Jordan's grave mistake

Oh God, another day, another quote from the unfathomably popular Jordan to convince Celebritish further that the world is going to hell in the proverbial handcart.

This time, the tangerine twit has told the Sun that, when she slips off this mortal coil, she'd like the legend on her tombstone to read "she had perfect tits".

Where do we start? OK, they are the twin peaks on which she's built her bafflingly successful career, so we can see why she'd like them acknowledged, but there's something distinctly vile about mentioning specific body parts on a tomb stone isn't there? And they're not even real, so in what sense are they perfect tits anyway? Perfect implants, perhaps, though that too is debatable. Makes you think though, what will happen to those big silicon babies when Jordan is dead and buried? Will they refuse to rot and remain as the only remnant of her after the rest has rotted away? How very apt — she'd love that!

Heather's Halloween-worthy GMTV performance

Celebritish just had the misfortune of catching Heather Mills interview with Fiona Phillips on GMTV, and, oh boy, what an interview it was. Fiona barely had to do anything (lucky, really), as Heather ranted, raved, cried and generally did everything most counterproductive to her cause, which is apparently to make us like her again and get the meeja off her back.

Problem is, Heather is actually right: everything she said aboout the media hate campaign is correct, it is, as she says, "disgusting", and she hasn't done anything (quite) worthy of the Mucca-raking we see on a daily basis in the tabs. But why can't the woman get anything resembling a sympathy vote from us? Is it possibly because, even when crying, she has the cold, dead eyes of a relentless psychopath who probably slays kittens for shits and giggles? Yes, think that's it.

Rickkkaaaaayyy!

Yes, in yet another move showing that soaps don't like change and can't move on, Ricky and Bianca, aka Sid Owen and Patsy Palmer, are returning to EastEnders to recreate past 'glories'.

Sid's 'over the moon' they've asked him back, which must be a painful thing for anyone to say to a past employer when they crawl back because, y'know, nothing better came up.

We love this quote from the executive producer: "They are both now living their own lives, and there's been a lot of water under the bridge. But could the old spark reignite?" Hmm, well, combine the fact that you've asked them back TOGETHER with the fact everyone in EastEnders has sex with everyone else in EastEnders (even Pat's worked her way around the Square for Pete's sake, which really defies realism) — and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work out which way the will-they-won't-they plot will go...

Coulthard's product Positioning

Yeah yeah, blah blah, another on-the-wane celebrity launches some sort of smell. But David Coulthard's really deserves a mention, because the name is so, so terrible.

Seriously, I don't care if it smells like heaven itself, could you ever tell anyone who enquires about what that delightful scent is that it's 'Pole Position, actually'? You WILL sound like a nob, quite literally considering the vaguely phallic undertones.

Trashy TV Z-list overload alert!

Oh boy, this one is a real beauty. If you had any plans to go out and do fun things tonight, cancel them right now. Because tonight, a momentous television event takes place, one that people will be talking about for years to come.

Yes, Celebrity Scissorhands. It's on BBC3 tonight — don't miss it! The combination of a truly barrel-scraping concept with a mindbendingly dreadful list of participants is just magic isn't it? Michelle Dewberry, Richard Fairbrass, Scott Mills... I could go on, but somehow my fingers can't bring themselves to type the words.

Incidentally, our money's on Rowetta — but anything could happen! Expect regular updates on the scintillating action.

Who's that girl? Um, Michael Ball, obviously

News reaches Celebritish this morning that Michael Ball's fans have been complaining at the Hairspray previews. Not because it's poor — Celebritish have been to see it and can confirm it's a great piece of high camp musical theatre — but because, um, they don't think he's in it.

See, if you've been living under a rock since the Eighties, and entirely missed the Eighties original, the very successful remake earlier this year AND all the publicity surrounding this production, you won't know that the role of the mother in the show is always taken by a man — a man in a fat suit, a wig, and various feminine accoutrements.

Now, the outfit Ball wears is impressive, as is his performance, but this story really doesn't give the most positive impression of his fans' mental prowess does it? They managed to ignore the posters, the programmes, the publicity, the works, in their blindly devoted dash to catch their idol doing something, anything, on a stage. We feel really sorry for them though, and can just imagine them waiting on tenterhooks for their hero to appear while idly wondering to themselves who the fat bird playing the mother is, as she looks kinda familiar... D'oh!

Some recognition at last.

Last night a small event was held in New York City.
There was no fanfare, no razzle-dazzle, but this event was more important than you could imagine.
FINALLY, a man got recognition for a life of struggling against all the odds.
A solitary voice of reason in a world gone mad with selfishness and capitalism.
This man is called Bono Vox.

You might not have heard of him – he quietly goes about his work, saving millions of people in Africa with his bare hands – coaxing rain out of the sky to make parched land fertile once more, curing the poor of aids, we could go on.
Last night a group of people (and Conde Nast Media Group) had the courage to celebrate this man. To massage his tired, withering ego with a night of quiet reflection.

Here he is with Alicia Keys. Note: he's been so busy turning water into wine he didn't even have time to tuck his shirt in.

This is Billie Joe Armstrong from a group called Green Day. He is so overtly political that MTV won't even play Green Day songs because they are scared of the resulting revolution.

And here is Padma Lakshmi. Noone knows true suffering like someone who has been married to Salman Rushdie.

Gwen Stefani arrives, clearly moved by the gravity of the event.

We'll have to stop there as we're welling up.

Every little helps (when you're multi-billionaires)

The Spice Girls are getting all the most high-class gigs now they're back, aren't they? Well, if advertising low-rent supermarkets is a high-class gig, that is.

Apparently they're seen enjoying a Christmas feat in the ads, a hilarious concept in Beckham's case. And there's more from a 'source': "The ads are very funny because the girls insisted it had to be a send-up."

Hmm, well we'll reserve judgment on that until we've seen them, but we're not exactly expecting Peter Cook-esque comic genius. The main amusing aspect is really that they insisted it be a send-up in the first place - presumably so they can pretend it's just a bit of a laugh, and advertising Tesco is never something they'd do seriously, for serious megabucks. No girls, of course it isn't.

Yay! Bad news for Chris Moyles!

Excellent! Rajar figures show that fat misogynist 'Saviour' Chris Moyles' listeners are dropping him like he's hot. Which he is so not.

On the downside, these figures also confirmed 'Dr' Neil Fox as the most popular commercial breakfast Deej in London. Still, clouds and silver linings and all that.

Jordan more popular than free chocolate — OFFICIAL

Celebritish's daily stroll along High Street Kensington was brought to rather an abrupt halt this afternoon by an impassable crowd of onlookers outside Superdrug. Seriously, the crowd was so big and intense that Celebritish almost got stuck in it.

What could this be, we wondered, intrigued by the possibilities. Maybe Prince or some other genius is giving an impromptu performance? Or perhaps Jesus has returned to the earth to save us all? Then we noticed the carpet was pink. So, not purple enough for Prince and a bit too gay for Jesus. But perfect for... Jordan, who was there promoting some cosmetic crap (OK, our research in this area wasn't that studious).

Last week there was free chocolate for Chocolate Week in some of the High Street's shops, and barely any crowds formed for that at all. Chocolate is clearly better and more nutritious than Jordan, so what is going on? And who are these people who waited in the rain for a glimpse of a person the right-thinking among us try our level best to avoid glimpsing at ever? We demand to be told!

PR Prize Of The Day!

Today the prize has to go to the bright spark who decided to parade a bikini-clad racist, holding skis and wearing a russian hat infront of a tank. I mean on paper that sounds ridiculous, but once you see the pictures you realise you're witnessing the creation of a modern day Mona Lisa or at least that bird with a pearl earring.
Credit to Ski Republic for the creative vision!

Rush of razor to the head *gets coat*

We're all for skinheads at Celebritish but there really is no need to look so smug is there?

