Monthly Archives: February 2010

What are Croatian WAGs like?

I know it’s the hot topic on everyone’s lips at the moment – so right here, right now, I’ll bring you the answer. Well, sort of.

Let’s take a look at one WAG in particular. She’s called Nives Celsius (catchy name) and you may have already come across her in the British press. She and her husband, Dino Drpic, famously once had sex on the pitch of Dinamo Zagreb’s stadium. Then, their young son was apparently once momentarily snatched whilst they were on holiday on the Croatian coast, as the snatchers thought they had found and were saving Madeleine McCann. (It was all resolved quickly.) Finally – and I don’t believe this was reported in the British press, though I can’t think why – Ms Celsius was pulled over whilst driving by the Croatian police just before Christmas. When asked for her ID, she replied – “Here’s my ID!” and promptly lifted up her top.

Anyways, moving swiftly to the present day-ish. A few weeks ago, writing on her blog, Nives proclaimed that she too had been John Terry’s lover. Actually, no she wasn’t – that particular post title was an error on her part as a result of writing late at night. (Do watch out for me proclaiming the same or similar on this blog one day – I also sometimes write late at night!) The blog post in question still has the title – a correction apparently isn’t warranted – though the actual content of the post is priceless. Basically, Nives advises Mrs Terry to stick with John and forgive him because she’ll never get any better. As she’s “not such a great fish”, she won’t be able to hook another footballer, whilst if they split, John would hook up with a hot model and the public will forgive him pretty quickly; Mrs Terry also otherwise wouldn’t be someone read about “around the world”. And so, according to Nives, WAGs forgive whilst footballers continue to cheat. In fact, having seen the poor quality of English football mistresses, she suggests young Croatian gold-diggers head to England. Hmm. Fair point.

No word on her relationship with Tiger Woods or Ashley Cole, or her advice to Elin Woods and Cheryl Cole.

I see a flaw in this Valentine’s Day plan…

Hmmm…I think this is the wrong kind of proposal

The BBC News reports on a “helpful” strategy that Manchester Airport are employing for Valentine’s Day in order to avoid any secretly hidden engagement rings being unveiled at airport security…thereby ruining the surprise of a proposal.

Travellers can now say a special code phrase which will see them screened privately, so all lovely and not-so-lovely rings stay firmly hidden the lucky girl (or guy?) is none the wiser.

The only problem – I think, anyway – is that the phrase in question is “be my Valentine”. Now, if I were travelling to some exotic locale for a romantic getaway with my loved one and they uttered this phrase to a security guard at the airport, I’d think they were cracking onto them. And then I’d get mad. And then I’d probably dump them.

It’s a recipe for disaster.

Your next obsession – Jersey Shore

I know that you’re the kind of person that swings from one ill-advised obsession to another, so start planning the next fixation that will consume you more than knitting does. (I’ve totally read you – huh? HUH?!?!?!)

Over in the U.S. just before Christmas, I caught the first episode of a new MTV reality series – Jersey Shore. 8 very proud Italian Americans – 4 guys, 4 girls – get put into a house in a small town on the shore in New Jersey during summer, working (sort of) in their landlord’s souvenir tat shop by day, and partying hard by night.

Oh wow, fascinating, I bet you’re thinking? Yeah, well, I hear your sarcasm! I know you think it sounds a bit like Big Brother set on the seaside, or a ethnically focused Real World. Or any other handful of other recent reality TV shows, let’s face it. (The Apprentice without the enterprise? X Factor without the horrible manipulation? Pretty much exactly like I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here without Ant & Dec?)

Oh boy – if you’ve seen it, you wouldn’t be saying “faaascinating? in your scarcastic, bored tone. For this show is pure brilliance. And I say this even though I’ve only seen one episode – three times (long story). You will never have seen hair as big, clothes so small or lacking several sections, abs so chiselled, fake tan so dark and fist pumping (in clubs…to music…) so loud and proud. Best of all are the names some of characters go by – Sweetheart, The Situation, JWoww and star of the show, Snooki. Oh darling Snooki!

This show’s all over America in a big way – both good and bad. Whilst ratings have been high, even beating one of MTV’s most popular shows, The Hills, certain groups and companies have trashed it, claiming it shows Italian Americans or the Jersey shore area in a bad light. Some advertisers have even pulled out of screening their ads during the series – including that bastion of the Italian American community, Dominos Pizza.

Any British equivalent would probably be aired on Zany! TV Sky Channel 893 at 12.30am on a Friday – or possibly be screened primetime on ITV1. It would have obnoxious, not loveable, cast members and be watched by a handful of people either drunk, home from their Friday night out, or waiting for Corrie to come on.

I can’t find any proper Jersey Shore clips to back up my post (oh boy…perhaps I should have checked before I started writing) so you’re going to have to trust me on this one. Though here’s a little clip from a newscast featuring one of the defining moments of the first series: