Thursday, 30 September 2010

Fittie Of The Week: Liam Payne.


Liam Payne is only 16, and is therefore a controversial candidate for Fittie Of The Week, but as we all know I'm all about controversy. LIAM PAYNE'S GONNA EAT YA:


This is obviously a joke, readers. Liam Payne is actually singing a song here, rather than extending his jaw in order to swallow a human whole. I tell you what, I definitely would. Truthfully I can't find any photos of him looking over 14 years old, so let's watch his audition again and remember why we (I) fell in love with him in the first place:



Oof.

Friday, 24 September 2010

The Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup.


Gloomily, I am back at University in a matter of days now. Not too bad, my first day back I'm only in for two and a half hours, and I don't actually start till 5pm, so I can't complain too much about being overworked. Annoyingly, though, the only day I don't have an early start is a Friday, which means that my new night for going out is going to have to become a Thursday, which is notoriously shite in Newcastle unless you're after going to Stonelove which I am certainly not. I fear my social life is going to suffer this year. What a load of balls. Never mind that though, famous people (namely Katy sodding Perry as it happens) have been up to all kinds of shite this week, and you can read all about it in this week's Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup...

1. Brand and Lambert vs. The Paps. (Just Jared/Holy Moly)

Paparazzi beware.

By this stage in the game we've seen basically every inch of Katy Perry except her vajayjay. I can understand why she'd want to keep it under wraps, vaginas are absolutely disgusting. Vile, they are. However, even über slags like Katy Perry should be given privacy and dignity, regardless of the provocative nature of their clothes. One paparazzi photographer disagreed with this idea this week, however, when he decided to try and stick his lens up Katy's dress.

Now this by itself is a disrespectful act, but at the time Katy was at the airport with her comedian boyfriend Russell Brand, who failed to see the funny side of the whole thing and rather than saying "oh, mate, not cool", instead chose to beat the guy up. This was quite silly, though, as many people around at the time had cameras what with them all being photographers and all, so silly Russell ended up getting arrested for battery. Katy Perry, of course, was simply loving the attention and took to her Twitter to defend her detained husband:

I wish some man loved me enough to beat up a photographer for me. As if photographers hadn't taken enough of a beating this week, celebrity homosexual Adam Lambert was trying to innocently sunbathe in a stupid fucking hat when he lashed out at photographers, with what can only be described as a hilarious struggle between homo and paparazzi ensuing. Let's get a look, shall we?:
What a stupid fucking hat. And last time Adam Lambert bent a man over in that position it wasn't just the zoom lens that was extending. DO YOU GET IT? BECAUSE ADAM LAMBERT IS A HOMOSEXUAL. WHEN HE HAS SEX WITH OTHER MEN THEY ARE OFTEN BENT OVER IN FRONT OF HIM MUCH LIKE THAT PHOTOGRAPHER. DO YOU GET IT? Good. Fabulous. What's next?

2. Kelly Osbourne fucking hates Dannii Minogue, unlike the rest of the world who are completely indifferent about her (even Kylie is "on the fence") (Not really, it's her sister she's probably quite fond of her). (Digital Spy)

SHAROOOOOOOOOOON (actually this image depicts her daughter, Kelly).

Before I begin this tale what I would first of all like to say is: What the fuck is a publisher doing allowing Dannii Minogue to write her life story? I mean I don't dislike Dannii Minogue at all, but let's be honest she is completely unremarkable, isn't she? The thing is, though, she isn't even shit and desperate like Lisa Scott-Lee. If Lisa Scott-Lee had a book out fair enough it wouldn't quite be War and Peace, but at least it would be a trashy tale of desperation and C-list parties. In fact, I'd quite like to read it if I'm honest. But Dannii Minogue? Writing a book? Really?

