The BBC News ticker keeps telling me that Noel Gallagher has reportedly left Oasis, according to the Oasis website (which won’t load; I guess all five of us have broken it by trying to access it at the same time). I’d nearly give a shit were I not watching coverage of Kings of Leon from Reading and thinking that they’re pretty freakin’ awesome.
If you can’t be in a “top” rockband and get on with your bandmates, maybe you should give your fans of your many millions back? And if you can’t get on with your “kid” brother, maybe you should just have a scrap in the backyard and break his Barbie doll, or something.
It’s a sad day, I tell you. But we’ll get over it. After all, Peter Andre’s making a comeback. And I hear Michael Bolton’s working on a new album.
Madonna’s released a “teaser” clip from her upcoming video and song – because, you know, we just can’t wait until it’s actually out. Here it is:
This may be one of the funniest things I’ve seen. SERIOUSLY. My initial thoughts were exactly as this post’s title – and I’m obviously not referring to the younger guy in the video, who is in fact Madonna’s toy boy, Jesus Luz. (Get over yourself, woman. The guy’s a model. You don’t have to give him a career.)
I mean the other guy. Okay, so it’s not Sanch but actually Paul Oakenfold. BUT WHAT IS HE DOING? Is he having some kind of fit? Is he on one of those Power Plate workout machines? Has a child of his recently given birth to a child – which is why he’s dancing like a grand-dad? Why does he look like such a moron? Who thought this would look good in the final cut of the video? Ohhh…
Maybe Madonna had a falling out with him…and MEANT to show him like that. Ohhh…
Never underestimate the patronising nature of the tabloids…for, trying to describe Beyonce and Jay-Z’s holiday in Croatia this week, the Daily Mail states that:
while her chart contemporaries have been spending the summer sailing around the traditional showbiz haunts of St Tropez and Portofino, Beyonce has broken out and visit [sic] one of Europe’s newest and trendiest hotspots
Wow, what a brave girl! Whilst other celebs are holidaying in “proper” holiday destinations, the brave lass has dragged along her husband to this practically unknown country. I’ve heard people in Croatia live in brick houses, drive four-wheeled cars, eat food and sleep on beds. (Though how can a place be both “new” and “trendy”? And I suppose it’s new only if you pretend the last ten years or so of mass tourism haven’t happened.)
Anyways, so – post dinner in Dubrovnik, the couple and their bodyguard get into an altercation with a paparazzo which saw the photog throw his tripod at their bodyguard (hey, aren’t those things expensive?) who then promptly threw it into the Adriatic sea.
Bodyguard/paparazzi fighting isn’t big or clever, kids, though it can sometimes seem a little bit funny. It also sounds like it could be Sacha Baron Cohen’s next film – “DRAGAN: Don’t mess with this Eastern European paparazzo.”
Whilst trawling through various news and gossip websites today, I came across the worst eight words…EVER. I’m actually pretty surprised that world isn’t close to ending, now that these eight words seem to be out there, spreading themselves freely and making their merry way through the country’s population. You know the thing – lakes drying out, birds falling out of the sky, chairs coming to life, cows starting to read The Sun. That kind of thing.
What are these words? Well, since they’re already in existence as one full sentence, I guess it doesn’t really matter if I repeat them:
The X Factor returns to ITV1 on Saturday.
PLEEEEEEEEASE, NOOOOOOO!! Urgh. I can’t believe this utter crap is coming back to our TV screens once more – don’t they ever learn? Do we really need to see FOUR MONTHS of what’s clearly one of the worst TV programmes ever in existence – a show that’s a mix of laughing at mentally retarded people; playing up people’s sob stories for extra effect; over the top coverage of these horribly preening judges (yes, Cheryl Cole and Dannnnniiiiiiii, we get it, you wear nice dresses sometimes); Simon Cowell’s stupid “horrified” look; Louis Walsh’s mad grinning; endless bad singing (and that’s from the “talented” lot); annoying overnight “celebrities” who are really just fat, teenage boys; and an eventual winner who most likely doesn’t have the X factor and will fade into obscurity pretty quickly. (Hello, Steve Brookstein! Hello Shane Ward! Hello boy with spiky hair!)
Although, why do we use the word “staycation” anyway in this country? We don’t actually use the word “vacation” in the first place. Harumpf.
Anyways, you know the situation. You’re a pooch and your human may be willing to put up with the crappy weather the UK is having this summer, but it won’t fly with you. You start bringing home brochures to Carribean holidays; you bark every time that weird Thomson Holidays-creating-a-beach ad which always drags on far too long is on; you act all enthusiastic when your neighbours come round brandishing their holiday snaps; and you get so close with booking a Ryanair flight to Ibiza only to get foiled by the credit card booking fees as they’re too high and you can’t remember where you’ve put your debit card and then the booking expires and OH WHY IS THIS SO HARD.
So, you’ve really got to take matters into your own hands…er…paws. And for a dog, that’s surprisingly easy. You simply hop on a train to your nearest airport and fly out! Ha ha ha, take that!
But you get foiled by some more stupid humans. Why do they hate you so?!