Posts filed under ‘Celebrities’

Big Brother House On The Prairie

Just two days ago, when commenting on Barack Obama’s inauguration speech, I admitted that it made me wish I was American.

Having watched last night’s version of the UK Celebrity Big Brother show on TV I have revised my opinion. Big Brother quite rightly, being such an historic event for the world, America, and clack Americans in particular,  allowed the housemates (including the three Americans) to watch the inauguration video. Normally, all news of current affairs and the outside world are denied to Big Brother contestants.

Coolio was clearly moved.

But, the reaction of La Toya Jackson and Verne Troyer was so indicative of the worst face of America – isolationist, arrogant, self-important, a skewed view of history, a lack of awareness, and a total lack of understanding of why the rest of the world does not see it as God’s nation and our great redeemer.

Here is a transcript with some of the most bizarre statements highlighted:

“LT: I think he (Obama) will try and do what he says, it will take time. Bush has our country in a mess, but I don’t like people talking about our country like that, I just think it’s totally disrespectful’ I noticed everything, and you know what I also noticed, it’s an inauguration for us, and everybody sat and looked at the tv that way, instead they should have said you are the Americans, you sit here. I think we should have been the one really looking up looking up and seen the tv.

Verne ??????? tv

I mean if that was somebody elses country I would have said, no take this seat, this is your President being sworn in, you have this seat. I’m not complaining but I just think it’s, I don’t know. It was so touching and so incredible.

Verne: The way he was talking about, it’s not just affecting America, it’s affecting the whole world.

LT: … and it is affecting the entire world Verne, America is so powerful, even though there are some in her that want to put America down. America is so powerful, we are the ones who support other people in war and things of that nature, and the reason that we are existing today

Verne: Even for other countries existing, if it wasn’t for us they wouldn’t exist.

LT: Of course, of course ….

Verne: Undermining our country I hate

LT: yeah, yeah, yeah.

Verne: Bcause we have done so many good things.

LT: absolutely

Verne: …. and yes in the past 4, 8 years ….

Lt: I think it is disrepectful, totally disrespecful, so I stay out of it don’t say anything.

Verne: I try too

LT: I think it’s a fool that argues constantly and consistently, my parents also told us, just listen don’t say anything to get your point across. Sometimes it’s difficult to get your point across.

Verne: … other people don’t really listen some time.

LT: No they don’t and that is what I mean.

While Verne might be short, La Toya is certainly short of a few brain cells. She is her brother’s sister for sure. I am glad she has gone no matter how easy on the eye she may have been.”

While we may share a language and a special relationship, I still maintain that America is one of the most foreign countries that I have visited.

Advertisements

January 22, 2009 at 4:29 pm 5 comments

Strictly Cum Dancing

claudia

Last night I saw my first Strictly Come Dancing programme (the UK version of Dancing With The Stars) . It was not the Saturday night show, or the Sunday night results show (which is apparently also filmed on the Saturday after Tess changes her dress) , but the daily Strictly Come Dancing – It Takes Two programme hosted by the easy-on-the-eye Claudia Winkleman. Boy you would hope that she doesn’t “grow up” to look like her mother!

We put it on at the request of J from next door who had popped round to drop of C’s birthday present – she is 39 today 😉 – and who stayed for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc on the understanding that she could not miss the show. She being the programme’s self-confessed greatest of fans. To be honest she is just a sucker for any half-toned rugby player in a cummerbund!

How does the BBC get away with this? Is this the best of public service broadcasting? It seems to me that the show is pervasive. Every BBC news bulletin on the TV or radio seems to reference the latest voting dilemma or bullying incident. The show is featured on every episode of the One Show.  The tabloids are full of it. There have even been questions asked in Parliament regarding whether it is legitimate that John Sergeant, who dances, well, like me (i.e. badly), should be kept in the “competition” by the public vote when, in the end, it is supposed to be a dancing competition. And is just me or does anyone else think that John Sergeant is really Jo Brand in a tux? Has anyone seen that pair in the same room? Surely those two were separated at birth……

For me the only redeeming aspects to the show are Tess Daly, (a truly well put together lady), Claudia and Christine Bleakley. Incidentally we got a double dose of Christine last night – no sooner had she finished her interview with Claudia on BBC2 than she was hosting the One Show on BBC1, and talking about the show again. Does anyone know more about her alleged affair with co-present Adrian Chiles?