Quickie in the afternoon? No, no, no.

No more hair of the dog for Wino, (and we're not talking about the canine pelt used in her wigs) she's given up drinking before gigs in the hope that it will improve her live performances.
Obviously this new life is treating her well, she looks radiant and cheerful in the picture (above) from Munich yesterday.
The problem with her and Pete becoming clean(er) is that people only ever liked them because they were dangerous and unpredictable, take that away and you have a shy little boy (Doherty) and a lost girl with a nice voice (Winehouse). Sadly I think they'll get back on the good stuff as soon as they realise their careers depend on it.
On a lighter note, perhaps Amy is starting to avoid booze because she's read David "I’d lick Amy's tooth that’s missing by sticking my tongue in between the gap and everyone knows I’ve got a good tongue.” Gest is now frequenting her local!

Oh My God!!!??!@@!!

*shoots head off with shotgun*
Ropey, anorexic, perma-tanned, fuck-for-brains Chantelle from Big Brother (not to be confused with Chanelle from Big Brother) has just announced that she has become a millionaire. She's earned £925,000 in a year thanks to the public's utterly unfathomable interest in her dull life.
One little nugget of information in the story that makes Celebritish feel terribly sick is that her and Preston earned £600,000 for the rights to their wedding. This puts the editor of OK Magazine on the level of Hitler in our humble opinion.
The problem with Chantelle is that the longer she's famous, the less likeable she becomes. Sadly it's a matter of waiting for her to become so repulsive that the general public finally cotton on.

Cheryl Cole's bloodlust

The world of forensic science must today be cursing the misfortune that prevented Cheryl Cole from joining its ranks.

Yes, the pretty (vacant) popstrel declared that, had she not joined the 'Loud, she would have been a forensic detective. Well, obviously. Her reason? "I find it fascinating - like which way the blood is spattered and stuff."

Frankly, we've seen Cheryl interviewed, and are amazed that she can remember her own name and song lyrics, so the idea of her solving murder mysteries seems, well, a little unrealistic.

Still, she's certainly living up to her Wag status - that gave us all a good laugh and no mistake!

Calm down, Kwame, it's only a play

The Old Vic is putting on its 24 Hour Plays thang again this year, where some luvvies present six new plays within 24 hours for charidee. Luvvies participating this year include Fiona Shaw, Samuel West and Kwame Kwei-Armah.

Kwame seems to be a little confused about the nature of the event, though, bless him. He tells the Evening Standard: "It's a blood sport. It's not until the audience sees the blood on the floor that they realise the swords are sharp."

Um no, Kwame, it's not a blood sport, if it was the luvvies wouldn't be touching it with a barge pole. It's a collection of plays that, regardless of the talent, are bound to be second-rate at best owing to a ridiculous self-inflicted time restraint. So get a grip!

Not a nice View

Apparently, those cheeky chappies The View started a fight in a Manchester night club on Saturday. The nasty little rotters took offence to the DJ, um, playing one of their own songs. Well, we also take offence when DJs play The View's songs, but we're not IN THE BAND (for which we thank our lucky stars daily).

We'd like to reassure The View that in, ooh, about three months, they won't be facing this problem any more.

Pete wants cake — sorry, Kate

Pete Doherty has reportedly dumped his girlfriend Irina Lazareanu. He kicked her to the curb for making a nuisance of herself, apparently. Jeez, you burgling ear-botherer, it takes one to know one.

Apparently "supermodel" Irina (all models are "super" these days, it seems) was following Pete round "like a bad smell" — we hear that a bad smell also follows Pete round like a bad smell, but somehow it doesn't put the chicks off.

Anyway, he's pining for La Moss again, predictably — but will she want him now he's exchanged The Drugs for copious quantities of lard pies? The world waits with baited breath.

Wool wool wool.... another Xmas no 1 contender

News reaches us that kiddies' favourite Shaun the Sheep is releasing a Christmas single.

