And so, I thought I would give a little look at what’s in the papers. It will give our non-UK cousins a chance to get a flavour of the Nation that spawned an empire. In light of this grand aspiration, it is only proper that I use the finest daily publication as my source of news. I speak of course of The Sun:

Starting on a cultural high point, the paper has very patriotically commemorated 300 years of the Treaty of Union between England and Scotland by showcasing “our countries’ gorgeous girls.” It makes a proud Briton’s heart swell to know that the treaty that ended centuries of war, and created one of the leading nations is marked in such a way.

Speaking as a Scotsman of sorts (born in Aberdeen, so that’s enough for me), I am slightly let down by the collection of “tartan totty.” I mean is it really the best we can offer to have Sheena Easton, Lulu, and Lorraine Kelly in the top 10?  And I thought Isla Fisher was Australian (though I may be wrong). I haven’t voted in The Sun’s online poll, but I suspect that the Scots may have to take the runner’s up medal in this one. I’m surprised that they didn’t put Wee Jimmy Krankie in for good measure!

OOH!!! My favourite silicon brain-fart is in the news again, and once more it’s courtesy of poor little… ok, poor lardy… Harvey. The good news is that he’s out of hospital. I must have been working or something when the shock admission to hospital was on the news, as I now feel ashamed for not sending him a get well soon card. Apparently, the 4 year old, partially sighted, disabled child suffered majot burns to his leg. How did he get such injuries? he climbed into a bath and turned on a hot tap, scolding himself in the process.

Once again, to avoid any undue suggestion I’m a heartless bastard, i don’t have a go at harvey because of his condition. However, I do wonder about the high standard of care clearly shown by whoever is probably paid to look after the little mite when he’s not being photgraphed for Heat magazine. Indeed, his injuries were made worse by the fact “his rescuer” (no mention of WHO that actually was… interesting) pulled his jeans off and tore the skin off his leg.

Meanwhile, in the Celebrity Big Brother House, the model who’s shagging terry Sheringham had the misfortune of her top falling down to reveal her bra during a task. The funniest thing was a comment on digital spy saying that she must be devastated at the embarassment. I suspect she’ll get over it, probably by doing a topless photo shoot when she rejoins society.

Girls Aloud star Nadine Coyle’s flat was gatecrashed by a gang of cocaine dealers, looking for a safehouse to store their drugs. The only reason I mention this one really is that it gives me a chance to pass on old information I had that one of the girl-group used to shag the dearly departed Manchester gangster Dessie Noonan. It’s probably for my own good that I can’t remember which girl it was (I expect she has rather good libel lawyers to hand), but I have good authority that Noonan (stabbed to death by his crack dealer a couple of years ago) was once a close acquaintance.

The crowning story HAS to be “My Sex Tape Nightmare” by Keeley Hazell. Now, Ms Hazell is a Page 3 girl, and has probably got her baps out more times in the last 12 months than I’ve had pies. Unfortunately for her, an ex-boyfriend has released a 10 minute video of the pair up to something (The Sun is surprisingly sparse on details), together with still images from the tape “to a downmarket newspaper.”

Hold on there… The Sun, scandel-mongering tabloid rag that it is can class another paper as “downmarket”? That’s even more entertaining that Keeley’s quote that “Now I feel I have no dignity left.”

So what lessons can we learn from these stories?

1. Don’t leave toddlers alone where they can scold themselves

2. If you’re a glamour model and have taken a camcorder on holiday to tenerife, think twice about letting the bloke keep the tape the morning after you’ve had a steamy session

3. In tabloid land, everything can be celebrated with a picture of Kelly Brook

God Save The Queen!

By way of contrast, The Times has articles on how screw caps on wine bottles can give the wine a smell of stink bombs, and a short article dedicated to a word that starts with C and rhymes with blunt. High-brow stuff!

Firstly, I will offer a caution and sincere apologies for my current attitude. I am on a major buzz as i have been read by people other than Techno Scouse (Monkeh to some). I have to be honest, and admit I had my doubts that anyone would read this, let alone enjoy it.

Anyway, today’s rant is brought to you by the vacuous chunks of crap that appear to float on the top of the pool of society. I speak of course of the Celebrity culture, documented by the high-class journalism of Heat magazine.

These people are the scabs that drop off pre-fabricated pop groups, or brain-dead slappers who are only known for banging a married footballer. And instead of gently encouraging these unfortunate wasters to get a proper job, what happens? They spend the next 18 months appearing in magazines (usually retelling the same bullshit stories, or being “spotted” in a London club known as a regular haunt for such no-hopers), or appearing on chat shows such as Trisha offering guidance to the unemployed scrubbers who watch.

Ok… so everyone has to do something in life, whether it’s signing on for benefits, smuggling class A drugs, or joining the rest of us in salaried employment. However, when you have the likes of David Beckham (don’t get me started)’s former PA or that one who shagged Sven Goran Erikson, we have people who are only known for being caught having adultarous affairs with people with a modicum of talent.