But I also recognise its ability to cross the divide. Last night Claudia asked Four Puffs and A Piano what they liked about the programme. Hmmm? What on Earth could four gay men find alluring about men in tight-fitting trousers I wonder?!? Presumably the BBC must have the Four Puffs on a retainer. Seeing as they aren’t doing the Jonathan Ross show at the mo then the BBC are obviously keen to get their money’s worth. Or should that be our money’s worth.

Surely there is something more interesting to talk about? Can the judges truly be accused of bullying? Can the great British public continue to waste its money voting for the Serge? Is this the best spend of our license fee money? Answers on a postcard please.

November 19, 2008 at 10:41 am 4 comments

Happy Days

So, Blue Peter has been celebrating its 50th anniversary as one of the world’s longest running Children’s TV programme……Well, I was always more of a Magpie man myself. BBC was always a little posh and keen to educate in my formative years and I seemed to prefer the allure of Jenny Hanley over Lesley Judd. And, who can blame me? Give me a Hammer Girl over a ballet dancer any day 😉

But, the anniversary has prompted me to think back to those halcyon days of 1970s and early 1980s TV. I never really bothered about Blue Peter until Sarah Greene. Well, why would I? But, I did find Sarah and the likes of Janet Ellis could be a little diverting in the late afternoon. And to be honest, John Noakes apart, the male presenters were always a little dodgy. Peter Duncan, John Leslie – need I say more?ellis

In my day, as a kid, you took TV as it came. Which wasn’t often. Breakfast TV didn’t start until 1983. When I was very young (or occasionally ill) I would walk home from junior school for lunch and take in the occasional Mr Benn, Trumpton, Camberwick Green, Tales of the Riverside, or, Pipkins, with that truly irritating Brummie hare!

Animation and cartoons were pretty rubbish – who could ever get their head around Noggin the Nog or understand what on Earth (or whatever their volcanic, hollow planet was called) the Clangers were on about? The American imports were always so much better. I used to fancy Penelope Pitstop. These were the days of Dastardly and Muttley, the Harlem Globetrotters and the Jackson 5 – back in the days when the only children that Michael Jackson shared his bed withwere his own brothers! (How did he ever get away with it?)

The home grown stuff was pretty rock n’ roll though, alegedly full of drugs and sexual innuendo. Just take Zebedee in the Magic Roundabout or the whole mythology built around Captain Pugwash with  Seaman Staines, Master Bates, and Roger the Cabin Boy. None of it is true you know.

Sundays were dull. These were the days when TV schedulers believed that children should be sat around the Sunday dinner table with the family and playing in the park. It was so bad that you would look forward to Songs of Praise. No, actually, it was never that bad. There was always the Adentures of Black Beauty. It was always a bit girlie but at least there was Judy Bowker.

The Christmas holidays were long, with only black and white Tarzan movies (Johnny Weissmuller) or Flash Gordon (Steve Holland) to accompany your home-made mince pie breakfasts. The summer holidays would have been unbearable without the Banana Splits and their friends – the Three Musketeers, the Arabian Nights and Danger Island.

Kids today? You don’t know what you are missing. What are your favourite TV shows from way back then?

Related Posts:

Food Memories

Soundtrack to my Life

Childhood Memories

The Good Life

October 17, 2008 at 9:18 am 12 comments

Kill Bill 3

kirkwood

I awoke a little grumpily this morning.

In part this was due to sleep deprivation – the weather here in the north west of England has been uncommonly hot the last couple of days. Now, I am (unusually) not complaining but the evenings have been very warm and muggy. Despite dispensing with duvets and despite opening windows, the last two nights’ sleep have been brief and fretful. Mind you, the rather dramatic thunder and lightning at 03.40 this morning didn’t help.

That said, the return of Bill Turnbull to the BBC Breakfast News Sofa alongside foxy Sian Williams helped my mood not at all. Why can’t he just retire gracefully? In a kind of smarmy, fey, quite camp and irritating kind of grace that is.

English: British journalist Sian Williams whis...

English: British journalist Sian Williams whist presenting presenting BBC Breakfast in London during the 2010 United Kingdom general election. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Bill’s return coincided with the Parliamentary Recess to deliver yet another morning session bereft of meaningful news stories. Again, it is official, absolutely nothing of any importance is going on, absolutely anywhere on this planet of ours, or the surrounding universes (unless you believe all the recent white noise about aliens living amongst us and UFOs and conspiracy theories and the like).

Instead, the whole morning was filled with tales of gingerbread men in the shape of Cristiano Ronaldo, and a seemingly blatant advertisement for a male cosmetic firm trying to convince us that we hot-blooded men should be wearing eyeliner and mascara (or Guyliner and Manscara as it is wittingly branded). Of course, the “I’m not at all camp” Bill was all too reluctantly willing to try this out!

ellieThere was also the non-story about Carol Kirkwood, the must-have morning crumpet of choice for middle-aged men (whose attention turns to Carol Vorderman in the afternoon and the female presenters of The One Show in the evening – Christine Bleakely, Myleene Klaas, Ellie Harrison, Lucy Siegle and Angellica Bell), not camping in Burnham-on-Sea. Despite looking pretty windswept, the supposed “joke” was that Carol actually stayed in a luxury chalet rather than under canvas.

Nevertheless, Carol found time to feed those sexual fantasies with tales of her time in the girl guides. I suspect that she still has a uniform. A very tight-fitting uniform. Also, it provided an opportunity for Carol to flirt with her “Billy” as she calls him and for banter implying that Carol and Chris Mullin, the sports presenter with whom Carol spent Ascot week and Wimbledon with, knew rather too much about each other – Chris implied that Carol snored and Carol implied that Chris had sweaty feet!

vordermanAnd, the visit to Burnham-on-Sea, conjured up images of past relationships/holidays which I would rather forget. Burnham is probably the closest seaside resort to the city of Birmingham. It is, therefore, also full of Brummies. And, when I was just 17 years old, this is where I went on holiday with my first serious girlfriend, Melissa, and her family. When I say “serious” she was the first girl that let me get further than base one – and, in case my mom is reading I am not admitting which base I got to, but……..

I slept in the awning with the family dog, while Melissa slept in the caravan with her mom, dad and younger sister. Thankfully her two scary brothers – one a night club bouncer and the other a convicted GBHer – didn’t join us.

It was not the most enjoyable holiday experience that I had. In fact it was right up there with the twin centre holiday to Sorrento and Rome when I got ditched by my fiancée, who subsequently admitted to having an affair with a married man with three children.

This is what Bill Turnbill does to me, the swine. All this emotional turmoil just comes flooding back. And, Burnham is a dump.

Please BBC. Kill Bill.

July 29, 2008 at 1:13 pm 11 comments

Sting in the Tale

It’s a pun. If not very punny…..

And, admit it….hands up if you found this site by searching on “Kylie naked” or variants thereof.

On Tuesday evening this week I took C to see The Police in concert at the Manchester Evening News Arena. This would not have been my first choice for a concert, but it was a birthday wish for C, a life long Police fan who had, unfortunately, managed to avoid seeing them live in their hay days of the 70s and 80s. And she fancies Sting. She fancies Sting big time.

As it happens, the concert was 8 months late. It had been postponed on the original date because Sting had a sore throat. Bless. This added to my general dislike of the guy, putting him firmly in the camp of wuss/big girl’s blouse. This, being just one of the labels that I have tagged onto Mr Gordon Sumner – “Destroyer of the Planet” (we could not visit the amphitheatre at Ephesus in Turkey because it had been deemed unsafe due to the cracks allegedly caused by the Sting concert there, ironically as part of his “Save the Planet Tour” with that indian guy with the big lips) and “Pillock”, for being oh so up himself with his bloody medieval lute playing palaver……

 Actually, I think I just dislike the guy because C (and millions of other fanciable women who should only have eyes for yours truly) fancies him. Indeed, we have a clause in our wedding contract that allows C to leave me, with no hard feelings, (and no alimony) should she and Sting get it together. We have tickets. So Tuesday was quite a high risk event for me personally. I have a reciprocal clause, however, which allows me to leave in the much more likely event that I get it on with Kylie Minogue. Sex on a stick. And, I have come so close already. Well, I almost got her telephone number. Almost….. 

It was beginning to feel like fate was about to deal a strange card when I noticed that the sex kitten herself was coming to the MEN in July. I hadn’t booked tickets (her vocal capabilities are not exactly what attracts me to her) but I did think that it would be a useful fall back position should the evening not go so well and I was forced to leave C with the Sting.

 

And so, we set off for Manchester fairly early in order to secure a parking place at the venue. Sat Nav delivered us to the very (barriered) steps of the Arena, and I then had to resort to “the Force” (it was not with me) and the scarce brown tourist signs to find the entrance to the car park. Unfortunately this meant that we were some 10 minutes or so later and we ended up on the 7th floor.

After a quick cigarette outside – I think C was just “hanging” in case Sting walked past – we joined the queue and soon found ourselves on the inside. C went to the loo while I ordered two pints of watered lager in plastic glasses. Consumption of the lager prompted a second toilet visit for C before we took our seats (which were excellent) and waited for the support act. We waited and we waited and we waited.

