Dear readers and Miss Kylie Minogues' lawyers, what can I say ?......SORRY !
Last week's story and picture of Kylie Minogue has created quite a stir, judging from the amount of emails we received, it seems The Insiders has indeed, over stepped the mark !
Mrs Tooty from Middlesex wrote "I am a great fan of 'The Insiders' it is so refreshing to read good, honest, clean, unbiased journalism these days, especially when we are subjected to such filth in our national newspapers, however, I must say, I was upset to see last week's picture of Kylie Minogue. My husband and I are great fans of Neighbours and only wish that Miss Minogue would come back to the series where she belongs!
P.S please can you pass on this photograph of me and my husband to Ben, he sounds like a very nice man....Tel:08091 84736949.....Sandra.
Thank you Sandra, I will certainly sleep better now knowing we have your support
H O T P A N T S . . .
Last week we published a picture of Kylie Minogue, a picture that shocked and horrified many of our readers, including my mum, better known to you and I as Miss Whiplash .
It is with deep regret, that due to unforeseen circumstances (mental illness and Miss Minogues Fat Cat Lawyers wanting £50,000 compensation) The Insiders have been forced to give our Picture Editor, Mr Edmond Chance, the boot! ( after giving him a f
ing good hiding and forcing him to pay back the money he has thieved off us over the years)
Still, life must go on, and on it does! This week for no other reason than to show off her magnificent poo creak again, news reaches me that in no way did Miss squeaky clean Minogue, show her arse off to the camera.
Apparently, her cotton love pants were air brushed out of the shot, so her shit cushions could clearly be seen on the front cover of some yuppie wank ragporn in denial .
Last night, Kylie phoned me personally from her mobile caravan.
She wept "I was a bit surprised that between doing the shoot, and the mag appearing on the shelf, my knickers got lost."
Well little Miss Muffet, whilst looking at your golden air bags on the front of this otherwise, dull mag. I too lost my knickers, however, they disappeared on my way from the newsagents to my bathroom. And believe me, there wasnt an air brush in sight.
L O R D A B O V E . . .
At last David Bowie has finally revealed what made him go berserk and start reciting the Lord's Prayer at the Freddie Mercury tribute show in 1992. He told a reporter this week :
"I didnt know if I was going to carry it out or not until that break at the end of the song - then, whoosh......I was down. I felt as if I was being transported by the situation, and that I no longer had control!
It was astounding to find that I was delivering the prayer in front of so many people without hearing a pin drop. I was so scared, as I was doing it, I felt the 'jaw drop quotient' fill the stadium.
Im not surprised you could hear a pin drop, David, as you clearly had your head rammed firmly up your arse hole that day. Not since Jesus tried to pull the same trick at Friar Tuck's stag night, has the Lord's Prayer been responsible for bringing an old mans career to a grinding halt. Its almost as if it puts a voodoo on anyone who speaks it out aloud.
After you read the Lord's Prayer to a stadium of bottom strokers eight years ago, your records began selling as well as mince at a vegan BBQ. Jesus career also suffered the same fate as his DIY handbook Four Nails and Two Planks of Wood and his keep fit video both failed to sell more than 4 copies each.
M A N P O W E R. . .
Looks as if King Lesbo Mel C, aint from the land of lesboz after all.
No, this week her boyfriend, and singing ferret J from Five, broke the story exclusively to me from his council flat in Swindon, that the two mime artists are very much in love.
J told me: "I can tell you, she stayed at my flat last night, and honestly, it wasnt just a cheap publicity stunt.
Were both Northern and have a great sense of humour. I can talk to her about anything, I feel that Mel understands me and knows what really makes me tick! ( it wouldnt be a blow job from the other Four would it J?)
We seem to share the same interests, we both like cross dressing, sometimes I borrow her Spice outfits and we pretend I am Baby Spice, she in turn dresses up as Bryan from Westlife, I can quite honestly say that there is never a dull moment when we are together!
These stories of doing it in front of the camera, piss me off. Mel C is my girlfriend, this is not a PR stunt, although we are due to split as soon as our albums are released."
Read between the lines. Hes gay, and shes still a Dick Van Dyke.
O M O T H E R . . .
