Channelling the spirit of Gwyneth Paltrow, Albarn mentioned
everyone in the world he’d ever met, and their parents, repeatedly
turning his back on the audience to point out where they were
sitting. ITV should have had a live band there to drown him
out, or to fire a few knock-out blow-darts from the wind section.
You waited in vain for Brandon Block or Jarvis Cocker to stage
an intervention. At least Blur were a bit lairy, if ramshackle
and under-rehearsed. They had Phil Daniels too. Yeah, Kevin
Wicks was raised from the dead. Mercifully they stopped before
Pauline Fowler followed him back through the ether.
The Brits used to be pop’s great gift to rhyming slang. It’s
still a long way from professional – as the bozos and show-oafs
wandering in front of the camera during Corden’s live links
illustrated. But pop’s annual beano now suffers for being too
corporate and bland. Maybe that’s why Ed Sheeran appeared in
fancy dress, to compensate for his lack of personality. The
red-hair, the green shirt... he’d come as a leprechaun. Only
at the end of his rainbow, there’s probably a pot of pot...
which George Michael looked like he’d sampled.
The whole night lacked spark. Jenson Button and Cesc Fabregas
brought nothing to the party. And Adele aside, the UK stars
depressed. Starting the show with wrist-slitting Coldplay is
like kicking off a stag do with Leonard Cohen. The rest was
Brits by numbers: Florence for the NME crowd, Olly and Wand
Erection for X Factor kids... r’n’r content, next to zero. The
bland leading the bland.
*THERE’S nothing like winning a Brit to guarantee decades
of fame and creativity. Just think of Terence Trent D’Arby.
*Unreliable Brits fact: Noel Gallagher’s eyebrows? Caterpillars.
TO Whitechapel, where the streets are full of psychotic master-criminals
tirelessly re-enacting historical abominations. The Ripper,
the Krays, Victorian poisoners... the killers have researched
them all meticulously to pull off copy-cat crimes for reasons
the writers haven’t wanted to bother our pretty little heads
about. Facing them are posh-boy DI Joseph Chandler, a twit so
uptight he can’t even deduce that every women he meets fancies
the pants off him; his hard-bitten DS Ray ‘Gertcha’ Miles. And
oddball ‘Ripperologist’ Edward Buchan, who now has an office
the size of three squash courts in the cop-shop basement. Belief,
like logic, is strained. In one recent episode, the killer was
a builder who hid inside the walls of houses he was working
on in order to murder the residents. Hmm. Have you ever met
a builder who can go ten minutes without making a phone call
or popping out for a fag? Despite that, the show is stylish
hokum. And I look forward to them re-creating other past East
End villains, like Spring-heeled Jack or that notorious hit-man
who, back in 1989, brutally gunned down Dennis Watts with a
bunch of daffs.
AT Downton Abbey the cast assemble in the dining room around
a remarkable electronic device. Carson: “May I have a word,
m’lord?” Earl: “Can’t it wait Carson? We’re watching Upstairs
Downstairs.” Dowager Duchess: “Not very good is it? This Sir
Hallam character appears to have been carved from a large piece
of teak.” Lady Mary: “Even I wouldn’t.” Dowager: “They’ve done
away with Lady Maud, who was absolutely the best thing in it,
apart from the monkey which they’ve gassed.” Lady Cora: “Look,
Chamberlain has in his hand a piece of paper.” Dowager: “If
it’s the script he should tear it up.” Branson: “I’d point Percy
at Lady Persie but that’s about it.” Carson: “You’re out of
turn, my lad.” Branson: “Well, you have your turn; I’ll wait
for the lesbians.” Earl: “Right, enough of this. Turn it off,
Carson. We’ll watch You Rang M’Lord? instead. That’s far more
R.I.P. Frank Carson, a true gent. Frank was not to modern
taste, which means the public loved him but sniffy TV execs
did not. Is it fanciful to think that the old boy could have
produced more laughs in three minutes than 10 O’Clock Live has
in three tiresome episodes?
*THEY just found Frank’s will. Turns out his last request was
to have Whitney Houston sing at his funeral.
HOT on TV: Homeland... Modern Family (Sky1)... The Mentalist
(C5)... Kidnap & Ransom.
ROT on TV: Watson & Oliver – what’s on the other side?...
Upstairs Downstairs – moth-Eaton Place... that EastEnders hit-man
– there are harder Jocks in the Commons bar.