Well, we say Shaun the Sheep, but Vic Reeves, as the voice of the feem toon, is heavily involved.

It's called Life's a Treat, which is a lovely sentiment we think — though one that doesn't ring all that true in the grim cold greyness of an English winter. Still, kids are ridiculously buoyant creatures aren't they and they don't care about that sort of thing.

We think it would be great for an actual sheep to kick the butt of whichever human sheep "triumphs" in the X Factor, but Vic's advice to the little lamb on stardom is a bit on the dull side. The funnyman says: "I have warned Shaun that if he gets to the top of the charts, he needs to keep his hooves on the ground."

Oh come now, we'd love him to go crazy with stardom and get papped rolling pie-eyed out of the Groucho with Sienna Miller (and, on current evidence, he seems just her type).

Ziggelle to get hitched

News of yet another celebrity wedding to look forward to (read: take the piss out of) as Chanelle and Ziggy are engaged. While some people think their relationship is based on exclusives with OK! magazine, we think this will be a beautiful and subtle ceremony which is all about the love between two vacuous nobodies. Chanelle is already getting herself moist in anticipation, with talk of Beckham-style thrones and Scottish castles.
While we like the idea of ripping off celebrity weddings we'd much prefer Chaniggy to replicate the Anthea Turner and Grant Bovey Cadburys-Snowflake-Specatacular. That was pure class.

Brand for Mayor

At Celebritish towers we're backing Samanda for Mayor but we've just heard that Russell Brand is now going to be throwing his dinkle into the ring to battle it out with Boris and Ken.
So far, his policies need some work - making Hampstead the capital of London isn't even funny - but he would at least inject yet more fun into the election (if that is possible with Bumbling Boris around) and make Ken look even more like the annoying, whining twat he is.

Not the sharpest tool in the shed, still a potential death trap

We at Celebritish aren't sure we trust the idea of Dean Gaffney behind the wheel of one of those little toy cars you can pay for rides on outside supermarkets — let alone a real car with, y'know, a motor, mobility and consequences.
And today we were proved right, as Guildford magistrates shook their venerable heads at Gaffers' catalogue of errors. Apparently the ex-Ender was weaving around at 98mph in roadworks while blithely chatting shit into his mobile. Nice one, Dean! Breaking almost every rule in the book in true don't-give-a-fuck style! Despite being nothing if not a repeat offender in the world of dangerous driving, Gaffney was let off with a measly fine, and didn't even turn up to hear his punishment, the complacent imbecile. Get him off the roads we say - the campaign starts here!

Take That pickin' up bad gyrations

A wonderful little story reaches us about an airport worker becoming over excited when Take That jetted into Heathrow
The lady in question "gyrated wildly" in their faces and shrieked "I love you" while they became increasingly agitated.
Being devilishly handsome, we at Celebritish are used to this kind of reaction when we walk into a room but we're always polite enough to smile and offer a kind word, perhaps TT should count themselves lucky that they still have fans who get excited, after all, It Only Takes A Minute (geddit?!) to sign an autograph. Also, they should bear in mind that gyrating wildly and shrieking "I love you" are essentially the foundations upon which their early career was built.

Rugby-related post!

Celebritish spent Saturday night trying to find a pub that wasn't showing the Rugby as we are allergic to sport, but we can't help feeling for Jonny Wilkinson. The poor guy just lost the World Cup so he went out to drown his sorrows only to be ambushed by a posh, ginger twat with a penchant for swastikas and his goofy brother.
Harry and his braying chums were said to be "well-oiled" and were amused by a sign on the wall saying "Excessive alcoholic drinks harm your health. Consume in moderation." What japes!
Perhaps "You don't have to be crazy to drink here, but it helps" would be more appropriate for the try-hard Royal?

Pete Doherty is "good"

With a judicial system like this, it's no wonder the world is going to hell in a handcart.