Talk about a Lesbian Avalanche. This week every drinker from the furry cup of pop is going Loco in a desperate attempt to boost their dead as a Do-Do career.
And guess which beaver cleaner has jumped on the Lesbo Express without a pink ticket? Well, its none other than Sinead No hit since 1990 O Conner. Yep, weve got a live one!
Sinead broke the news to me exclusively from a Womens yoga festival.
She told me "I am a lesbian, I have not been comfortable with that fact until recently. I have striven to be straight and to hide myself. But I have failed miserably with men. I love men, but I prefer romantic relationships with women. Im sorry, but at least Im outing myself."
So there you have it, the whole pop apple is riddled with gay pips. Can I just say that I can completely understand where Sinead is coming from. I too prefer sex with women, but thats because Im a six foot blonde Love bomb who like my father, is hung like a donkey. (Yes, my father was hung like a donkey. It was Spain 1983, when he was caught shop lifting!)
God, if this Lesbian flood carries on at this rate, next theyll be telling me KD Lang is queer!
A I R B R U S H . . .
Jesus Christ, there are some jobs in pop I would quite literally die for
But this week, one job has hit me right between the eyes. Yep, Id love to be Billies very own personal photographer. Just listen to the classic lines she came out with at a recent photo shoot for Old Gits Monthly.
First she pops up with " Feel free to Air brush my nipples if they fall out!" Lord, she certainly knows how to bring a young kettle to the boil And if that wasnt enough, she then announces "Do you want me on my knees?" Lord, there she blows!
Any time you need me to talk dirty whilst you roll around in a bikini, honey, Im your man.
Im very hands on, Id love to experiment with one of my flashes which normally happens when you least expect it. (Usually after the shoot)
Ive still got my pin hole camera and Ive had years of experience photographing young girls in my attic, although they do tend to come out looking slightly 'under developed'.
M A D A M S I N . . .
If theres one thing I love more than a night in with nothing more than a greased toilet tube, its the hideous sight of a top pop celeb doing their bit for charity whilst been paid mega bucks by some glossy mag just to pose with a poor African street child, who is so poor, that he has to use both his legs for fire fuel.
This week I can bring you an exclusive under cover story involving that singing Burger King employee Martine McCutcheon. In April this year, old horse face went to Ethiopia to do some charity work for Water Aid. (Basically Martine had to hand out loads of water to poor kids from her plush hotel room, but instead, she drank the whole lot).
However, whilst Martine posed happily with starving children, as if to say, look theyre dying, but Im here so theyll be alright ! the reason most of the poor little monkeys were looking so happy was because Martine wasnt just handing out water, Oh No!
I know this may be hard to believe, but lets just say she was handing out blow jobs to every street urchin, in every mud hut throughout the village. Children that had never walked, were suddenly running freely from every street corner in town. Children who were once blind, could suddenly see! It was a living miracle. She was like a prostitute version of Mother Teresa. Thank the Lord a young white, African street beggar, known to the locals as Mr Hill was also suffering from a crippling disease, that needed a lot of attention.
Lets just say, they were still trying to re-build the roof of my mud hut as I left Sunny Africa behind. I was quite literally blown away by the whole experience. Thank you Martine, you made a lot of us street children very happy. Next time, sod the water, the more thirsty we are, the harder thou shall blow.
O N E 4 T H E R O A D. . .
II knew it, I ruddy well knew it. Like my Grandmother in a pink swim suit, I could see this coming a mile off. Yep, Bobby Brown is an alcoholic.
Speaking to me exclusively from an AA convention (where he was trying to see if his membership covered breakdowns whilst pissed at the wheel of a combine harvester) Bobby 'broke down and sobbed uncontrollably as he told me of his booze hell.
He told me : "I have a disease, I am an addict, I am an alcoholic."
Never one to let my close friends wallow in their own sewage, I invited Bobby out for a drink that very evening, and lets just say the Horse and Rat hadnt seen a night like it in years. We drank the place dry!
However, the night ended on a low, as Bobby was arrested in the car park whilst urinating on a police car.
Now seeking rehab treatment whilst in the Joseph Conter Detention Center in Florida, Bobby has used his time to come clean about his problems: "Its been tough not seeing my family, but now hopefully, I can get back to what I do best
.uh, oh yes
singing and dancing. The day I get out, is the day I start working!"