AFTER Haye v Chisora, EastEnders gave us another low and dirty
fight: Roxy v Derek, The Prat v The Hat. Del is so evil even
Rose West finds him creepy. Luckily he’s also about as bright
as Heather Trott in a coma. The hit-man he hired to take out
Poxy took the dosh and gave it to her instead. Now Shirley has
promised the revenge of the Mitchells. Who they? Peggy’s legged
it, Grant’s long gorn, and Phil’s been banged up in a Woking
panto (HMP Peter Pan); leaving... Billy and Ben. The Flowerpot
men were scarier.
*IS Fat-Boy just a comedy stooge now? He spent Tuesday hanging
about like a pancake waiting to be tossed.
*STARTING tomorrow: Empire. Or as Prince Philip calls it:
“See what we had and what you blasted pinko idiots threw away.”
*WITHOUT Milton on Corrie, is it beef curtains for Beef Encounters?
*TRACY Barlow celebrated “VS Day – Victory over Steve.” Let’s
hope she never falls out with Dev.
*ANDREW ‘Dice’ Clay on Joan Rivers and daughter Melissa: “Did
they ever cut the umbilical cord? Melissa’s like fifty already,
RANDOM irritations: Ed Miliband starting sentences with “I
say this” in the mistaken belief it makes him sound like a statesman.
Jimmy Carr’s laugh. CNBC dropping Leno for lightweight Jimmy
Fallon. The Brits’ insultingly token tributes to Whitney Houston
and Amy Winehouse. No-one using Whitney’s funeral to ram home
the message: crack kills.
SMALL joys of TV: Donald Trump’s hair. Phil Davis. When The
Circus Comes To Town (BBC4). Rihanna dancing in her pants.
BIG Fat Gypsy quote of the series: “I’ve got Jesus in my mouth”
– words not heard on TV since the Loose Women works outing to
*SEPARATED at Birth: Arg’s Nanny Brighton and Lou Beale, one
the long-suffering matriarch of a family of horrors... and so’s
the other one.
‘BEAVERS’ was the seven letter word on Countdown, which is
why Nick Hewer asked Ann Widdecombe: “Ann, what about you and
Susie, do you both have beavers?” Susie? Yes; Ann? Unproven.
Feb 19. WHERE better to spend Valentine’s Day than Walford,
the home of romance? Love isn’t so much blind here as borderline
psychotic. It’s hard to believe that a man who fancies the delightful
Heather Trott would turn out to have a screw loose. And yet
Monday saw an unprecedented out-break of spud rage as Andrew
hurled a boiling pan of potatoes at the kitchen floor. I’m not
sure what type they were, but I think Heather was wearing the
“Cook yer own dinner,” he told her furiously. “I can’t even
look at you right now.” (Welcome to my world...) Naturally Hev
was devastated – all that wasted grub. Andrew had been planning
an x-rated Valentine’s night in with her (well, okay, XXL-rated).
He had a list: ‘Buy ring, book restaurant, buy card, flowers.’
And over the page, no doubt, ‘Rohypnol Por Homme.’ But Hefty
Hev wrecked it all by getting mashed with Shirley the Terrahawk
instead. Oh dear. The writing is on the wall for the cheese-guzzling,
Wham-obsessed heffalump. (And the writing says: ‘acting lessons.’)
There was more heart-ache when Whitney dumped Fat-Boy for
Tyler – only to catch him at it with Lucy Beale (Loose for short).
Talk about a cock-up in the lock-up. They’re together for good
now, though, a lot like Greece and the Euro.
Most Walford women are damaged goods. The voluptuous Tanya
tried to bury Max alive, their dishy daughter Lauren is a vomiting
drunk. And the rest are bitches, snitches and in the case of
Janine, murderous witches.
The Square is like a holding pen for Bad Girls. There are
dippers, strippers, drippers, drug-trippers and tarts who deserted
their nippers. While the blokes are always mugs, lugs or thugs
heading for the jug. No wonder the course of true love runs
as smooth as a lady-boy’s chops after a week without a razor.
This is E20, where even Cupid carries a cosh... And where selfish,
sour-faced skank Shirl can see fit to give relationship advice.
It almost makes you nostalgic for Angie and her daily quart
of gin. At least Tracey is nicely turned out, can pour a pint
and generally keeps her gob shut for years at a time.
