"As far as I am aware I did not put my hands around her neck."

Heh, this news story in the self-righteous and clucking Daily Mail made me laugh this morning. Normally I wouldn't read their right-wing trash, but they also have lots of bitchy showbiz stories, so they're sometimes worth a punt. Well, Sky News presenter Kay Burley has been accused of roughing up a paparrazi photographer, Kirsty Wigglesworth, outside the courtroom in London waiting for that Naomi Campbell:

Sky News presenter Kay Burley clashed with a photographer during the mayhem when Naomi Campbell arrived at court yesterday.

The newscaster, 46, was apparently hit in the cheek by a camera - and was then seen with her hand around a photographer's throat.

What kills me about this is that when asked about the incident, Kate Burley had the chutzpah to says:

"As far as I am aware I did not put my hands around her neck. I was hit in the face with a camera. You can still see the injury on my forehead and like anyone else would do I just put my hands up. If I did anything else, then I apologise."

That's right girl, deny, deny, deny! She's not stupid, she's gone down the Bill Clinton or R Kelly route and made up some kind of bullshit story and now she's sticking to it. Doesn't matter that there were about a hundred photographers there. You go, girl!

Anyone care for a game of Hip Hop chess?

Does your man like Hip Hop? Does he like chess? If so, how about getting him this Hip Hop chess set? I know it's expensive at £2500 for the set, but it's super cool. Plus, that Missy Elliott piece is just too, too cute!



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Fifteen year old kid to be prosecuted by the City of London police for calling Scientology a Cult

Did you read this story about the fifteen year old kid who may be prosecuted by the City of London police when he took part in a peaceful demonstration opposite the Scientology London headquarters? I read about it in the Guardian:

The incident happened during a protest against the Church of Scientology on May 10. Demonstrators from the anti-Scientology group, Anonymous, who were outside the church's £23m headquarters near St Paul's cathedral, were banned by police from describing Scientology as a cult by police because it was "abusive and insulting".

Writing on an anti-Scientology website, the teenager facing court said: "I brought a sign to the May 10th protest that said: 'Scientology is not a religion, it is a dangerous cult.'

"'Within five minutes of arriving I was told by a member of the police that I was not allowed to use that word, and that the final decision would be made by the inspector."

A policewoman later read him section five of the Public Order Act and "strongly advised" him to remove the sign. The section prohibits signs which have representations or words which are threatening, abusive or insulting.

The teenager refused to back down, quoting a 1984 high court ruling from Mr Justice Latey, in which he described the Church of Scientology as a "cult" which was "corrupt, sinister and dangerous".

After the exchange, a policewoman handed him a court summons and removed his sign.

Silly boy, he made a typo on his sign describing Scientology as a cult. Surely that should be an N instead of an L?

When is the right time to bring up butt sex?

Now, before reading this story I had no idea who this Spencer Pratt person was. The girls at work told me that he was an actor in this fakey reality telly show called The Hills but I'm clearly not "down with the kids" these days as I've never seen it. Anyway, Radar has recently employed him as their regular agony uncle guy and he kicks things off in grand style with his answer to the following age-old question:

How long do you have to date someone before it's appropriate to bring up the possibility of anal sex?

If you're dating a guy, right away. If you're dating girl, I think you'll know pretty quick if she's into that. If they're not bringing it up, it's not something on their agenda. That's just realistic. My boxing coach Dirty Phi says, "If you stick your pinkie in there, and then another finger, and then another, and she responds happily, then it's cool."

I love that answer: If you're dating a guy, right away. I mean, he just gets right in there with no hesitation whatsoever, like it's the most natural thing in the world, which it is, of course. Having googled this Spencer Pratt person is, he's generally described as being a douchebag and a general all-round idiot, but I have to admit that I find his answer here very affirming and refreshing. Even complete losers can sometimes have their moments!

My Beautiful Mommy - the book that helps kids cope with mommy's plastic surgery

Are you having plastic surgery soon? Do you have a young child and you need help to explain what's going to happen to Mommy? Well then, this is the book for you! As if we didn't have enough shite in bookshops (my local branch of Waterstone's actually has a "Tragic Lives" section so I know what I'm talking about!) along comes this little gem from Dr. Michael Salzhauer - My Beautiful Mommy.

I mean, I'm sure there are more important things to discuss with your kids than your tit job or your vaginal rejuvenation, but oh no, let's get our priorities right. I guess this one really is for those with more money than sense:

"Dr. Michael Salzhauer, a renowned plastic surgeon, wrote My Beautiful Mommy to help patients explain their transformation to their children. The story guides children through Mommy's surgery and healing process in a friendly, nonthreatening way."

