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Friday, October 17, 2008

A Quick Catch-Up

My apologies for not being around for a while - but as you can see when you almost tripped over my crayons and round-ended scissors, that I've been up to my delectable eyebrows in work. Most vexing as the world kept throwing things at me I wanted to bring to your attention! How cruel is that!

Alright then: lets get it off our chests (as I once said to one of the leads in 'Lord of the Rings' after the incident) Madge and Guy. Were you surprised? I don't think anyone was surprised. I mean I've had some shocks in my life: the price of Creme de Mer, the fact that one of Coldplay is actually hot... this fact alone almost made me drop a dumbbell on my gorgeous stack-heeled flip-flop at the gym. I mean, here they are, Coldplay, cheerleaders for the lung-deflating bland, and they have someone like Guy Berryman in their midst. I mean, hello. The problem with this is that if you even deign to pleasure yourself to one of their videos (heaven forfend, but lets say your hard drive crashed under the sheer weight of Cazzo downloads, the Grattan catalogue is weeks late and someone cancelled the subsription to the men's volleyball channel in favour of Smash Hits Video... which in retrospect was probably you) we are talking serious Masturbation Roulette. I mean, one heavily-edited video and one second you're fwapping one out to Guy and the next you're confronted with that Martin fellow. Who just looks boring. How does he do that? He's going out with Gwyneth Paltrow, is worth millions, and is part of one of the biggest British bands in years. But still looks dull. Incredible! And also - also - his teeth. You can't be rubbing one out when confronted with those. Goodness. He looks like he could eat an apple through a letterbox from the other side of the door.

Anyway! I'm getting off the main point (good coffee this). Madge and Guy! Bless them. I don't know that much about them as people, despite Madge insisting that we know everything about her. I mean, there was a time in 1992 around the time of 'Erotica' and 'In Bed With Madonna' and 'Sex' that I think I knew her drip tray with more inimacy than my own area. And please bear in mind that I was a fledgling Gentleman Who Was Learning Skincare with a whole stack of Gratan Catalogues to stick together. You couldn't move for seeing her minky staring down at you in some Orwellian manner from the sky - like the Goodyear blimp with more miles on the clock. So it always makes me laugh whenever the publicist tacks on the end of the press release of a divorce 'and we hope that the press respects our privacy.' Ha!

So I shall correct myself - I don't know much about them as a couple, although I have to say, but I did sit through 'Swept Away' once, and if two people are responsible for bringing that into the world, then clearly they shouldn't be allowed within 500 foot of each other. What are their kids like? Anyone know? I've only seen pictures of Lordes (indeed, I do cry 'Good Lord-es!' whenever I see her: yeesh, you'd do something about the moustache and monobrow wouldn't you? I mean, she can't not see it, could she? Even if all the mirrors in her mansion were made of coal you'd still be able to see that she was closer to a member of Oasis than her strange grandma-mother).

So Madge and Guy, farewell. I have no idea what you're going to do, mister. But I bet your ex-wife is going to do something typically low-key and private about it. Like two new albums, a documentary, a new book and a world tour. Aparently she's already banging some sports person (someone mentioned what it was, but you know me - gay. Can't tell one end of the sports hall from the rest. Could have been football. Could have been hockey. Could have been ice-skating. They all blur into one for me). That poor man. I mean, Madge has been around the block... no, lets not hide this in euphemisms. Madge is a whore. And this guy now has to try and slip his meat into her leathery area. Which, after all this time, must be like opening the window and fucking the night.

And while we're on the subject of fucking, we have someone attacking the beautiful act of two (or usually more) men going at it like knives: The Rev Peter Mullen insists that gay men get a tattoo on their ass saying that 'Sodomy damages your health'.

(pauses)

(thinks)

Bwahahhaaaa! How brilliant! So basically, he wants gay men to identify themselves to members of the public..? I don't think he's throught this through. I mean, gay men want to stand out! And if we start identifying ourselves to each other, it's just going to be easier to shag! How funny.

And 'Sodomy damages your health'? Clearly he's doing it wrong. Indeed, if he wants to tattoo everyone who's had their muck spread, he's in for some trouble. I mean, I didn't think priests should have tattoos...

Have a good weekend, won't you.

6 comments:

brucie said...

Rocco is a cutie - if he turns out Gay, his mother will be proud, his Father will kill himself and Uncle Christopher will have the last laugh!

Cyfa said...

But you've missed the most important news: Girls Aloud's new single The Promise!

* shimmies around in besequinned frock with massive hair *

BTW, your euphemism useage really knows no bounds! Thank you.

Lee said...

I'm going to do The Promise soon, I - uh - promise. I've still got to get my head around that key-change!

Kezza said...

Oh come on now, be fair, that poor old box-woring bionic woman must be heart broken that she's managed to break another man. But can you blame Guy? There must come a time when every straight man tires of being the bottom in the relationship and just wants to top for once.

I'm quire fond of the idea of getting a tottoo, and 'sodomy damages your health' has quite a ring to it wouldn't you say?

JohnnyFox said...

I'm well up for having my ringpiece tattooed, as long as Rev Mullen has the same thing incised into the stonework over his own Church portal, and at the Stock Exchange where he is the nominal house pastor.

I'm thinking "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here" might suit us all?

DB said...

Your redecorating of the term 'drip tray' is provoking slack-jawed admiration amongst locals here in Toronto. Bravo!