On that note, the News Of The World published extracts of Dannii's book this week, including a particular fight with Sharon Osbourne which saw Sharon shouting and swearing at her, seemingly for no reason. We all know that since Sharon left we can all pretty much decipher that what happened was:

1. Sharon was pissed off that Dannii was there when she has made no remarkable contribution to pop music (although Don't Wanna Lose This Groove is quite this good but would be nothing without the Madonna sample).
2. Sharon therefore decided to go around the place slagging Dannii off, presuming Simon would see the funny side.
3. He didn't.
4. Enter: Cheryl Cole.

So anyway, in these extracts Sharon sounds like something of a monster who raves and rants about the place. She was on the Asda adverts, for fucks sake, how evil can she be? So anyway, let's see what Sharon's daughter Kelly Osbourne, the real star of this story, had to say on her Twitter page:

Do you know what? Kelly Osbourne is right. Everyone was on Sharon's side of the argument, until Sharon started behaving in an unladylike manner on TV while Dannii remained silent about the whole thing (unbeknownst to the rest of the world she was fucking furious, not that you'd be able to tell by looking at her face which was completely motionless thanks to gratuitous abuse of botox). What else, Kel?

I'd just like to stress that this tweet is completely untouched, Kelly Osbourne has actually suggested that Dannii Minogue, off the M&S advert is actually the devil. Beelzebub. Satan. Lucifer. That is what she is saying. As a Catholic, this is what Wikipedia says I believe about the devil:

thedevil.png


Right. Kelly Osbourne believes that Dannii Minogue is responsible for all suffering in the world? Pain. Suffering. AIDS. Social injustice. War. Peril. Famine. Corruption. All thanks to the woman what sang Put The Needle On It. On an unrelated note, who would like to hear my top 3 favourite songs about the devil?

SILLY OLD DANIEL'S TOP 3 FAVOURITE SONGS WHAT KELLY OSBOURNE RECKONS ARE ACTUALLY ABOUT DANNII MINOGUE WHICH IS POSSIBLY AN EXAGGERATION IN RETROSPECT.

I'd just like to stress one more time, that someone in the world believes that Dannii Minogue is the devil. Amazing.

3. If there is one party I wish I'd been invited to, it is here. (Perez Hilton)

I know what you're thinking, but this is not myself and Carla in the old days.

I'm still getting over the amazingness that is Rihanna and Katy Perry's friendship. Let's once again look at this photo from the VMAs and revel in it:

4lasses.jpg


That's just reminded me actually, I was proper chuffed this week because Ke$ha tweeted me, except it turned out it wasn't actually her. It was an impostor. How fucking gutting is that? More importantly though, how hilarious that I got excited for nothing. See, I'm so heartless I can even laugh at my own ridiculous gaffs.

So anyway, Rihanna is Katy Perry's maid-of-honour in her upcoming nuptials, so it was her job to throw her an amazing bachelorette party, or hen do as they're known here in the United Kingdom. Somehow I find it hard to envisage Rihanna planning a party which would culminate in Katy Perry passed out outside the nearest Yates's with an L-plate on her back and an inflatable cock under her arm. However, that's not to say the party wasn't an absolute trash-fest. The party took place in Las Vegas for starters with 25 of Katy's friends enjoying entertainment from Cirque du Soleil, before heading off to a "secret location" where Katy tweeted the following the next day:

Class-ay. LOOK AT THE CAKE RIHANNA HAD MADE:

There are no words.

4. The X Factor is getting a bit murky, innit? (The Sun)

Malaria had really gotten the better of Cheryl...

Chloe Victoria completely split the public's opinion when she appeared on The X Factor on Saturday, and I dunno about you but I want to watch her audition again before we go any further into her history, background and adventures:



Let's lift this completely out of context, folks. What I see in this video is a young lass with a bit too much makeup on who wants to have a laugh, but also believes she has what it takes to be a part of the country's biggest talent competition and maybe give her daughter a better laugh. I'm not saying this was a Susan Boyle moment, or even a Leona Lewis moment, but I'm so glad that Simon Cowell decided to give her a chance, because I do see real potential in her. And you can say what you like about her being a slut or a tramp, but she has her own look and her own style, and that's a lot braver than someone like Marlon Mackenzie who looks basically like JLS threw up on him.