You reckon Madonna's gonna get this for her kids?



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Tracey Ullman's "State of the Union"

British comedien Tracey Ullman is doing a new telly show for Showtime called State of the Union. Here's some of the PR guff:

"Tracey tackles the country’s celebrity-obsessed, 24- hour news culture by portraying a variety of characters from celebrities such as Cameron Diaz, Renée Zellweger, Dina Lohan, Tony Sirico and David Beckham to politicians and pundits like Nancy Pelosi and Arianna Huffington. Additionally, Ullman has created a new line-up of original characters that reflect a cross-section of American society from an Indian pharmacist to a homeless woman without health insurance to a soldier on temporary leave from Iraq."

Oh, I can't wait to see this. Tracey can be a bit hit or miss with her targets, but I love the look of her dead-on Renee Zellweger. Tracey looks just like our favourite puffy faced, slitty eyed, sweaty Renee, though if I had to criticise I could say that her mouth could do with being a bit more like it's giving a blow-job.

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Margaret Cho and the gays

Out.com speaks to comedien, actress and belly dancer Margaret Cho who gives her top ten tips for dealing with the gays:

1) There should be a big Fag Hag Shuttle from every gay bar at 1:15 a.m. That’s when the dick clock strikes and girls become invisible. It doesn’t matter if you're Judy Garland back from the dead.

2) If I’m not paying you, don’t tell me what to do with my hair. A gay
friend once talked me into a spiral perm -- in 2003!

3) Don’t claim you like shopping, then get pissed and just sit in the “man chair.” Good gay shopping partners text-message while I shop happily.

4) There’s no such thing as too much gay bedroom talk. You’ve given me the best advice on blow jobs.

5) Never say pussy smells like fish, because balls can smell like burritos -- and I’d rather have fish than Mexican.

6) I like the term fag hag. Even though you’re taking two derogatory things and smashing them together, it works. It’s real.

7) My sense of personal history is Madonna-centric: The start of my stand-up career? That was during Blond Ambition. First breakup? When the Sex book came out. Her “Frozen” period? That was when I was all about yoga and wearing lots of oils.

8) Gay guys should really check out the Discovery Channel reality show Deadliest Catch. It’s deep-sea fishermen, the butchest of the butch. The guys are so straight that it’s really like porn.

9) I don’t expect you to pay for dinner, but you’d better take me someplace where I can spot the fancy, top-shelf, boldface gays -- the ones you link to from your blog.

10) Forgive yourselves about your bodies already. If you can’t, then shut up about it.

Ten rules for 'mo living from Joan Rivers

From the fabulously potty-mouth of Ms Joan Rivers, courtesy of Out.com, here are ten lessons in contemporary 'mo living:

1) Fag hag and fruit fly are perfectly acceptable terms. Especially for Katie Holmes.

2) A word gay men use that drives me nuts: retail.

3) Here's a gay obsession I'll never understand: fisting. Do you know how hard it is to clean shit off a charm bracelet?

4) One thing I love that you'll never understand? A second date.

5) I never fall in love with my gay pals because I only befriend ugly queens.

6) Gay men aren't always on the mark about fashion. Never again will I attend an Iranian cocktail party wearing a fishnet burkha.

7) Don't abandon me for a hookup. If you do, I will text message your trick and say, “Don't fuck my friend. He's got herpes.”

8) Don't think I won't cock-block you. I get in between more gay men than Astroglide.

9) Honesty is like Botox. There's no such thing as too much.

10) If you're going to wear ass-less chaps, then shave your ass. How many more times do I have to say this to the lesbian community?

My six degrees to Kevin Bacon

Ok, so it was a very quiet day at work today so I was browsing the Times online and a piece by Daniel Finkelstein caught my eye. He was playing the Six Degress of Kevin Bacon game, but instead of linking an actor to Kevin Bacon, he was trying to link himself. Anyway, we all had a go at work and surprised ourselves at how easy it is. Actually, I think it'd be harder to find a way of not finding a link between yourself and Kevin Bacon. He's not just the centre of the entertainment world, he's the centre of the universe!

Anyway, here's how I did mine in three steps:


My cousin Lee Montgomery (above left) was in Girls Just Want To Have Fun with Sarah Jessica Parker..


Sarah Jessica Parker was in Footloose..


..with Kevin Bacon!

See, I hardly had to break a sweat. How many steps does it take you?

Barack Obama's "Cherries for Change"?