They were 45 minutes late.

But, the delay did not cause our spirits to flag. We people watched. We actually felt very young and fashionable compared with our fellow concert goers, many of whom were stuck in 1979 or so. We also wondered why so many people felt it necessary to wear sunglasses indoors. If nothing else, it must be a health and safety issue on the steep stairs. We also mocked the rather too many people who were picking up leaflets for the 50th Anniversary Cliff Richard Time Machine Tour. Well, at least when he’s in Manchester he is not troubling small boys in South Africa 😉

We were pleased to note that the support act was not in fact Sting’s son’s band as it had been scheduled to be back in October. The support group was very good. While I did, tentatively, identify them as Starsailor, it was clear that their identity was lost on most of the middle-agers in the. At least my “hip” and “cool” credentials were intact. I am positively “down” with them “man”.

And, I have to say that The Police were, well, awesome. Sting is a much better vocalist than I had imagined…..and looks far too good for his age, the git. Actually, I have to say that he seems to have gone for a very striking bearded look not unlike my own! If you forgive his sweaty armpits and the rather too many twiddly guitar solos from Andy Summers, it was very, very good indeed.

After several encores we left rather later than expected. As all the eateries were closed, we returned to the car and joined the long queue to exit the car park It took about 45 minutes or so and by the time we exited the Sat Nav was very, very confused…..

Sorry Kylie, maybe next time.

Post Script: Click here to find out how our attempts at sex with Sting and Kylie have progressed.

 

Related posts:

 Kylie

June 19, 2008 at 8:38 am 4 comments

What Does An Eye Taste Like?

I don’t have to watch the BBC Breakfast News to know who is doing the weather reports or which poor female reporter has got the bum seat on the big red sofa next to that smarmy, chinless, waste of space which is Bill Turnbull. No, these days I can pretty much guess who is on by checking out my blog’s dashboard. Checking out the search engine terms that found my blog. So, today, my guess is that Louise Lear will be huddled under an umbrella in the Blue Peter Garden or somewhere, sporting one of her brightly coloured, tailored raincoats, while Louise Minchin has the unenviable tasks of bringing a semblance of dignity and professionalism to the news reports despite the best efforts of that poodle Turnbull to sabotage things with his ridiculous quips, died hair and plucked eyebrows.

I like to think of my dashboard as a bit of a barometer on the state of the world. So, what do you make of today’s top ten? The ten top search engine terms which found my blog so far this morning are as follows:

lear

1) Louise Lear

2) Kylie Minogue legs

3) “Louise Minchin”

4) Neighbours constant loud music

5) Neighbours from hell

6) Air France leg room

7) Sally James school uniform

8.) What does an eye taste like?

9) Female prefect caned

10) Cat Deeley topless

deeley

So, what do we make of all that? I can only assume that my blog is mostly visited by men of a certain age. Well, men of my age I would guess. That would no doubt explain the strange fantasies about the stars of Breakfast TV, Saturday morning childrens’ TV presenters from across the ages, and Kylie of course. That said, I am not sure that her legs are Kylie’s best features, and, you would need a magnifying glass to find Cat’s prize assets. And, quite why “Louise Minchin” always appears within quotation marks I do not know. “Minchin” isn’t a verb to do with sexual activity is it? Is it something humourous like Muffin the Mule?

I can emphasise and sympathise with those poor souls whose existence is blighted by a troublesome neighbour. I have been there. I have got that t-shirt. But, I am a little bemused as to what people were expecting to find in their quest for corporal punishment from a schoolgirl dominatrix? They will be sadly disappointed, underwhelmed, and, in need of a cold shower when they discover the not so rich pickings in Middleman’s blogosphere……..Why would anyone want to know what an eye would taste like?  I can only assume that the answer to that is “It doesn’t taste like chicken!”

I guess it is just another to add to the long list of life’s unanswered questions. Why does toast always fall buttered side down? Why does asparagus make your wee smell like that? Why do fat chance and slim chance mean the same thing? How come Bill Turnbull is still employed? And, apparently, what is Louise Minchin’s cup size?

Answers on a postcard please.

legs

Post script:

I recently came across this picture of Sally James. Boy, was she easy on the eye in a woman-next-door kind of way. It’s enough to want you to DIY 😉

May 28, 2008 at 9:50 am 5 comments

Celebrity Spotting Part 3

My business meeting in London finished early yesterday. This came as a relief because I was concerned that I would, otherwise, have spent most of the night trying to get my car unclamped.