*THIS is nice, if Anthony had managed to cook those spuds
he was planning to cover them in cheese freshly grated on Mum
Rose’s scraggy neck.
*ANTHONY’S to-do list wouldn’t have tested the memory of an
absent-minded goldfish. Previous notes to himself are believed
to have included: ‘breathe’, ‘get dressed’, ‘eat’ and ‘crap’.
C4 is in hot water over Big Fat Gypsy Weddings, possibly because
there might be a few bob in claiming to be outraged by it. The
show bends over backwards to show travellers in a good light,
and never risks unsettling them with awkward questions about
PAYE or road tax. Nuptials seem to have taken a backseat to
Holy Communion this series, although the real subject matter
– teenage girls squeezing into gowns that would have seemed
OTT in the palace of Versailles - remains unchanged. You could
conceal a carthorse under some of these outfits. “It’s important
to look good for God,” said Nangirl. Maybe so, but where in
Proverbs does it say: whoso findeth a wife dressed as a pineapple
findeth a good thing?
*THOUGHT: would a woman who wed as a pineapple fritter her
A SHOCK turn of events on Spartacus, where Crixus finally
found his missing Naevia (a woman not a face cream) only to
be literally stabbed in the back by the turncoat Ashur. So that’s
Coitus and Crixus Interruptus, then. Evil Ashur tortured noble
Oenomaus close to death and then cruelly taunted him with revelations
about his dead wife’s affair. I’m going to enjoy watching this
bastard die. Sadly we didn’t get nearly enough historically
crucial scenes of Ilithya bathing and bonking (she adds a touch
of toffee-nosed class to the proceedings; think Paris Hilton
does Geordie Shore). But magnificent Mira is game as you like,
topping a sleazy slave master. And just when he thought his
own filthy weapon was going to see action, too...
*WHAT does sexy Chadra see in charmless dimbo Rhaskos? Is
it the baldness, the bad breath, the brutishness... or the fact
that he’s built like a human tripod? He’s part Biggus Dickus,
part Philus Mitchellus.
HOT on TV: Hustle finale... Katrina Law (Spartacus)... Friday
Night Lights... Luck (Sky Atlantic) – odds-on favourite.
ROT on TV: Jo Brand On Kissing – what next, Colonel Sanders
on vegetarianism?... Daddy Daycare – this Daddy don’t care...
Mad Bad Ad Show – lame, tame, game shame.
A PRETTY blonde turned into a snarling monster on Grimm, a
supernatural saga where fairy tale critters are real. So when
a girl in a red hoodie gets snatched there’s a big bad wolf-man
to blame. Hero cop Nick is a Grimm who can see through the beasts’
human disguises. And the sooner he exposes Loose Women the better.
*THE technical name for a blonde who turns into a nightmare?
*BITS of butchered women were turning up on Whitechapel, and
DI Joe got a posh new love interest. Odd though that she only
appeared when the word went round that he had a foot and a half...
*JO Brand discovered hookers who provide a ‘girlfriend experience’.
It’s not as exotic as it sounds. They just moan at you for watching
the football with the lads and stomp off to bed with a headache.
*CHLOE was turned into a sushi salad on TOWIE, although frankly
if you fancied a cold fishy roll you’d be better off with Amy.
*THAT Yank with the 38KKK boobs, do you think she’s a wizard
under the sheets?
*ON True Blood, the witches’ coven raised a bird from the
dead and then a person. Next they’ll try something really challenging
- the 10 O’Clock Live scripts.
*TOP 3 Yuckiest TV Sights: 3) Ashur slicing the mark of Batiatus
from his forearm on Spartacus. 2) Sparty running his sword through
a guard’s eye 1) Arg wobbling along a beach (TOWIE); that’s
Arg short for “Aargh, no!”
RANDOM irritations: Bafta leaving Harry Fowler and Betty Driver
out of their roll-call of the dead. TV Bafta coverage being
more concerned with frocks than films. Self-righteous smart-arse
Charlie Brooker. Smug smarm-bucket Stephen Fry. Cringe-worthy
comedy on Being Human.
SMALL joys of TV: Grimm. Polystyrene ‘gypsy’ wedding cakes.
Jockey-cam racing shots (Luck). Bill as a vampire punk (True
Blood). Jackie Mason telling Adrian Chiles: “I wouldn’t make
fun of a person because he looks bad; you notice I didn’t make
fun of you.”
SEPARATED at birth: Martin Lewis and Zachary Quinto? One a
strange alien presence, the other Mr Spock.