Now this one tickled me. Radar has an article about Democratic Presidential candidate Barack Obama.

Barack Obama scored the coveted frozen treat endorsement yesterday when Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield—better known as Ben & Jerry—announced a new ice cream in his honor. The rather uninspired name: "Cherries for Change." Not surprisingly, some writers at conservative-leaning blogs are kindly offering up alternative names for Obama's flavor, with ideas ranging from amusing to outright offensive ...

• "Chocolate Promise"
• "Cherries Messiah"
• "Commie Crunch"
• "Lefty Licorice"
• "Trotsky Ice-Picnic"
• "Mocha Fluff"
• "Ice Cream Dream"
• "Nihili-Vanilli"
• "Nut 'n Substantial"
• "Chocful o' Hopee"
• "Obamanana Split"
• "Marx Bar Crunch"
• "ChocoNilla Swirl"
• "Barracky Road"
• "NeoPolitician"

My particular favourite is Obamanana Split. Well, it's the only one that isn't racist for a start, plus it's a funny play on his name and banana ice cream is absolute heaven. Um, I was trying to think of a name myself, but all I could come up with was Coconut Waffle. Sounds yummy doesn't it?

The sensual world of the Velvet Vulva

If you're wondering what would make a charming present for the special lady in your life, how about a delightful handbag from The Velvet Vulva?

"More than a sumptuous Renaissance bag, the Velvet Vulva represents in three-dimensional form the sacred portal to the feminine temple. Each has sumptuous fabric labia and a beautiful button clitoris. A Velvet Vulva might become your everyday bag; it might always stay on your altar; or it might be acquired for special occasions. "

Now, I have to admit that I've never actually had the pleasure of seeing a vulva. Well, apart from Britney's of course, so I'll just have to take their word that it's anatomically correct and a genuine representation of a woman's "flower". Kinda looks pretty doesn't it? The smaller ones are perfect for a mobile phone, just don't set it to vibrate!



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Pikachu's tasty bean paste cake slices!

Oh, these are the most darlin' things I've seen all week! I wish we had goodies like these at my local food store. These Pikachu head bean paste cakes would be perfect for my lunch box at work. I don't eat animals and all, but biting into a ready sliced Pokemon would be all right wouldn't it? I mean, Pikachu's already been chopped up and beheaded, he wouldn't feel a thing..

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"It's a doll! You're a numb nuts Granny!"

Well, did you watch it? My Fake Baby last night was one of the craziest telly shows I've ever seen. It was all we could talk about at work today. I sat watching it slack-jawed with my flatmate last night after the documentary about the Half Ton Mum (as if that wasn't enough by itself). The second bill of Channel Four's freak show telly was a documentary about women who make or buy 'Reborn' babies. In case you didn't watch it, Reborning is the 'wonderful' art of turning a vinyl play baby into a realistic looking collector baby doll. You can even request little premature ones, how darling! Artists that create these heirloom babies are called ‘reborners’. The show focussed on three women, one who made the babies, one who had several and one was planning on getting her first.


First up, we had this godawful chav woman with appalling pink press-on acrylic nails from hell called Sue. Sue had several babies including a couple of "racial" ones. Don't make the mistake of calling them dolls. Her husband did and he got a sharp reprimand! Sue and her husband wanted to have 'fun' when they were younger and didn't feel that children fitted into the picture. Now that they're older, they still don't so Sue makes do with these reborn babies. In fact, she prefers them as they don't make noise or any mess: “I want them well behaved and clean and the reality isn’t like that.” No sh*t! I remember when I used to visit my little niece and nephew. I sure didn't wear my good clothes as I knew I'd leave covered in poop and vomit. You know, that's what kids do!

Anyway, Sue took it all very seriously, taking her fakey babies for walks in the park in immaculate prams with one set of wheels for walks and one set scrubbed clean for indoors. She had a fake feeding bottle filled with fabric conditioner and she went shopping at Harrods to get a new outfit for a reborn baby she was due to collect in Washington USA. Sue spent £300 on a Robert Cavalli outfit for 'Sophie', the new baby, reasoning with the bemused sales assistant that it wasn't a waste of money as the outfit wouldn't get soiled. The sales assistant obviously just thought about her commision and happily took payment while I couldn't help thinking that Sue would've been better off sorting out her loose perm and upper lip moustache.