What example does this create for the otherwise hopeless kids growing up? The media focus on these tossers so much, that kids actually view them as role models! I am not expecting kids to have realistic, or frankly boring, ambitions like becoming a bin-man or an accountant [I hope to God they aren't deluded enough to want to be criminal lawyers either]. Kids should want to do things that are extreme… that stretch their imagination like being a spaceman, an explorer, or a train driver.

Instead, you get a generation of little girls who want to be a Footballer’s Wife. It pains me to say this… but what happened to feminism???

Lads are quite different- when I was at school (ok, I hate myself for how old that one line has made me sound) there were a few who wanted to be footballers. As one who was very aware of my skills on the pitch (i could bring down anyone, and usually make them think twice about ever touching a football again). Now though, they don’t want to play for united for its own sake, they want it for the trappings of obscene wealth.

So let us have a quick look at the “A-list” celebrities I’m on about:

Chantelle Houghton: This genuine nobody inevitably became a celebrity, when she was put into Celebrity Big Brother as a glorified practical joke. Of course, she went on to win the thing, and marry that humourless twat from the Ordinary Boys (one of the most accurate band names ever). She was nothing, did nothing, and has gone onto achieve… NOTHING.

Jordon: She had tits. She had surgery. She then had big tits. She then had more surgery. Guess what, she got bigger tits. Now have i missed something, or has this girl managed to somehow create something from nothing (with the aid of silicon). As with others, she achieved the start of publicity by shagging pop stars and footballers. Somehow, she has become her own industry. Some say that she has engineered it herself, and deserves credit. Underneath it all though, she’s still just a pair of non-biodegradable norks.

-One footnote on Jordon: her son, Harvey. I have sympathy for anyone who has a child with a disability, and I don’t want to sound like I’m taking the piss out of him because of his condition. I mean that. However, Mrs Peter Andre has turned him into yet another method to stay in the glossy magazines by having to talk about his latest difficulty. If you are under so much strain, how is a magazine article and photoshoot going to help? I know how- BY GETTING PAID FOR IT YOU PARASITE. And in those photoshoots, she is always glammed up, tits hanging out while Harvey is sat on his lardy-arse with one eye on the camera and the other on the wall. It’s seen as cruel for circuses to exploit animals for performances, but fine for a bimbo to use a sick child to get pity and payment. Curious.

Jade Goody: She’s thick. So thick, that she tried to get away with saying her recent weight loss was because of her exercise regime (DVD now available, unsurprisingly). Unfortunately, it had more to do with the liposuction she had.

David beckham: yes he can kick a ball, and I suppose he’s not the ugliest bloke on the planet. But at the end of the day, how is that worth so much money? join me in the Beckham Boycott: Do not buy anything that the pillock advertises. The money that he is paid is not exactly needed. it could educate kids in LA, help the homeless or drug addicts… anything but buy that pillock another fleet of cars.

Victoria beckham: Oh just don’t get me started.

Rebecca Loos: Started by shagging a clothes horse. Last noticed wanking off a pig. That’s quite a carer progression.

Pete Doherty: OK- I wanted to like the Libertines. They looked cool- dressed as Napoleonic generals on tour. But try as I might, I just couldn’t get into the music. Then Pete Doperty (for the record, I’ve not read that pun in any of the tabloids. If it suddenly appears, I want everyone to give me the credit, ok?) gets chucked out of the band because he’s a raging smackhead. I don’t have a problem with drug addicts- they pay the mortgage indirectly. This is the problem- anyone other that that pasty-faced prick would have been remanded in custody the second time he was arrested for drug posession while already on ail for the same offence. Instead, because he has the money to go to the Priory Clinic (instant PR payoff), he just goes on reoffending and gets bail every time. And babyshambles are shit.

Princess Diana” She’s dead. She was not murdered, she was in a road traffic accident and turned into a saint courtesy of the Daily Express. Despite the fact she died 10 years ago, she still made it into the top 10 most mentioned celebrities of last year, simply because the Express did at least 2 covers on her a week. And why? because the people of this country somehow believe she was one of us, and represented that which is good about Britain. But let’s just examine this- she was born into one of this country’s many pointless aristocratic families, groomed into the equivalent of an arranged marriage, and then got divorced after both she and Prince Charles (wait for that blog entry) had affairs. And don’t go on about her bloody charity work… do you REALLY think that when she was wearing body armour in Cambodia, there was the SLIGHTEST risk that a landmine would actually blow her cosmetically sculpted nose back to Highgrove? Don’t talk arse.

-Yes it sucks when anyone dies in a crash, and it’s worse if they have kids. However, the media shit-storm at the time was so overblown that Radio Stations just took requests for songs that meant something to the listeners at that emotional time. Radio 1 hung up when i requested “Ding Dong the Witch is Gone” from the Wizard of Oz. Bastards.

If anyone has any other celebs or comments they wish to share, feel free to post them. Or if you don’t agree, post that too… would be fun to have a second opinion!