Unfortunately, the truth is slowly starting to unravel and it seems that Chloe has something of a troublesome past. For starters, she's been arrested over 200 times (who has time to be arrested that many times?) and it's been alleged this week that she has worked as an escort. While she has denied claims that she's a prostitute, The Sun newspaper seem quite determined to shame her, calling her a "bare-faced liar" and posting a rather embarrassing clip of her cavorting on a bed with not much on.

Meanwhile, in further X Factor news I was out in Newcastle on Wednesday night when I got a text from my friend Carla, whose blog you may well have discovered my own through. The text contained information about one of the stars of Ablisa. Let's remind ourselves of their 10/10 audition once again:



To be honest, I cannot rephrase the revelation that Carla made to me any more hilariously than she did, and so for the first time, readers, I welcome you to take a peek at my iPhone:


Again I'd like to stress this text is 100% accurate; first she punched her mate in the face (much to the envy of the rest of the UK who would also love to punch them both in the face) declaring "she's made me look like a twat", then she got her tits out for The Daily Sport. Now either we can pretend that knowledge itself is enough in this scenario, or we can accept that we have a morbid curiosity and want to see the photos. Carla knew better than to even ask me, and so as I sipped my drink in a gay bar far away, I feasted my eyes upon that strange girl's even stranger breasts. So go on. Click here to see that lass from Ablisa's actual bare breasts. I dare you.

ERGH DID YOU CLICK IT? ISN'T IT WORSE THAN YOU COULD EVER HAVE IMAGINED???

I love you, X Factor.

5. I'm not quite done talking about Katy Perry, or Twitter for that matter. (Twitter)

Her face is up there, Elmo.

My friend Katie thinks that Katy Perry is a bad influence on young girls. I counter-argued that by saying that Katy Perry probably has no desire to appeal to young girls, and if the young girls' parents let them listen to songs like Peacock and Ur So Gay then that is their own fault. However, there is no denying that when you film a cameo for Sesame Street like Katy Perry did this week, there is obviously a child-loving agenda to your career plan. Mind you, there is no denying that the clip itself is absolutely lovely, and you can view it for yourself here:



How cute do they both want to be, for fucks sake. Thing is, though, some of the parents weren't happy with Katy's choice of outfit. Apparently Katy's breasts are too prominent in the clip, and it's not suitable for children, so the scene has been axed from the upcoming series.

Am I the only one who believes this is unbelievably sexist?? We all know that usually I'm the first to call Katy Perry an attention-seeking skank, but is there anything really that bad about what she's wearing in the clip? True, she isn't exactly in full burkha chatting to Elmo about golf, but the fact of the matter is that Katy Perry has almost comically over-sized breasts that are going to be prominent no matter what she wears, so Katy embraces this by not wearing much at all. If you ask me, the message Sesame Workshop have sent out is that breasts are something to be ashamed of, and they definitely are not. Poor old Katy was left to break the news on (where else?) her Twitter this week and she seemed (ironically) quite deflated:

Her fiancé, however, managed to see the funny side:


And so ends this week's Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup
Cheers for reading!
Yee-haw!
x

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Fittie Of The Week: Marlon Mackenzie.


Are you watching The X Factor? I am. It's been canny, hasn't it? We might as well pack up and go home though because it's obviously not going to get any better than this little gem:



With Big Brother gone forever, it's good to know that The X Factor are more than capable of fulfilling my need for utter trash. Let the freaks pour in. Meanwhile, did you see Marlon Mackenzie's utterly unremarkable audition in front of the judges? He did this whiny version of Ain't No Sunshine- a song I, admittedly, have never been a fan of- but then D-listers all over Twitter including Aaron Renfree and Lloyd Daniels (both of whom deserve their very own Fittie Of The Week special mention at some point) started showing their support...