A judge who decided to let the newly sober Pete head over to Paris for a concert last week has turned out to be a fan of the ex-druggy, commenting that Doherty's song The Blinding has "a good tune".
The judge in question is probably going through a mid-life crisis (or maybe he's deaf) but the fact he let his opinion of a Doherty track influence his judgement is akin to freeing the "swirly paedophile" for being good at Photoshop.

Jordan: who'll take her up the aisle (again, yawn)

Jordan and Peter Andre are set to renew their wedding vows in a second extravaganza of tack.

Apparently Jordan was too depressed to enjoy the ceremony last time (yeah, you and the rest of the world, love).

Seems a bit unfair that, while mere mortals have to face years of penury if they want a half-decent nuptial ceremony, the tangerine-hued twosome will of course be making a wodge of cash from walking down the aisle again for no sensible reason.

Still, have to admit I'm looking forward to it — if she can top the My Slutty Barbie Monstrosity pink dress from last time, those picture deals will be worth the money...

More genuine, un-stage-managed drama from The X Factor...

So, apparently we lost all kinds of The Sport this weekend, and there was some horrible massacring in Kurdistan, but all this pales into insignificance when set against the "shocking" news of Sharon Osbourne walking off The X Factor because she couldn't decide between her acts Alisha Bennett and Kimberley Southwick .

She could've saved herself a lot of trouble if she had simply faced the cold reality that they're both pretty lame and even if Alisha, who's through to the next round, managed by some miracle to ace the final, her career would never make it past the obligatory tacky Xmas number one.

Also, Sharon, you get paid handsomely to do your rather easy job, so face your responsibilities like a grown-up and stop setting a bad example to your young viewers, you pathetic woman!

It's not exactly Dr Who John, is it

We like John Barrowman here at celebritish. He's handsome, witty, and has a refreshing enthusiasm for showing everyone his penis at any given opportunity. So all in all, not a likely contender to become the next Noel Edmonds.

So, why is he doing this?

Typically brilliant original thinking from the Beeb here - this show sounds absolutely nothing whatsoever like Noel's new Sky One show Are You Smarter Than A Ten Year Old. You can see why the ridiculous number of staff were being paid ridiculous wads of cash now can't you. Public service broadcasting at its best.

Giving you what now?

News reaches Celebritish that the Spice Girls are making a documentary for the BBC. It's going out on BBC One on November 2, the same day that the Beeb are giving new vid Headlines (Friendship Never Ends) its first airing.

Evil genius Simon Fuller describes the show as "the story of the greatest pop phenomenon since The Beatles, in their own words". But Si, it's about The Spice Girls, not Michelle McManus, so what you chattin' about bro?

It's called The Spice Girls: Giving You Everything. Including the flu, a headache and syphilis, presumably.

The Unexpected Cast

It looks like we're going highbrow today at Celebritish doesn't it! First a story about Jeffrey Archer and now a post related to the theatre.
Fear not though, for this is a z-list supreme.

Richard Blackwood and Dean Gaffney have just signed up to star in Agatha Christie's, "The Unexpected Guest", at the Hackney Empire.
I've fired up my z-list story creating machine but it just can't compete with this.
So far they're down for a 4 night residency, which is a little ambitious in my opinion, after all it isn't even for charity.
In those heady days of 2001 when Richard released the often neglected reggae-lite classic "Mama-Who da Man?" i'm sure he had nightmares about this.

Buy tickets here!

Archer's overdue realisation

A press release has reached Celebritish Towers about a very exciting TV programme – um., sorry, about Jeffrey Archer hauling his criminal old ass over to Legal TV (no, us neither) for an interview about new book Cat o' Nine Tails. Apparently, this literary masterpiece is based on the people Archie befriended in prison. Poor loves, being befriended by Jeffrey Archer is
a cruel and unusual punishment in itself — Gitmo's surely missing a trick here?

Anyway, the interesting thing about this interview is that Jeffrey makes a shocking revelation during it!

"I am not a writer."

