Kate Windsor Got Her Tits Out; Two In The Eye For Freedom Of Speech

Sometimes it’s possible that things get leaked to the press that perhaps shouldn’t have been, and because it might be salacious gossip it automatically becomes “in the public’s interest.” Who can forget when Ronan Keating had an affair and we all climbed over each other to decry his family friendly persona and that he was a terrible man? Or when Mark Owen did the same? Or when Ryan Giggs did the same? Or when Grant Bovey did the same? Or when Andrew Marr did the same? Or when Dermot Murnaghan did the same? Or when David Beckham did the same? These weren’t an invasion of people’s privacy, they were “in the public’s interest.”

Just like when Tulisa did that sex video that was plastered everywhere. “Public’s interest.” Mixed with twinges of a self serving fame hound.

The difference between something being in the public’s interest, and out and out gossip is tricky. Being in the public’s interest would imply that the public knowing the ins and outs of a celebrity’s marriage is an important thing. The Joe Schlomo needs to know about what they’ve been up to. It’s not an invasion of privacy because they’re celebrities and should know that this is a part of the job of being a role model. The super injunctions showed a massive break in what was in the public’s interest and what wasn’t, mainly because they dealt with things that actually did impact on the public.

Which is obviously bollocks. It’s not an inherent aspect of being famous that you become a role model, and even if it does, it doesn’t mean that you have to respect this. It’s someone else’s rules that all celebrities play by. Unfortunately the rules are made up by the media, who masquerade making money as doing the public a favour.

But what’s kicked off this mild shit storm about someone’s unsuspecting tits?

Well the possible Queen of England’s tits were snapped by a member of the French paparazzi at a secluded villa in the South of France.

Seems like a pretty inconsequential thing doesn’t it? There’s billions of women around the World who have boobies, and a tiny percentage get their chebs out for money. It’s not a massively major deal. Getting snapped starkers when you least expect it would be annoying; of course it would. I’d hate to have photos taken of me in the buff, because the World isn’t ready for that level of brilliant. And admittedly, I’d be furious if these photos were sold for thousands and published in a magazine and I didn’t get any dividend from them.

But where Kate and I differ (one of the many ways I bet) is that I wouldn’t get my schlong out in public. It wouldn’t happen. And Kate should have known better than to let her guard and bra down in an area who’s paparazzi are renowned for being super-psycho. Diana’s death aside, the French paparazzi have got a long history of taking pictures of British Royalty when they maybe shouldn’t. Fergie’s foot sucking happened in France, as did the pictures of Diana with her baps out on a balcony and pictures of William and Harry messing around next to a pool.

Despite titillating men the World over, having the Palace bang on about suing the magazine who published them is making the matter worse.

Just like Harry’s recent “scandal” (it’s in quotation marks because it’s nothing that any other person might have done when they’re in Las Vegas and plied with alcohol; man or woman) having every minute piece of information examined and overdramatised only makes it worse.

After the year that the Royals have had, maybe a glimmer of humanity wouldn’t go amiss. They are, essentially, having a wonderful holiday at the expense of people who can’t even afford to have feed their children. Not that they should expect to have these things happen just because of that (that’s delving back into the troublesome celebrity/role model area), but having a sense of humour about it might actually endear the Royals to people a little.

It’d be a shame for them to go back to the status quo that plagued the Royal family since Diana’s death.

Celebrity Fashion

Karl Lagerfeld Hates Pippa Middleton’s Face

Sometimes massive stars of fashion enjoy letting their mouths flap like an unfinished seam. And sometimes this can irritate everyone who has a decent opinion of people and events. Remember how repulsive John Galliano was when he spouted all that anti-semitic spaff at those poor people? And when professional perm James Brown used the N word? Remember that? Well, it looks like Karl Lagerfeld has decided that he should probably say something offensive. Maybe he was sat over expensive coffee harvested by the most couture of orphans and wanted to kill someone’s buzz for the day, or maybe he’s so wrapped up in his own fart cloud of importance that he didn’t think what he was saying. It’s the fart cloud isn’t it.

Well, after saying some bad but true words about Adele (who might have been pregnant at the time, FOR SHAME!) a few months ago, he has turned his beady, slightly stretched eyes to the Middletons. And how he hates Pippa Middleton’s face.

More than what we do when we see her in the paper. He doesn’t just roll his eyes like we do. He has a proper cob on about her for some reason.

He said

I don’t like the sister’s face. She should only show her back.

