PRINCE RINGS BELL
Royalty, doncha lovit? Ex-Diana beau and love rat James Hewitt, on remand with gf and news reader Alison Bell on charges of possessing cocaine, now suffers the ultimate indignity: His laydee lost her flower to Prince Edward – the most ludicrous of all the royals – when she was just sweet sixteen.
Bell’s ex-husband, Mike Bell, a secondhand car dealer, claims in the Sun that Alison and Prince Edward (known in gay circles as “Dockside Debbie” on account of his alleged but unproved penchant for rough-trade) were lovers at a collegiate school in Wanganui, New Zealand, in 1983, where Dockside Debbie spent two terms teaching.
Apparently, DD got Alison drunk on gin and tonic. She ended up chucking up in his bathroom, after which the royal made a move on her, and they had sex. So romantic.
Don’t know if u like this, but over here, the reality show obsession du jour is Big Brother. This year, the promise of the producers was to be evil to contestants, which has translated into little more than not giving them cigarettes and painting the walls a rather hideous green. Today, however, they handcuffed the contestants who don’t like each other together in a bid to make the last couple of weeks vaguely interesting.
Posh tottie Shell has been tied to dreamboat Stuart, much to the disgust of Stuart’s girlfriend in the house, the super-thick and jealous Michelle (they were the first people to actually have sex in the house. I for one felt a little dirty, watching the tablecloth under which they fondled and groaned – but not that dirty).
Big hunk Jason, an air steward of dubious heterosexual credentials who claims to have had sex with over a thousand “people,” is constantly being wooed by openly gay Dan (“I hate poofy men”). Though they have rubbed fake tan into each other’s butts, the first gay sex on a reality show looks nothing more than a distant twinkle in Dan’s eyes.
ASHES, ASHES, ALL FALL DOWN
The British government today announced they are sending a leaflet to every British home, giving advice on how to survive a terrorist attack. The 22-page pamphlet begins with a hugely unfunny nod to ’60s hippie mantra, “turn on,
tune in, drop out,” advising little terrified Britishers to “go in, stay in, tune in,” i.e. go home, turn on your Bakelite radio, make a nice cup of tea, and listen as the bombs fall.
Key survival kit includes candles (presumably so you can pour wax on each other when you get bored), a torch (for recreating those scary bits from the X Files) and baked beans – a disgusting concoction of tomato sauce and small beans beloved by the British, causing terrible flatulence and surely not a great idea in confined spaces.
In a face-off between state department advice to Yanks and the British version, we worked out who is more likely to survive a terrorist attack :
US: One gallon of water per person per day and three-days’ supply of
UK: Some bottles of Highland Spring and a can of baked beans
US: Plastic sheeting and duct tape.
UK: Er, nothing. (oh, sorry – some “useful phone numbers”)
US: Flashlight, whistle, and dust sheet to filter air.
UK: Some credit cards, in case you feel like some new Manola Blahniks.
Oh, you think we jest, but this is all real advice. Want more stuff you don’t need to know about terrorist attack? Check out the British government website: www.pfe.gov.uk
PS: The Yanks might live. But we’d have new shoes.