...and it become increasingly obvious that Marlon was more than probably somebody whose demo Simon had heard previously and invited along to audition, hideously killing the point of the competition in the first place (he'd actually auditioned before claiming he was a "house-husband" which I suppose translates as being "unemployed"). Still, let's watch his audition in the interests of being impartial:



What a bloody racket. Still, here he is doing what all men do best; taking his top off and showing a bit of pube in their MySpace photos:

Fabulous.

Monday, 20 September 2010

Big Gay Monday: Morrissey.


I fucking love Morrissey, and have been wanting to write a Big Gay Monday about him for some time. However, as is often the case with my blog-writing these days, I couldn't be arsed. These Big Gay Monday things have to be planned, before I write them I have to sit down and think about why I think these things are so mint and give examples of how they're relevant to gay culture otherwise I end up writing an absolute pile of incoherent nonsense that people won't want to read, and I don't want that at all because on the contrary to what my laziness and nonchalance towards it may suggest, I really do love this blog and I like that people seem to enjoy reading it. Just a week ago I was proud to find that someone from school I rarely if ever spoke to had it in the bookmarks of her phone YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE (apols for being so drunk when we spoke, as well). But as I lie here on my bed, laptop on my knee, irritable from the heat of this house and the fact it's now 48 hours since I've been outside, I think it's time to chat on about why Morrissey is such an important candidate for Big Gay Monday. You might think he is quite an unusual choice, but hear me out.

You're not right in the head and nor am I and this is why I like you.

For starters, the indie scene may herald Morrissey as their leaders, wearing their battered Smiths t-shirts under their charity shop denim shirts (SOMEONE SOUND THE HYPOCRISY ALARM PLEASE) but the campness of the music of The Smiths (and, eventually, Morrissey's solo efforts) can not be lost on these people. The man sings non-stop of tragedy and melodrama in his life, he essentially follows on from Judy Garland and Édith Piaf. If he's not crooning about something, he's whining about something else and that's what makes Morrissey such an icon; he doesn't feel things by halves. He isn't sad, he's devastated; he isn't angry, he's fucking outraged; he isn't annoyed, he's bloody well disgusted. Of course this does mean that sometimes he says things he doesn't mean and ends up looking like a bell end, but such is life when you're an extremist. Truthfully, I wouldn't want Morrissey any other way, he's just a passionate guy. And isn't that what being a true gay icon is really about- passion?

Without wanting to pretend I'm someone who knows what he's talking about when it comes to music (I did just shell out £30 to go and see James Blunt in February), another reason I love Morrissey is his lyrics. I genuinely believe that, alongside Neil Tennant of Pet Shop Boys and Rufus Wainwright, Morrissey is one of the greatest lyricists of the past 30 years seemingly without trying. He expresses real emotion by saying, you know, stuff people actually say. There's no "oh baby yeah", no real poetry to mask what he really means, he just sings (presumably) what he's feeling, or at the very least what we're meant to think he's feeling when he performs. His music includes everything we gays like to revel in-- exaggerated romance, twisted humour and utter tragedy; and then there's This Charming Man which is just good to have a bop to.

I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does.

Alright, pretentious stuff aside it can not be denied that there is something very sexy about a young Morrissey. Maybe it's the fact that he always seemed so troubled, his moody expression and his sad eyes. And then he'll do a sort of half-smile as if he was only joking the whole time. MY LORD. I just love him. Maybe that's just me. And then when we delve into his personal life there's the fact that he's never confirmed or denied that he is gay, with songs like Hand In Glove and You Have Killed Me supposedly masking homosexual imagery. More intriguingly still, when The Smiths were at their height, Morrissey was celibate and told interviewers that he was "asexual".

One of my favourite things about Morrissey is that he has this absolutely grotesque sense of humour. He has that urge to shock people like the more flamboyant characters of Madonna and Lady GaGa, but just because he's more subtle doesn't make him any less of a provocateur. His recent comments about the Chinese people were clearly not meant with the maliciousness the media rehashed them with, I think Morrissey just wanted a few monocles to fall into a few cocktail glasses. More importantly, he's just a big bitch! He was once going on about Madonna and said: "I wouldn’t be surprised if she made that African boy she adopted into a coat and wore him for 15 minutes, then threw it away." How grotesque. I fucking love him.

Sweetness, I was only joking.

There's more, I'm just going to list reasons Morrissey is amazing. He sings songs about completely mundane things but makes them beautiful (something only someone from the North of England can truly perfect, again see Neil Tennant for more). He likes animals more than people and therefore doesn't hold back with his scathing remarks. People copied his hair (is there really a greater mark of a gay icon than that?) He's influenced artists you would never even have considered like Girls Aloud, Scissor Sisters and Lady GaGa. Russell Brand has a cat named after him.

Look, Morrissey is just the best. And if you disagree then fuck off, you're wrong.

MY TOP 3 MORRISSEY

Sunday, 19 September 2010

The (Slightly Belated) Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup.


It's been a week of ups and downs in my world. I had what was probably one of the best nights out of my life on Monday night, but it was also my dear friend Emma's last night out before she headed down to Leeds to start Uni, and I've just been letting things get me down more than they really ought to have so I apologise if over the past week I have depressed you. I have had a lot of fun though, mainly due to the awesome people I surround myself with. I don't say nice things enough but I really do love my friends. Cheers, lads. So anyway, you haven't come to hear about me (although my own personal roundup would probably be quite eventful as it happens, I've cried about six times this week and have kissed two boys and two girls in what can only be described as my inner bisexual coming out), you're here cos it's Friday (well, it was when I wrote this info) and that means that it's time for the Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup (I'm not writing about anything that's happened since Friday as if you ask me that would be perverse)...

1. Lady GaGa is still doing mental things. (Digital Spy)

Get real.

"Little monsters" with the "Haus of GaGa" as their religious views on Facebook piss me off enormously, because it's as if they have nothing else but Lady GaGa going on in their lives (unfortunately for them, this is often the case). However, the quest for a GaGa-inspired religion took a big step towards realisation this week as it was revealed that Lady GaGa is undergoing an ordination. That's right, folks, Lady GaGa is going to be a vicar.

Actually, though, it isn't a publicity stunt (hmmm) and instead she's doing it so she can perform gay marriages for them closest to her. What a lovely thing to do, because we all know how much Lady GaGa loves them homosexuals. Only fair, really, we are keeping her in a job. According to "a source" (someone the journalist has invented, most probably) GaGa is taking it very seriously and has completed "almost all the coursework". Of course, if my A Levels taught me anything it's that when you say "my coursework is almost done", what you mean is "I haven't yet decided what I'm writing my coursework about". This reminds me of the time my first boyfriend broke up with me the night before my Spanish coursework was due in, and I had to write the whole thing through my snivelling and sobbing, after having thrown my mobile at my bedroom wall and smashing it. They say the gays can't throw but I proved them wrong that night. How embarrassing.

Anyway, if that wasn't enough GaGa craziness for you, then the VMAs took place this week and only one interesting thing happened, ie. Lady GaGa wore a dress made of meat. This happened almost a week ago so you've probably already seen, but what's the harm in looking at it again, eh?:

Them bell ends down at PETA are proper pissed off with her, claiming that this outfit made out of raw meat would actually be infested with maggots, but I'm more concerned about whoever GaGa was sat next to. Imagine you'd headed out to the VMAs wearing your finest, your hair all done and your makeup immaculate. And then someone comes and sits next to you in an edible dress smelling like Dicksons in Hebburn newtown. Suffice to say, GaGa was not invited to party with the cool kids:

Lovely.

2. All that's missing is the sea... (Holy Moly)

Twat.

George Michael has been proper naughty. I'm sure you remember a few weeks ago George Michael drove his car into a Snappy Snaps photo shop after one too many tokes on the old spliffy spliff. Well it seemed that George has pushed his luck for the last time, and now he's in jail for the next 8 weeks, which must have been quite a shock for the singer who's been arrested for drug-driving countless town without a prison sentence. However, because he's taken the piss so many times and could have killed someone, it's off to the clink with him.