Well, Jeff, could've told you that many years ago and saved the literary world a whole lot of wincing pain, but at least you've finally realised. And I'm choosing to ignore the fact you follow up that admission with "I am a story-teller" because no you're
not, you couldn't write your way out of a Hollyoaks episode, you goon.

Fashion Rocks

Last night, london was rocked (geddit) by the celebrity "do" of the year.
The good, the bad and the ugly (Johnny Borrell) were in town to celebrate...erm to help...to party?... What were they doing anyway? Who cares, just look at who rocked (geddit?!??) up the red carpet:

Check YOU out! Those handsome young scamps Razorlight dazzled in TK Maxx:


George Clooney is sooo yesterday. This season it's all about unfunny comedians with speech impediments!


Wondering whether you should take your husband or wife to a big celeb do? There just isn't enough time, honey! Pete tears up the red carpet with his husband AND wife!


Big girl, you are beautiful! Beth Ditto is the bomb in a homemade creation. A spy tells me its made of bin liners and glitter!


Iggy Pop sure knows how to make an entrance! This time he stole the show with the slightly deflated blow-up doll he brought along!

Robbie's feeling bummed.

Ooh that Robbie Williams, he is a naughty boy. When asked by TMZ what he'd been up to in his time 'out of the limelight' (for which read 'fading inexorably into obscurity and oblivion'), he answered 'w***ing, shooting herion and bum sex'.

Off-the-cuff humour, or a poignantly rare moment of honesty from the joke from Stoke?

There's just no way of knowing. Isn't he an enigma?

('No' - The World)

Pot calls kettle black, world keeps spinning.

Kerry Katona from the Iceland adverts and Atomic Kitten (whoever they are) has decided the British public are desperately in need of some more of her wise words.
This time she punched above her weight and went for Victoria Beckham, saying poor old Vicky is "sad and desperate". Remember Kerry selling her "my boyfriend cheated on me with my mum but I don't care cos I hate them" story to OK Magazine? Apparently that isn't "sad and desperate", and no, it isn't even tragic as most people would assume.
Miss Katona continues:
"Sometimes I find it very hard to understand Victoria Beckham."
Jesus Kerry, getting your tits out in The Sun at 16 probably isn't the best education in the world but you of all people should understand the need for publicity, you're in the same machine as Victoria and you'd give away your own children to be married to David Beckham and live in Los Angeles.

Alex Turner's monkey tragic

Lite reports that Arctic Monkey and general tw@t-about-town Alex Turner humiliated Pixie Geldof last night at the Sony Walkman Hidden House party in Dalston.

Pixie apparently took a shine to the singer and displayed this in her uniquely subtle way
("positioning herself right in front of him and trying a few dance moves", apparently). But he totally
blanked her, leaving the poor little thing "mortified".

Now now, Alex, manners. Reluctance to converse with a Geldof sister (or indeed a Geldof father) is a healthy
and commendable impulse, but blanking people is just plain unpleasant. It could be worth remembering that,
were you not frontman of an overrated but catchily-tuneful pop band, the chicks would not exactly be beating the doors down to get their hands on your lanky, pasty frame. A bit more humility please!

Where are they now?

In this, the first of an irregular series, we blow the dust from our vintage copies of Heat magazine and bring you updates on the whereabouts of celebrities from yesteryear.



Daniel Bedingfield [Da-neel Bed-in-feel] Pronunciation

1. has an annoying sister
2. whines like a girl when dumped.
3. writes power ballads with prowess
4. has got to get through this.
[Origin: 2001]

I recieved a press release today from a someone called Ilana in which was a piece of information so amazing that I had to catch my breath.

"Music Box - 2Play album launch party
Le Pigalle Club, 215-217 Piccadilly, London, W1
Daniel Bedingfield, 2Play
Co-hosts and plays low-key set (Bedingfield) at launch celebrating dance act's (2Play) latest album..."

Thats right, after years in the wilderness, Daniel is returning to play a concert helping to launch someone called 2Play (perhaps the dance act in question had discovered 4Play already taken?).