QUOTE of the week? Robin Cousins, talking about Jennifer Ellison’s
skating, said: “Just doing a little flick makes the whole thing
go a lot harder.” Not in my experience, but each to their own.
Feb 12. C4 satirical show 10 O’Clock Live bounced back last
week, promising to be “provocative, clever and funny.” Which
would be a first; series one delivered none of the above. It
was a case of 10 O’Clock Live, 10.05 Dead In The Water. Viewers
vanished quicker than a Cameron veto, and there was little here
to win ’em back.
Jimmy Carr’s opening monologue kicked off with a lame gag
about Fabio Capello “going back to what he does best, making
delicious if over-priced apple juice.” Copella, geddit? Groan.
Carr then heaped childish insults on John Terry, followed by
feeble half-jokes about Syria, RBS bonuses, Abu Qatada (who
he defended), and the Diamond Jubilee. The Queen he said had
asked Elton John to play ‘Candle In The Wind’ “because it always
makes her laugh.” Thirteen people credited as writers and this
is the best they can do?
The show proceeded predictably with “savage wit” (rhyming
slang) Charlton Brooker laying into the Queen some more. We
should “replace her with a cat,” he said. Be still my aching
sides. They’ve axed some regular items, but the skits are still
feeble. Tthe only funny thing about Carr as Vladimir Putin was
he looked more like Ian Lavender – stupid boy.
David Mitchell told us he hates football, again, and wheeled
on former spin-doctor Alastair Campbell to debate the beautiful
game (goodbye satire). Only Lauren Laverne challenged the prevailing
liberal group-think by pointing out that the recent spate of
banker-bashing had caused share prices to plummet. None of the
other views expressed were surprising, or ‘provocative’ or clever.
A real satirical show would have been all over the escalating
Euro crisis like JFK on a teenage mistress. A real satirical
show would forensically target our useless party leaders and
flip the finger MIA style at the genuine centres of modern power,
Brussels and Strasbourg. But this isn’t satire. It’s just a
vehicle for four over-paid, over-praised nitwits to sneer at
things the chattering class dislike. It’s smug, self-righteous,
cod-angry codswallop. At least Mark Steel and Christopher Booker
believe in something.
FUR fang’s sake, how can Being Human survive without Aidan
Turner and Russell Tovey? The show was about a vampire, a werewolf
and a ghost sharing a house – kind of This Life meets the afterlife.
Now only Annie the ghost is left, and she’s as wet as ectoplasm.
Writer Toby Whithouse has upped the, ahem, stakes by bringing
in a 25-year battle against an un-dead world take-over. The
baddies are an ancient order of vampires called the Old Ones
– think the FA with sharper false teeth. And ‘war baby’ Eve,
the fully human spawn of two rutting werewolves – George and
Nina – is destined to lead mankind’s resistance. We know this
cos Mark Williams as a slapstick vampire seer read it on antique
parchment made of human skin (the Daily Telegraph?) George sacrificed
himself to save the kid; Nina was killed off-screen - disappointing
because she irritated the hell out of me. So now Annie and werewolf
Tom have been left holding the baby messiah, with new-boy Hal
coming in to make up a new unholy trinity. If these three click,
the show has legs. If not, dust out the ‘suck’ puns.
*THE biggest downer is Whithouse’s vision of Britain in 2037.
It’s like a cross between the Terminator and downtown Syria.
So presumably we’ll have joined the Euro by then...
SOOKIE was literally away with the fairies on True Blood.
The long-suffering telepathic waitress/temptress surfaced at
a weird party full of happy elfin folk chomping on luminous
fruit. It was like a 1970s TV advert for feminine hygiene shot
by Noel Fielding with a hang-over. Or a bad acid trip – as a
fairy turned into an evil goblin before her eyes. (Usually the
gobbling on this show is more fun). She legged it, for elf &
safety reasons (sorry) back to Bon Temps where a whole year’s
passed. Now her brother’s a cop, a loon is trying to raise the
dead and her best mate Tara has become a lesbian cage-fighter.
(Well it could happen to any girl after a fling with a half-crazed
control freak vampire-rapist.) Funniest moment? Vampires Eric
and Bill hitting the campaign trail. It was like the US Republican
presidential race but slightly more human.