I'm not being funny, though, but 8 weeks is fucking nothing. Drug-driving is a serious crime, he could have really hurt or even killed someone, and he's done it more times than I've had hot dinners (however, we all know how I feel about hot dinners so this is probably not even an exaggeration) so if you ask me 8 weeks isn't long e-bloody-nough. Big Brother lasted 11 bloody weeks this year, surely George Michael should have a longer sentence than Mario Mugane. Although they do have a lot in common, they're both prone to randomly exposing themselves, they're both desperate for any attention they can get and they both make me ashamed to be a homosexual.

One thing's for certain, though. George Michael will be limping out of that prison at the end of his sentence.

3. One good thing came out of Ultimate Big Brother (don't bloody tell Nadia though) (OK!)

Real deal.

Ultimate Big Brother was a bit of a non-starter, wasn't it? It seemed to do more harm than good (except, of course, for Brian Dowling) as Nadia Almada thundered towards a nervous breakdown, we were all reminded of the downside to Nikki Grahame's horrendous character, and Chantelle Houghton found herself locked in a house with her really quite fit ex-husband Preston who she'd spent just under a year married to before flying off the rails, having shite injected into her face and becoming what can only be described as Chloe Victoria. Well the nation watched as Chantelle awkwardly realised she still had feelings for the frankly stunning Preston, while he remained oblivious and spent his time smoking in the garden and not really speaking to anyone.

They both opened up to OK! magazine about how they both felt they got no closure following the end of their split, and they both tried to make the other one feel like they didn't care and were getting on with their lives. And they both succeeded. So Chantelle turned into an über-tramp, and Preston turned into a bearded fatty. Apparently, they're now going to talk in private about where they go from this point onwards, although I hope for both of their sakes that they patch things up. They are obviously right together, they make each other happy. I think if they just change their status to "in a relationship" for a while and don't rush things, they could really make a go of it. And this is coming from a cynic.

More importantly, if they go on dates and stuff then Preston might become famous and respected again, which would mean more lushness from this man:

Gorgeous. He needs to take care of Chantelle. She is beautiful and lovely and so is he. They need to make it work or I will lose all faith in love and end up even more like Miss Havisham, sitting around in my wedding dress smelling like gin and semen.

4. Don't dare tell Katy Perry you don't fancy her. (Daily Mail)

Cracking tits.

Katy Perry has a new album which is called Teenage Dream. Have you heard the title track? It's very good. It goes like this "deeee deee deeee deeeee living a teeeeeeee-naaaaage dreeeeeeam". It's beautiful. So anyway, right, she has to promote this album by performing in a few different places. And when she was performing in her hometown she saw a man named Shane Lopes. Now, you don't know Shane Lopes and neither do I. But Katy Perry does.

"You were the most popular kid in my class!" shouted Katy Perry, "But you never wanted to date me". Now I don't know about you, but I'm back on Katy Perry's team, and the idea that someone didn't want to go out with her is utterly baffling to me. One day I'd like to humiliate all of the boys who wouldn't go out with me (of course, it would take up an entire concert for me just to list them), and that's just what Katy Perry did, performing her get-a-sense-of-humour-if-you-think-it's-homophobic track Ur So Gay and dedicating it to Shane Lopes.

Fabulous.

5. There is no fucking stopping Cheryl Cole. (Now)

Cheryl leading the world's fiercest conga.

I don't know if you remember, but Cheryl Cole has had a tough year on her hands. Some prick cheated on her about 500 times, she's undergoing a divorce, she caught a life-threatening illness, while her back was turned Nicole Scherzinger swept in and won everyone over and as if that wasn't enough, her so-called "boyfriend" is a fruit. But is Cheryl Cole going to mope around and sulk? No she fucking isn't.