You see, in order to save money my company insists that we book train tickets in advance. An open first class return ticket from Crewe to Euston costs nearly £300 but if you book in advance and are prepared to travel off-peak you can get tickets for a half decent price.

Yesterday I was travelling both ways for a total of £90 but only if I travelled out on the 09.53 and returned on the 19.46. But, when I got to the car park at Crewe station it was full. Damn. Parking is rare at Crewe and I didn’t want to take the chance that other regular commuters seem to do and park at B&Q. I suppose I could have parked near Crewe Alexander’s stadium but was a) not sure there wasn’t a game on that night and b) was not sure I had time to get there, park and walk back to the station in time to catch my train.

My only option was to use one of the pay and displays around the corner. I had no option. Imagine my concern when I noticed that my maximum stay was 10 hours with a fine of £70 to be paid for infringing this. But, if I was to continue with my planned schedule I would be parked there for at least 12 hours. But, I had no option.

So it was a huge relief when we finished two hours ahead of schedule and my boss agreed that I could buy a new ticket to get home. £147!!!! How on earth can they justify these prices?

£147 bought me a seat in first class, complimentary cups of tea, a couple of red wines, a hot meal, cheese and biscuits and the Evening Standard. And, I found myself sat next to the Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith and her entourage. If you see red tickets where the normal reserved labels go it must mean reserved for VIPs.

I was sat next to the window in the single seating. Jacqui sat next to me with a vacant seat between us at the group of four, together with a couple of aids. Her minders (three) sat behind her and surprisingly paid little attention to me. I was amazed at the seeming lack of security. Now, I know I don’t look like your average Taliban fighter or shoe bomber but I could  have been, well anyone. The rest of the carriage was surprisingly empty, so, they could even have asked me to move.

I am sure that most people would have walked past Jacqui and her gang without a second glance. She was discreet and certainly wasn’t trying to draw any attention to herself. She was quietly spoken, polite and jovial with the Virgin staff and her colleagues, and not showing any of that cleavage which got her into so much trouble at the beginning of her stint as Home Secretary. Indeed, she was a bit drab and close up she looked a little plumper than I had thought and her double chin is definitely giving birth to a third.

So, the journey was great for people watching and listening in to private conversations. Jacqui ate the trout and skipped dessert in favour of a chocolate cluster; she drank two G&Ts (full fat tonic, ice and lemon) but refused a third; and, spent the whole journey as far as Crewe (apparently she was en route to Blackpool) working on a speech in PowerPoint on her laptop.gin

She had a battered old mobile with a cracked screen which she used only twice – once to phone her dad to remind him to watch the Party Election Broadcast on the BBC at 18.55 (he had to take his hearing aid out to hear her properly) and once when she seemed to be chatting to a child and confirming that the choice of broccoli and courgettes was very good indeed.

spyThere was very little interaction with her colleagues. She sat opposite an older woman who did nothing but read newspapers. At one point they exchanged a joke over the story in the Evening Standard of Kate Hoey joining Boris’ team in the event of him becoming Mayor of London. There was a young twenty something (but looked about twelve) lad who was smartly and trendily dressed. He helped her with her cables and saving her presentation but otherwise played on his PSP (PlayStation Portable) and read his book – The Spy Who Came In From The Cold by John Le Carre. I thought that was kind of fitting for the department responsible for anti-terrorism and home security.

Not quite up there with Pete Waterman and my sexual encounter with Sarah Lancashire but still a pleasant way of passing the time.

And, my car wasn’t clamped after all and I was home in time to see Paul Scholes’ goal against Barca!!

April 30, 2008 at 10:25 am Leave a comment

Older Posts Newer Posts


Archives

Follow me on Twitter

Enter your email address to receive new posts.

Join 236 other followers

Blogs I Follow

Blog Stats

  • 694,173 hits

Flag Counter

Social


Travels 2016

Lesley Jennings

In and Around Shere

A beautiful area in the heart of the Surrey Hills

Talking in circles

Graduate, dog-lover and cake aficionado. Really.

21c Scotland

Scottish Blue Badge Guide

Libatio

These are the sometimes irreverent ramblings and observations of an English middle-aged man and middle manager.....

Public Value for Money

These are the sometimes irreverent ramblings and observations of an English middle-aged man and middle manager.....

Fit and Fabulous at 40 Plus

Rediscover yourself - food, inspiration & training programmes

Akinsankofa's Blog

Just another WordPress.com weblog

expatnewby

My own, honest (ish) thoughts and fears of expat life.

%d bloggers like this: