul will wander in limbo for eternity; Never wear brown in town; and Harvey Nichols is now open on Sundays.’
Trick Or Treat
‘HALLOWEEN is a great time for nasties and undesirables. Its a night when youthful types cover their faces with acne and ring on doorbells, demanding sweets, cash and video recorders with menaces.
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| ‘Let’s take it to a field and set it on fire’ |
But in Merseysides Knowsley ward things will be quieter this October 31st if the council gets its way and sends 50 troublemakers out of the area to Alton Towers.
The Express has heard about the proposed trip, which comes at a price of £2,000, and solicited the opinion of politicians and taxpayers, the latter who will pick up the tab.
Before them, a word from Tony Harvey, from Knowsley Councils, social inclusion unit.
Taking these youths out for the day and bringing them back exhausted after a positive experience will make a difference to Mischief Night, says he.
And while we mull over the benefits of forming a 50-strong gang of miscreants and pumping them full of adrenalin and candy floss, pensioner Lawrence Fisher, who has spent a lifetime waiting to be asked his opinion on such matters, speaks out.
The last thing these thugs deserve is a free handout, he says. It should be the other way round. The council should be paying for the victims of crime to be taken away on a trip.
At least all sides can agree on one thing: they all want an excuse to get out of Knowsley.’
Kill Phil
‘LOONY Lisas fragile hold on sanity slipped further away this week when she decided to kill Phil yet again. Even though she failed the last time, Lisa thought it would be a good idea to use almost exactly the same plan this time round. And for good measure, she left a copy of it in her flat for Sharon to find.
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| The Watts: Dim And Dimmer |
Its difficult to see why even someone of Lisas limited intelligence would need to write down: Buy gun. Lure Phil to woods. Shoot Phil.
Sharon had popped round to give Lisa a toy of Louises that shed dropped in the street. Unfortunately, being one sandwich short of a picnic, Lisa had left both the gun and the plan lying around.
Dont try an stop me, wailed an increasingly goggle-eyed Lisa. He deserves to die. When Sharon failed to dissuade her of this slightly drastic course of action, Lisa ran out, locking her in the flat which would have been a slightly better plan if shed remembered to cut the phone line first.
Instead of calling up Nigerian chat lines like most people, Sharon called her dad, begging him to warn Phil of Lisas plan. Den rushed off to the Walford woods to talk Lisa out of it, for reasons best known to himself, as he and Phil are already sworn enemies.
We need to work together on this darlin Den growled. Yer daughter aint gonna fank you fer killin er dad now, is she? After much lip quivering, Lisa decided that Den was right and lowered the gun just as Phil was calling out to her.
Den has now taken Lisa under his wing and given her a job (unspecified) and even got her five grand back from John The Hitman. There are more ways to skin a cat, he muttered to Lisa in the caff, or rather ways to peel a Mr Potatohead.
Den has already put his plans into motion by buying Phils old house in The Square and employing an extra from The Krays to go digging into his background. And according to the tabloids, Dens set to go one stage further by bedding Sam Mitchell over Christmas.
Elsewhere in The Square, Pauline and Derek have finally gotten wise to Martin and kicked him out for stealing from the stall. Pauline has now successfully managed to get rid of all her horrendous offspring.
Perhaps she could give the Queen some tips.’
Camp X-Ray
‘IF psychologists are paid to state the bleedin obvious, then it follows that psychology lecturers are paid to teach people to state the bleedin obvious.
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| Cliff Richard II |
And media-friendly psychology lecturers, like Grant Jeffrey, of Napier University, are paid to teach people to state the bleedin obvious…in print.
Mr Jeffrey is called upon this morning to pass comment on the Express exclusive story that Robbie Williams is too camp to conquer the United States.
Its not the Express that is saying so, but one of the USs leading female stars, Sheryl Crow.
Theres a camp element to Robbie thats too threatening to Americans, she tells the paper.
American men dont want to see anything thats burlesque or vaudevillian, they want to feel that their artist is brooding and macho.
As evidence, she cites the likes of Eminem, 50 Cent and even Justin Timberlake, men who are so aggro they dont even look like rock stars.
The Express says 29-year-old Williams has done little to scotch rumours about his sexuality, even appearing recently on the front cover of the US gay magazine, The Advocate.
And this is where our media-friendly psychologist comes in to suggest that Robbie Williams reluctance to reveal his true sexuality may be a shrewd move on his part.
This may be the action of an agent provocateur, he says. By keeping people guessing about his sexuality, he may be sending out a message that he does not care if people think he is gay or not gay.
Congratulations, Mr Jeffrey. You are the first recipient of Anoraks inaugural No Shit Sherlock award for stating the bleedin obvious.’
Would You Credit It?
‘IF there is a sucker born every minute and about 670,000 babies are born every year in the UK, then that means that four out of every five of us are suckers.