HOT on TV: Bomber Boys... Leverage (FX)... Madonna’s Super
Bowl spectacular... England rugby come-back... The Cricklewood
ROT on TV: Roger & Val Have Just Got In – a million viewers
just turned off... Jedward’s Big Adventure (CBBC)... BBC2’s
The Fixer – nothing like the ITV version.
*DID you see those topless women on Newsnight? The show hasn’t
exposed massive boobs like this since that Michael Howard interview.
Paxo was talking implants of course, but you did wonder whether
some weird swap was under-way and that if you switched over
to TVX Amateur you might find Theresa May airing her ministerial
*LESS than an hour after revealing her marriage was over,
Loose Women’s Denise Welch asked John Bishop: “Ever ridden a
bike?” Blimey Den, full marks for energy.
*DENISE broke down in tears on Monday. Nothing to do with
her marriage, she’d just found out that Tuesday’s guests were
Gok Wan and Caroline Quentin. Again.
*ANY truth in the rumour that husband Tim Healy decided on
a divorce after he caught her in bed with a meter reader and
she begged him not to tell the milkman?
*DAMMIT, something is ruining my enjoyment of Call The Midwife.
It’s called testosterone... My mate watched two episodes back
to back; ten minutes into the second one, even he’d dilated.
*KEVIN Bridges: What’s The Story? What’s the point? A promising
comic but just do the jokes.
*ON Whitechapel, the killer kept his murderous weapon down
his leg. Tom Jones made a career out of that. The killer was
a builder: Don’t Get Dom, Get Done.
RANDOM irritations: England sports teams having to sing the
British national anthem. Michael Moon. Metric measurements on
Call The Midwife. Dismal direction on Dancing On Ice, how many
times must we see that same aerial shot? The BBC deciding Abu
Qatada is a “radical” rather than a murderous, terror-endorsing
extremist, so what does that make Crippen, an alternative health
CELEB Maths: Andy Warhol + Fat Pat = Karl Lagerfeld.
SMALL Joys of TV: Ilithyia in the bath (Spartacus), talk about
wears the soap. Nelix on Voyager apparently choosing “the selected
works of Durex” as his favourite book. “Durex is essential,”
he said. Especially when bedding a Klingon.
*WHY does TV celebrate super-smart animals and super-dumb
*LESBIANS in the next series of Upstairs Downstairs? Strewth.
I expect they’ll spend a lot of time going downstairs.
FEB 5. BY Jupiter’s cod-piece, Spartacus is back – the slave
revolt saga where most of the uprisings happen under the toga.
The story kicked off with Spartacus: Blood & Sand although in
truth the sand didn’t get much of a look-in. It was all Blood
& Bonking, a theme enthusiastically continued in Spartacus:
Vengeance. The gladiators’ violent raid on a whorehouse orgy
brought new meaning to the term Coitus Interruptus. I’m no expert
on orgies, but even Berlusconi can’t have partied like this.
In one eye-watering scene, a tart wearing a large and suspiciously
modern-looking dildo took a male guest unexpectedly from the
rear. Strap up! That’s gotta hurt. But not as much as the geezer
who had a sword burst through his neck while he was pleasuring
himself. Not the kind of surprise shaft he was hoping for...
The real Spartacus must be spinning on his cross, and yet
there is much to enjoy about this series. It’s like Up Pompeii
meets 300 with buckets of claret and free-style swearing. Spurt
and cuss if you like. Series one ended with the glads spectacularly
slaughtering their devious master Batiatus (brilliant John Hannah).
Series two was delayed by star Andy Whitfield’s battle with
cancer, a battle he sadly lost. New guy Liam McIntyre is out
to fill the Thracian’s sandals. He looks the part but lacks
the melancholy Whitfield brought to the role. Although in fairness
he is bedding Katrina Law and that would cheer anyone up.
Sparty still wants revenge on Gaius Claudius Glaber, the creep
who sold him and his late wife into slavery. Gaius and his randy
strumpet of a missus Ilithyia – the original Lay of Ancient
Rome – take over the old Batiatus place and are stunned to find
that Lucretia (Lucy Lawless) is still around. She’d survived
the series one bloodbath ending possibly thanks to a medical
procedure known as pay negotiation surgery. Her lover Crixus
had sliced her belly open, killing their unborn child, but leaving
her alive if unhinged. Doctore is back too. While newbie Seppius
is lusting after his own saucy minx of a sister Seppia. And
if that’s not enough for you, may the gods piddle on your joyless
souls for eternity.