Quite why Bedders picked this event to make his comeback is unclear but I think we can rest assured that "low-key" will mean he'll be wearing ripped jeans and will be accompanied by a classical guitarist. Lets hope he's still up to the job and can wrestle back the Bedingfield crown from his vile sister Natasha.

Joe

Wouldn't some candles have been sufficient, guys?

I don't know about you, but when I'm celebrating a significant birthday, what I really like to do is blow
some stuff up. Preferably some stuff with people inside. Maybe I missed my calling as an Emmerdale
producer!

Seriously, though, Emmerdale making it to 35 this week is worthy of note - it's a peculiarly British institution, a career-reviving home for down-on-their-luck Brit celebs, and it still has enough pasty, lumpen fools in it to do a pretty good impression of a real English town. Hale to the 'Dale!

Cheryl spits the dummy

Why can't Cheryl Cole just play nice? Moments after ending one of the world's most boring catfights by telling Lily Allen she 'forgives' her, the naughty little poppet steps up her Betty Boo bitchfest.

She told Metro's Andrei Harmsworth: "If you are a true fan I beg you not to write about Betty Boo because she is s***." Ooh dear, naughty Andrei, I suppose he's just proved his non-Girls Aloud fan status by printing that, then, hasn't he?

Cheryl, for future reference, make sure you don't deliver such juicy quotes to journos on subjects you don't want talked about.

Anyway, what's got up Cheryl's dainty little nose is Betty's 'lies' about writing her some solo material. Why Betty (or isn't she Alison these days?) would lie about this is unclear...

So Betty, where are you baby? It's time for round two! I think maybe some 'Yo Momma' battling should be employed – now that I'd pay to watch...

Kate

Wanna smell like Kelly Brook?

If you were hoping for a whiff of faint desperation from a failed Hollywood career mixed with Billy Zane's groin then i'm afraid you'll have to go elsewhere.

Kelly's perfume was launched today with a promise of an "intriguing" scent with "retro glamour" (i've never smelt retro glamour but I assume it's like Barry Manilow). Ronan Keating and Jade Goody have both launched scents in the past so Ms Brook is in fine company.

Get down to Superdrug now to secure your order.

Joe

Two of Britain's greatest musicians...

...together at last

News reaches Celebritish Towers today that Pete Doherty and Amy Winehouse have recorded a song together.

It gets worse, apparently the ditty is a "ska-type track" which Amy sings and plays guitar on. Even more worrying is that the guitarist who is giving this tantalising insight into the future classic, says "she plays [acoustic guitar] better than James Brown". We can safely assume the studio is fully stocked with illegal substances and this girl has been tucking in, but surely a professional guitar player would know James Brown was less famous for his fretwork than he was for his footwork (and I suppose singing - at a push).

Mischa has landed herself the role of a lifetime...

Mischa Barton (dual-nationality since you asked) has just completed filming for "Finding Tatu" and it has to be seen to be believed.
The premise of the film is:
"Two teenage girls, Janie who is American and Lana who is Russian, fall in love after meeting at a t.A.T.u concert and are swept into a dangerous world of obsession, drug abuse and murder."
Move over Pinter.

In 50 years time, when your grand children are sitting on your knee and ask you what your greatest memory of the 21st century was, I'd like to think the reply will be: "Well World peace breaking out was pretty cool, but nothing ever beat 'Finding Tatu' starring OC hottie Mischa Barton."

Joe

Not so Keane?

"La la, la la, I can't hear you Britney"

It seems that stadium indie rockers "Keane" are getting too big for their boots.
The band have refused to write a song for Britney Spears on the grounds that they "wouldn't want to dilute [their] level of musical quality", also stating they want to "retain their dignity".

This is coming from the band of Tom fucking Chaplain, the man so dignified he sells his rehab stories to Sunday tabloids. Get over yourself you moron, the only way your musical quality could be diluted any more is with industrial turps.