All I can say Bobby is, I hope they throw away the key.
From last week's merger story. Yes its official Universal has issued an objection to the £20bn Warner/EMI merger. They know theres little they can do to stop it, but hey, why not delay the inevitable and have a laugh along the way.
Heir Fuller's Aryan Youth - S Club 7 - are further spreading their social virus with the help of the UK's Ministry of Communications - BT.
Wait for it...Simon and BT have agreed a joint venture deal to create a new magazine TV Show for ITV. Yes its true...we can now look forward to SClubTV on Sunday mornings from mid September.
The show will act as a showcase for S Club 7 - the innocent victims of Fuller's world domination plot - and as a launch pad for each members solo careers.
Are there no limits to this mad man's delusions? For your own good please ease off a little. Its quite Simple Simon, remember history is there for a reason.
Now heres an idea. Lets get the - drugged up - Ibiza summer camp kids to take their mobile wap (crap) phones to Ibiza this year by offering a completely biased - whats happening on the island - club guide.
WorldPop and Essential have got it all 'Pete Tong' this time, in their desperate attempt to come up with a good idea.
Mobile Phones, the punters might have, WAP Phones a few might have, take them they might, use them to find out whats going on is much less likely. Especially as the wap information on offer is going to concentrate on events being promoted by or associated with...yes youve guessed...the very same people who offer you the dumb idea in the first place.
Im sure after the event we will all be told what a great success it was and how it changed the Ibiza club scene in 2000, but those 'who know' will know a dumb idea when they see one. Dont be fooled.
It is with great sadness to inform our readers, that this weeks has seen another pop union come to a grinding halt. A few weeks ago, it was Billie and that freak from Five. Now its turn for Boyzones chief brick layer Shane Lych and pop legend Esther Bennet.
Friends tell me their marriage hasnt been the same since Esther caught Shane humping the arse off her sister, just weeks after hed admitted that he was the father of her mothers child. ( which makes him her brother doesnt it?)
Last night, I exclusively spoke to Shane as he ate alone at Dublins very own Harvester.
(I know a lot of you out there have difficulty reading let alone reading between the lines, so Ive done my best to translate Shanes emotionall ramblings for you.)
Physically the marriage is over. ( I wasnt getting the good stuff, so its over)
We are still emotionally involved, but it just aint working and Im afraid weve separated. Its difficult to see any way back. (Im still gagging for sex, but she aint having any of it).
I dont want to comment on matters like divorce because thats a personal issue for Esther and me. (Well be divorced by the end of the week. I just wasnt getting enough sex.)
Bob Geldof is cracking up. This week he thinks that old kinky sex monkey Michael Hutchence is coming back to haunt him. I know it sounds odd, but the night after Hutchence's suicide, I saw him standing in the doorway. I think it was probably a plumber, Bob, who got the wrong address. Now go back to sleep trampy..
Madonna has finally got some fashion sense. She was spotted rummaging through the rails in Oxfam. She came out with a blue top for £7.00. The last time I shopped at my favorite shop, I came out with two pairs of flares and a Kevin Keegan record. And the cost ? Not a penny, Its called shop lifting, what those starving little bunnies dont know about wont hurt them, will it !
Still swinging at 60, is there no stopping this Sex Bomb Its official, Tom celebrated his 60th birthday this week, making him a bona fide bus-pass sex god.
This year Mr Jones was treated like the Second Coming as he accepted the best Male Vocalist award at the Brits, where he performed an astonishing sexy duet with Robbie Williams, who for a moment regained all the Rent-Boy raunchiness he had with Take That.
Tom Jones: The Biography, (written by Robin Eggar £17.99 ) tells us things about Jones that only a mother should know:
Tom never uses condoms and since Aids has been happy merely to have oral sex, if it were not for the fact that Joness beloved mother, Freda, is guarded from all things seedy by her son.
He even turned down the lead in The Stud rather than offend her: I dont mind swearing to emphasize something, but just to throw words in for no other reason is another matter, ( bollocks !)
Such primness sits rather attractively and paradoxically on a man as famous for sex as for singing, who was once accused by a jealous Elvis Presley of wrapping socks around his genitalia to create that distinctive bulge.