Advice for wannabe celebrities Kiss and tell all, it keeps the world turning if the love in your heart is burning, burning. The world is your oyster and the press wants your pearls – especially if you’ve slept with hundreds of girls. Kiss and tell all if you’ve slept with a royal. Diana’s dead, there’s…
Robbie Williams has been warned by an obsessive fan not to travel to Berlin in case he is abducted by aliens. Robbie took off in a beam of light as the encore of Angels began and all Robbie’s fans got such a fright that a thousand lighters burned a thousand hands but Robbie didn’t blink…
(Newly elected leader of the Conservative Party) Ah David, poor David, you’ve clasped the poisoned chalice of Tory party leadership, entered a world of malice only an election victory can end. And David, poor David, will you beat off Gordon Brown? Can you really win elections? Can you reposses the Downing Street crown or will…
16 Lines in honour of 50 Cent’s new range of bedroom (and bathroom) accessories Blue, it is said, is the colour and 50 Cent clearly agrees as he’s wooing his female fanbase by inches and degrees with an extravagantly proportioned dildo, a big blue watertight, motorized cock ready for use in the bathtub that he…
Mel Gibson, Mel Gibson, God’s modest son, that full-bloodied Christian replete with a gun who last got his kicks flagellating Christ (because a violence-free movie would not have sufficed) has now got his teeth into the Mayan apocalypse – a subject that could simply fry every synapse – and with a million quid paid to…
Elizabeth Taylor apparently wants her ashes scattered in the grounds of the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama in Cardiff because they are naming a new theatre after Richard Burton. She’ll take her ashes when her lifeblood pales on an airline ticket to romantic Wales. Oh her heart must have wings if every time…
Pretty as a picture, blunt as a spoon, Offer her silver, she’ll ask for the moon. You can’t cheat on Paris, she’s got too much class. There’s no hitting on her friends in an underpass.
“It’s a sin to be tired.” Kate Moss Kate, oh Kate, you’ve lost your gloss. Cocaine’s gain is fashion’s loss. Though cameras keep rolling, they gather no Moss – just a sad-eyed woman looking tired and cross.
Can shotgun wedding socialites auction off their photo rights to the chequebook with the best head for heights? And though all is to be silent at the baby’s birth will shutters not snap for all they’re worth to get a glimpse of Katie’s decreasing girth? And will Tom (silently) cavort and prance like a crippled…