Which makes perfect sense really. That way she could really develop a monopoly on the perfect human arse. And really show the part human part arse Mark Wright a thing or two about being a total and complete anus hat.

No one really cares about anything else that Pippa does, it’s all about the butt, and I cannot lie.

Celebrity TV

What Does It Take To Make Andy Murray A Hero? Answer: Tears

It takes a lot to be a ‘hero.’ At one point you would have to traverse stormy seas and come back clutching some dark root that people could smoke or eat or shove up their arse to be called a ‘hero’, but now, in these heady days of exploding boob jobs, you can raise a family by yourself and be hailed as some sort of legend. Even though you’re just a single parent.

And what’s the problem with this? Calling people who aren’t a hero automatically turns you into a troll.

I’m not a troll. I wouldn’t go out of my way to say something offensive to someone just because I’m bored, or I’m waiting for Coronation Street to come back on a 8:30, but having opinions which don’t tally with the moral majority of Twitter users can sometimes make it seem like I am.

Case in point; Andy Murray.

Today, Andy Murray was hyped beyond compare. On Sunday morning he could’ve walked up to Buckingham Palace, strolled into the Queen’s bedroom and took a four day out shit on her and would still be Britain’s Tennis Hero, even though his record stands as impressive as a kitten playing with a plastic ball (except a kitten has a bit more personality). The man was thrashed so totally by Roger Federer that BDSM websites are hoping to make a killing from one man being dominated so badly by another.

But during his post-match speech the big jessie started crying. Upset that he’d been beaten so thoroughly, or because he knows what Judy will be doing to him tonight when he got home, who knows? But as the first tears started forming in his eyes, eager subeditors were already calling him a British hero.

A British hero who failed at almost every point to do what he should’ve done? What’s next? Giving a milkman who always delivers milk late and warm an OBE? Or why don’t we just put Katie Price in charge of the military? She’s had more failures under her belt than most. She must be a massive hero. Instead of being a massive cunt.

So what does it take to be a hero? Well, in Andy Murray’s case, not much. We, as a country, need to stop rewarding behaviour that is just average and promoting it to almost Godlike status. Is a woman who’s had eight children and brought them up by the scruff of their necks and speaks at length about how hard life is as a single mother, no matter how her friends try and get her to start being a total and massive bore, a hero? Of course she’s not. She’s a mother.

It’s not that being a mother is easy, because I don’t imagine it is, but is it more courageous and valiant than redefining what human evolution is? Of course not. What’s that, the doctors said you were barren but you managed to squeeze sprogs out and not have a job? Have a fucking medal, and a portion of my pay while you’re at it. No no, don’t worry, you’re a hero, and subsequently untouchable.

And as we head face first into the sweaty crotch of humanity that is the Olympics, prepare yourself for flowery and skin crawling descriptions of some of Britain’s best athletes as heroes and legends, but I’ve got one question…

Would Charles Darwin advertise Subway?


Dappy and Tulisa Have A C*nt Off

Despite being one of the most irritating women on the Planet, and somehow being voted the World’s Sexiest Woman by the hamfisted morons at FHM, Tulisa has been up to her old tricks again. It seems that you can take the girl out of the scumbag, but you can’t take the scumbag out of the girl.

And despite, allegedly pledging a truce with her equally disgusting cousin, Dappy, she has tried to out do his awful actions by throwing some rather controversial hand signals. No, not the universal symbol for wank, or flipping the middle finger, but instead throwing a symbol that some gangster dicks in London use. A bit like the Dark Mark, but if the Dark Mark was used by overgrown toddlers who don’t understand the importance of society and how bad drugs are.

But not to be outdone by his more famous cousin, primitive pipsqueak Dappy released his new video that took pretty wide swipes at the X Factor (and by default, Tulisa) and past winners like Alexandra Burke and Joe McElderry. The video, and the song, is offensive and a bit dull, but that doesn’t really matter when it comes to the oneupmanship of Tulisa and Dappy. The showbiz charade is all about being as outspoken as possible, and as it stands, Dappy has definitely outdone Tulisa in this round. Singing about rape and Cancer is totally worse than throwing some childish signs in a hood.

Come on Tulisa, pull your finger out. X Factor stars soon.


Dylan McDermott Turns All Monk On Us And Solves His Mother’s Murder


In an amazing display of detective skills, award winning actor and, seemingly, great guy Dylan McDermott has solved his own Mother’s murder AND even revealed that there was a police cover up surrounding it.