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| Get a genuine crystal-style tankard with each new account |
That sounds about right but there is one thing about us suckers and that is we dont like to be told thats what we are.
Everyone knew Ratners jewellery was crap but it was only when Gerald Ratner publicly admitted as much that we stopped buying it.
Everyone knows that credit cards are a rip-off, but no-one expected the head of Barclays Bank to admit as much.
However, thats what Matthew Barrett did yesterday in front of the Commons Treasury Select Committee.
I dont borrow on credit cards because its too expensive, he said, adding that he had also urged his grown-up children not to run up such debts.
Not that Mr Barrett has much need for credit after earning £1.7m in salary and bonuses last year.
But his admission has infuriated MPs and todays papers, with the Mirror describing him as Barclays Plank.
However, the Mail enjoys watching the chief executives of the UKs five major banks come under enemy fire, even if those who were pulling the trigger were mostly Labour MPs.
Persecution of moneylenders is a pastime known to populist leaders since the Dark Ages, it says.
But these days usurers tend to hide inside tall glass buildings and make sure shareholders are well quelled.
An appearance in front of a Commons Select Committee is all very well, but maybe it is time we reverted to more medieval forms of persecution.
So if you see a banker today, we urge you to throw him or her into the nearest river. If they float, then burn them for good measure.’
The Big Question
‘NO-ONE has followed the career of Lucy Pinder more closely than us and wed like to think that there is no-one or nothing that has offered her more support, except perhaps her reinforced cantilever bra.
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| Bra-vo! |
We were there when she was discovered on Bournemouth beach just two short months ago and we have cheered her on every step of the way as her FF breasts have propelled her to fame and fortune.
But even our patience is not unlimited – and today Anorak asks the question that is on the lips of the nation: When is Lucy going to get her top off?
This morning, Lucy (who has just been chosen as the face – and body – of the new National Lottery scratchcard game) proudly celebrates in her bikini on the front page of the Star.
Not so long ago I couldnt even afford to do the lottery, says our 19-year-old heroine. Now theyre paying me to live the high-life in the sun.
Its a dream come true, especially considering that I never thought of myself as model material. Im determined to make the most of it.
And we say Hear, hear and whip off your top to that.’
Square Bashing
‘THE year is 2012. The place is London. And the first visitors to the city are stepping off the train at Europe Station to watch the Olympic Games.
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| Napoleon’s Column |
The stadium may only be half finished, the cross-London rail link may not go across London and the Tube hasnt moved since it ground to a halt three years ago.
But at least London has plenty to offer the sightseer. And so its straight off to Concord Square to see Nelson Mandelas Column…
Sorry, youre confused? Well, you clearly havent read this mornings Express the paper thats proud to be British which alerts a grateful nation to an EU plot to rename Trafalgar Square and Waterloo Station.
And worse! Leading the plot is a British EU official by the name of Francis Carpenter, who has the official title of European Investment Fund chief but also goes by the name Lord Haw Haw.
Mr Carpenter (who is married to a French woman) writes in French newspaper Le Figaro the paper that wishes it was British that thousands of French must be insulted every day as they arrive in London.
Our country has known countless victories over our neighbours, he writes, and the streets and squares named after these victories risk offending a European youth that we should be trying to unite.
Why not rename these places to give them a more European theme?
Obviously, we have far more of these names than the French – and, with Crecy, Poitiers and Agincourt, a few more up our sleeve – but even they have known military success in their time.
How many Austrians and Germans arriving in Paris feel uncomfortable as they plod along the Avenues de Wagram, Iena and Friedland, or stop off for a rest on the Place dAusterlitz? asks Mr Carpenter.
Well, if theyre anything like the British youth (for whom Waterloo is a song by Abba, Nelson a character in The Simpsons and Trafalgar a brand of cigarettes), the answer is probably not many.’
Off Massage
‘IS the Mail proud to be British? We only ask because, unlike the Express, it doesn’t boast of the fact on its masthead.
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| ‘Today, children, we’re going to learn Astanga yoga’ |
And unlike the Express it makes no mention of the EU plot to give London’s stations and squares names that are more acceptable to our friends on the other side of the Channel.
However, maybe the paper that may or may not be proud to be British is in such a lather of righteous indignation this morning that it clean forgot to wave its Union Jack.
For a start, there are thousands of parents to terrify with the news that seals on baby food jars may be contaminated by a cancer-causing toxin.
Then, there are other women to frighten with the news that thousands of women are being denied a vital drug in the fight against breast cancer ‘in a new postcode lottery scandal’.
And of course we are all left shaking our heads when we read about how five-year-old pupils at Treverbyn Community Primary have been taught to give each other relaxing head massages before morning class.
‘A typical session involves children pairing up and carrying out back, shoulder, neck and head massages over their school sweatshirts before swapping over,’ says the Mail.
‘But what are the chances of them being able to spell it?’ it asks.
Come on. As every five-year-old knows, the answer is I-T.’