Sue then flew off to the US with her Mom to pick up her new baby, Sophie. Quite why she flew all that way wasn't made clear, especially when she ended up waiting for her 'arrival' at her hotel. She noted: "It's a long delivery!" When the baby finally arrived, it was in a cardboard box, wrapped up in nappies. Seriously, I'm not making this sh*t up. Sue's Mom solemnly asked if she would like to be left alone and Sue agreed, enjoying every second of unwrapping her new baby. She loved the baby but we thought it was fugly. Actually, it looked a bit like Suri Cruise! We left Sue to 'bond' with her new baby but when we rejoined her two days later she wasn't happy - Sue had found fault. Sophie had been damaged in transit and the back of her head was cracked. Never mind, Sue wrapped Sophie back up in her nappies and popped her back into the box, saying: "This one's going back!" Awful woman, but at least we should be grateful that she's acting this way with dolls, not real children.


The other buyer was Christine. She had looked after her grandchild Harry when his mother, Christine's daughter, had cancer. Christine kept talking about how Harry was taken away from her and she wanted to fill the void with a reborn baby. She supplied a photograph to Jaime Eaton, a reborn baby maker who seemed to bake them in her oven. This was a weird story as we were given the impression that Harry was dead, or at least that Christine was unable to ever see him again. Anyway, she finally got her Harry reborn baby, complete with scabs and scratches painted on. Christine declared that she was delighted and that "nobody can take him away this time!" then took him home strapped into a baby car seat!

Christine's husband wasn't impressed and said: “I don’t like it Christine. It makes me think of something on a mortuary slab.” Christine was very upset by this and drove off to see a fellow reborn baby enthusiast. What really freaked me out afterwards was that Christine chatted on her webcam with Harry! It turned out that her daughter had gotten better, fell in love and decided to emigrate to New Zealand for a new life and I'm sure I'm not the only person watching who thought at this point that she probably did it to get away from her smothering needy Mom!

Christine showed reborn baby Harry to the real Harry on webcam but he wasn't impressed which lead to the following insightful exchange:

Harry - “It’s just a doll!”

Christine: “No, it’s a baby.”

Harry - "It's a doll! You're a numb nuts Granny!"

You said it, Harry. You can always rely on a child to cut to the chase and not pussyfoot around with niceties. No wonder these deluded numpties didn't want the real thing. They couldn't handle it.

Lego Stephen Hawking - so cute!

Aw, I love this lego rendition of Stephen Hawking, it's so cute!

And to think that I have trouble even constructing a chair or table..

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Man boobs and the modern man and boy

This story in the New York Times has popped up all over the blogosphere. It’s about man boobs. Yes, you read that correctly, man boobs. You know, those things that Simon Cowell has. I don’t suffer from them thankfully, but I've know many men who do but that's not for discussing here. Anyway, back to the story:

” In 2006, according to the group, nearly 14,000 boys age 13 to 19 underwent surgery to reduce the size of their breasts. That represents 70 percent of all the male patients who had such surgery last year, and an increase of 21 percent over the previous year for that age group.
In a culture that increasingly encourages young boys to be body conscious, demand for chiseled torsos and sculpted pecs is rising, so much so that the number of boys ages 13 to 19 who had breast reduction surgery last year is equal to the total number of all men who had the procedure just two years earlier, in 2004.
The foremost reason is the rise in obesity, according to several plastic surgeons who were interviewed. At the same time, there is a new willingness among pediatricians and plastic surgeons to surgically treat enlarged male breasts.
Often, enlarged breasts are simply part of adolescence, most commonly caused by the hormonal fluctuation of puberty, according to the National Institutes of Health. But in a society that values chiseled abs and Rafael Nadal biceps, adolescent boys are willing to resort to surgery to fix problems their bodies might resolve later on their own.”

That’s the point, isn’t it? The body can sort this kind of thing out by itself in most cases. I used to be overweight, in fact, I was a fat child, then a fat teenager, then a fat adult. I thought I would always be fat and didn’t see how I could ever have a slim, athletic body. I just didn’t think it was possible. Well, having read a few books about nutrition and having problems with asthma, I decided to eat better and exercise. It’s what I call the No Shit Sherlock Diet: move a bit more and eat a bit less. Guess what, it really worked. Within a few months my body had transformed. From being the fat asthmatic kid, I became sporty and slim. And it was relatively easy. I just swam regulary and ate natural food.
The man boob does seem to be more present though these days. You must know a few men who have them. Maybe it’s time that retailers started selling Kramer’s Bro, the bra for men with breast development. Remember that hilarious episode from Seinfeld? I preferred the name George’s dad had, “the Mansiere”. What started as a joke in a sitcom seems more relevant now, doesn’t it?