What have you done today? Managed to fart and not poo yourself? *slow claps*

When McDermott was a bitty five year old, and called Mark, his mother was shot fatally in the head (well we’re not all Jack Branning are we?) but a verdict of accidental shooting was called because renowned druggie and gangster John Sponza was cleaning his gun and it just happened to go off.

But, and this is where it gets Murder, She Wrote, Sponza was also a police informant and his father was an influential jailer, so it seems that he had got his son off a murder charge. But don’t worry, because John Sponza was found in the trunk of a car in 1972.

How amazing is it that art seemed to imitate life and a Channel 5 daytime movie was brought to life before our very eyes.

So, from now on, fuck Ghostbusters and fuck Columbo. Want a case solving, call Dylan McDermott, if we’re lucky he might bring Julia Roberts with him to do the CSI shit.

Wow, Dylan McDermott. Looks like there are some perks of looking like David Schwimmer.


Ding Ding Ding! It’s Cameron vs Carr Round Two (SPOILER: No One Wins)

“Sorry? Moi? Not really.”

It seems that the grudge match between Jimmy Carr and David Cameron is far from actually being resolved, and looks like it might escalate into using chairs and ladders to find a winner. Although both being posh nancies, it’ll probably fall down to who can hire the better nanny and owns the most estate.

Tensions mounted when David Cameron, probably unfairly, singled Jimmy Carr out for his morally abhorrent but still legal attempt at not paying as much tax as he probably should, and said that he was “morally wrong” for not paying his way.

And now Carr has responded by saying that

He’s having a meeting with Obama, says excuse me Obama, there’s something I need to deal with, Jimmy Carr’s a fucking dick


What sort of fucking cunt would leave a kid in the pub?

Which are both legitimate points really. But instead of David Cameron shaking in his comfortable, yet insanely expensive shoes, it should be Gary Barlow and the members of Take That who are shaking like a shitting dog, because now that Cameron has said that Jimmy Carr is morally wrong for tax avoidance, this means that Tory donor and Royal arse licker, Gary Barlow is also at fault.

What makes it slightly worse, is that Carr has repeatedly apologised for his actions to people who have gone to his live show, as well as on 8 Out Of 10 Cats, but, perhaps due to his unpleasant persona onscreen, it didn’t really seem like he was sorry at all. Perhaps he was just sorry that he’d been found out.

We really need to put the members of Take That, Jimmy Carr and David Cameron in a massive ring and see who comes out on top. There can only be one winner.

Celebrity Music

Chris Brown Is A Violent Criminal: Part, Like, Seven?

If there’s one thing that I love more than life itself it’s when people get what they deserve.

So needless to say I was over the moon that Chris Brown had a bottle thrown at him. I was even more chuffed that it was fellow rapper (and possible wrapper) Drake who allegedly did it.

It’s not because I’m particularly bothered about Chris Brown as a person, to me he seems to be in a massive competition with the rest of the World to out-cunt his past self, but the more he gets himself about and makes a fool of himself, the more I enjoy it.

Just to clarify: want to beat a woman viciously? Just call it being a part of “Team Breezy” and it’s acceptable.

Want to gloss over the fact that you beat a woman viciously and have a tenuous grip over your anger? Win a Grammy and tell everyone to fuck off.

It’s like he lives his life in a bubble of perpetual disembodiment and only comes together when he needs to do something offensive to keep his name in the public.

What a dick. Let’s hope that Drake did punch him. And it hurt. Lots.


Chantelle and Alex Have Had A Baby; I Know, I’m Surprised Too

Everyone thought that they wouldn’t last, and that they were a flash in the pan couple hoping to clutch on whatever thin grip of celebrity that they might have once had, but it seems that Chantelle Houghton (who’s somehow only 28) and Alex Reid have brought a bundle of joy into the twisted game of cat and mouse they play with the paparazzi and people who read new!.

And how did they announce it? By ringing family members and friends? Of course not, by informing everyone over Twitter and the editor of OK! of course.

If you’ve seen early or late series of Real Housewives of Orange County you’ll be aware of Slade Smiley. He worked his way through the gated community to fund a lifestyle that he couldn’t afford himself.

Basically, this is Alex Reid.

Being rocketed from relative obscurity to national laughing stock in the space of time it took Katie Price to open her over inflated lips, Reid has done pretty much anything to stay in the public eye. Even Chantelle it would seem. Boom.

But congrats all the same.

Now who’s going to explain Roxanne to the little mite?


Poor Lauren Goodger Gets Bullied; Says She’s Over It

Lauren Goodger, professional nightmare and star of The Only Way Is Essex has spoke about getting bullied on social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook.