THERE’S a new kid on the TOWIE block: Diags, a youth so spotty
that if he ever drops off in a library he’s likely to come round
to find blind people reading his face. He’s called Diags because
he has a diagonal mouth. Neither Lauren Pope nor Georgina were
sure which way diagonal was. (Quick clue, girls: if his gob
looks like a castle arrow slit, it’s vertical.) IQs are still
in short supply in this part of Essex. Here’s Joe and Diags
discussing Georgina in their private slang: “She’s aroo”, “Arrataroo.”
Fascinating. In any normal bar, the staff would provide colouring
books and crayons to keep them quiet. The new series kicked
off with two love splits, with Arg/Lydia and Marco/Lucy taking
the traditional Mark and Lauren roles. The show is running out
of ideas, as well as viewers. Face it, “Chihuahua yoga” is no
substitute for the vajazzle.
*NEW girl Georgie claims she can get ready to go out in twenty
minutes. If I were Joey I’d be checking the old Gregory Peck
for an Adam’s apple.
BOUNCERS looked at Newport doormen dealing with the city’s
drunken flotsam and jetsam - “classy birds” with tree-trunk
legs and pot-plant IQs. Suffice to say Mr. Darcy would not find
his perfect bride here. Bouncer Joe barred one delicate flower
after finding her pleasuring her fella in the gents while taking
a dump. Not the sort of girl to take home to Mum, but grandad
might appreciate it.
* NEWPORT seems to be a Mecca for the sort of charmers who
find their way through to the X Factor auditions en route to
Jeremy Kyle. Give that trappy tracksuit twerp some backing music
and Louis Walsh would sign him on the spot.
* CELEB Maths: Craig Colton + Rik Waller = Geraint on Bouncers.
HOT on TV: Inside Job... Jane Danson (Corrie)... Mrs. Brown’s
Boys... new Spartacus.
ROT on TV: Luxury Comedy – mighty tosh... Prisoners’ Wives
– a long stretch... Raymond Blanc – horribly over-cooked.
DAVID Schneider was scary as a suspected serial killer on
Whitechapel, almost as scary as his 1980s comedy routine...but
bringing in oddball Edward as in-house police researcher stretches
credulity too far. On the plus side DS Ray Miles still brings
his boss down to earth with world weary sarcasm. “If you could
have 200 years of experience what kind of detective would you
be?” asked plummy DI Joe. “One gagging for retirement,” quipped
*NEW horror in EastEnders as we got to see scenes of Heather
Trott post-coitus. Strewth, no more please. Even George Michael
must be thinking: wake me up after she’s gone-gone.
*SO, Miss Piggy is in the country and suddenly Sharon is coming
back to EastEnders... coincidence?
HOW Brits Rocked America reminded us how British rock bands
- Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Deep Purple – ruled the roost. They
had class, power and imagination. And now we’ve got Jedward.
Well done, everyone.
*ON Dancing On Ice, Tony Gubba spotted a “modified forward
inside death spiral.” And we’ve not seen one of those since
*A WOMAN’S rare medical condition means she can sing but can’t
talk. Doctors call this Reverse Geri Halliwell Syndrome.
*THE BBC’s Great Expectations left out the humour, it’s said.
See also The Royal Bodyguard, Coming Of Age, The Stephen K.
*FACT: eventually there will come a time when everyone in
Britain has been on a TV talent show. Then we can get back to
SMALL joys of TV: Daily 7 of 9 (Voyager). Nanny Pat (TOWIE).
Bouncers – doing for Newport tourism what the Cairo away crew
did for Egyptian football. God Bless Ozzy Osbourne – illustrating
the thin line between mega-stardom and living in a cardboard
RANDOM irritations: BBC Breakfast presenters banging on about
not understanding social networking – keep up or give up. BBC’s
Putin series made by a former Kremlin PR.
TV questions: Why wasn’t This Morning’s man-eating tranny
Crystal on World’s Scariest Near Misses? If Simon Cowell spends
two hours in the bath, how long might he spend in a closet?
In My Transsexual Summer, which ones were the opposite sex?
SEPARATED at birth: Hugh Bonneville and Paul Burrell, one
Downton Abbey, the other downright shabby. One famous for concealing
objects and (Cut! – Ed)
ITV Sunday, 9.30pm: Dancing On Ice – The Skate-Off. 10pm That
Sunday Night Show – The Turn-Off.