Which is a horrible thing to go through for anyone, even those who kind of deserve it.

Goodger told The Sun that

I’ll get hundreds of responses to anything I post saying things like ‘you’re fat’, ‘you’re ugly’, or ‘who are you?’. It can be quite rude and disgusting, too… This just goes too far — it’s bullying. I tell myself these people must have problems of their own to write stuff like this.

But that doesn’t bother Goodger because she’s over it and is now body confident.

Body confident is one of those phrases that makes me toes curl up under themselves and dissolve into the soles of my feet. Who gives a giant shit if someone is feeling confident in their body? Whoopie shit! You might feel fabulous because of all those Danone yoghurts Martine McCutcheon is banging on about, but no one else cares.

“But she might be an inspiration to other women,” you say? Well fuck you, because if women are taking Lauren Goodger as inspiration then they need their heads sorting out.

Saying that you’re confident in your body is like a red rag to a particularly nasty aggressive bull.

Get a grip.

Celebrity TV

Mark Wright: An Epic Trojan Horse Of Misogyny

In an upside down World where right and wrong seem easily interchangeable, and a man with the charm and guile of a pair of testicles with rusty electrodes attached to them (and not looking too dissimilar) can forge a career from being incredibly unlikeable and arrogant, we’re stood on the verge of another ITV2 “exclusive.”

Not Peter Andre’s Bowel Movements, or even Kerry Katona giving up gak for the “final time honest, for me kids though”. It’s Mark Wright, alumnus of The Only Way Is Essex who has graduated from the incestuous avenues of Chigwell and Brentwood and taken himself off to Los Angeles so he can show a few more million people how much of a bell end one man can be. That show is ‘Mark Wright’s Hollywood Nights.’ And a review will be ready this week, as soon as I get the all clear from the doctors to come off the respirator after seeing such an unpleasant man actively make a career for being a tool.

But instead, perhaps a Starter to the Main Course that is ‘Hollywood Nights’, I’m going to look at what makes a Mark Wright, and where the appeal lies, for those of you who are so stunned by the hypnotic orange hue of his skin that you don’t know whether to cry or make sweet, sweet love to a mandarin.

As any fan of The Only Way Is Essex (of which I’ve been cramming as many as I can into my eye holes of late) will know that Wright was one of the main protagonists, and coupled with his on again off again on again off again fiancee Lauren Goodger, were one of the main attractions of the show. It would work on a template almost: he would say something completely inflammatory and offensive to women, to which she would take umbrage against, but then turn it around and make her look like she’s a complete mentalist. A type of woman who creates tiny dolly versions of their boyfriend, but only while the rabbit in the pot cooks.

Mark and Lauren were as unpleasant as each other, and frequently seemed to try and out-cunt each other week after week. Mark might not want his best friend, James Argent to be so under the thumb one week, so Lauren will go out of her way to upset Mark’s family. A loving relationship by anyone’s standards, you’ll probably agree.

Doesn’t seem like much to base a career on here does there? Even Katie Price has established that bouncing off the carcasses of ex-partners can only get you so far before the worry that, once the zombie apocalypse comes, they’ll be back asking for their rings back and whether it was all really because of Roxanne. There has to be something else locked away in the public psyche that allows such an odious man to get away with so much for so long.

Not only does he actively wind up Lauren Goodger (and you don’t want to mess with her, she’s Goddess of the Moon or something with a face like that), but he also strings along other potential girlfriends at the very same time, in the hope that once things do go sour with Lauren (which they always do, they’ve been on and off more times than a suicidal’s gas oven) that he can hop into bed with one of them, effectively propping up his Alpha Dog ego one more time. A perfect example is during ‘The Only Way Is EsseXmas.’ Mark told Lauren that he would always love her and they would probably get back together, just shortly before getting a cab into half cat, half woman Sam Faiers for some heterosexual shagging. He’s such a LAD.

Is this an aspirational icon for people to yearn after? Do young men think ‘Mark Wright seems like a totally fine fellow and he treats women with the respect and admiration that they deserve’? Of course they don’t. They see what he truly is. A sickening blight on the ITV landscape and a reflection of the troubling split between the attitudes of men and woman. But yet they still want to emulate him.

And finally, one last point: the way that Mark treats women on The Only Way Is Essex, a program aimed directly at women, can only be described as grievously misogynistic, yet he still is revered like a hero. It’s Trojan Horse tactics to make women feel as shit as ill fitting bras do.