"I'm not depressed. Not me", she says. "I've got to keep going. I have to perform. I have to deliver".

Fuck you, world. You're not going to get her down. She can promise this. And speaking of Cheryl promising shite, she has a new song which I'm sure you know by this point is called Promise This. I'm on the fence about it at the moment, it's definitely alright at the very least but the video is just...there's nothing memorable about it. Cheryl hasn't really worn anything that's stuck in your mind since Fight For This Love really, has she? Anyway, let's have a look, shall we? You can judge it for yourself:



And that's that.
Yee-haw!

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

Fittie Of The Week: Zac Efron.

I have never heard of Wonderland magazine before, but my boyfriend Zac Efron has done a 50s-inspired spread for them and it is hot hot hot. I've been waiting for an excuse to make Zac Efron Fittie Of The Week since I kicked the whole thing off, and get a look at this:


CROTCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Fabulous. Unfortunately, in less hot Zac news he has grown what can only be described as a minging beard at the premier of his new film Charlie St. Cloud. Fancy a look-sie?

GROSS. On the other hand, though...


CROTCHHHHHH. Lovely.

Friday, 10 September 2010

The (Quite Serious, Actually) Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup.

Hello everybody. It's September now. Strange, isn't it? Actually it could be stranger, seeing as how we are now into the second week of September, but that is neither here nor there. I had a cocktail with Kate about 4 hours ago, and now I think I have a hangover. This is worrying. I went to Pacific and had what is called a Green Goblin. Should you wish to make a Green Goblin yourself, you can mix a shot of Amaretto with a shot of Tropical Sourz and stick some lemonade in it as well. However, I recommend you don't, 'cos it was vile.

The stories in this week's Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup unfortunately deal with issues such as racism, adultery and suicide. There is nothing funny about any of these things, I must say. Therefore, to lighten the mood I have decided to replace my traditional "photos of celebrities with a 3/10 joke underneath" with "photos of Deirdre Barlow" to lighten the mood a bit. I'm also going to start each story with a limerick. My blog name is Silly Old Daniel, so we need to keep things silly otherwise we'll all end up killing ourselves, won't we? And that would be shit.

Basically, if this is your very first Celebrity Roundup and you're not familiar with the drill, then what we're gonna do is talk about stories you've probably already heard of from the past seven days of celebrity gossip, and we're gonna take the piss out of everything. It's a reet laugh. Usually.

1. Oh Christ, what's Morrissey said this time? (NME)

Morrissey is an indie band preacher
Who loves furry animal creatures
But get out of his face
Or he'll slag off your race
And offend Chinese lawyers and teachers.
(Apols. This was a poor start to the limericks. I sense this will not be a recurring feature)

The other day I logged onto Twitter and saw that #chinesemorrissey was a trending topic. "How lovely," I thought, "It's always nice when Morrissey gets a bit of attention, isn't it?" I bloody love, Morrissey, you see. The unfortunate thing was that when I did a spot of research, it turned out that he'd rather foolishly decided to label the Chinese race as a "sub-species", which is a pretty appalling thing for anyone to say, but when you're Morrissey and everyone already thinks you're a racist bell-end you're hardly doing yourself any favours, are you?

We all know that Morrissey loves animals. Kittens. Bunnies. Fucking loves them. And when they're mistreated he proper gets the hump about it all. I think that's lovely, myself. Not enough people care about animals. Personally, I couldn't give a shite and once giggled gaily when my old Spanish teacher (literally one of the best people I have ever met in all my days) brought in her new scarf which was made entirely of rabbit, but it's nice when other people care. Unfortunately, Morrissey possibly cares a bit too much.

When talking about the way animals are treated in China he said to Guardian reporters (who probably didn't do a combined course at Sunderland University hoping someone somewhere would read their filthy celebrity-themed blog and instead went about getting their NCTJs like proper journalists): "Did you see that thing on the news about their [them people what live in China what I think are, like, called Chinese people] treatment of animals...you can't help but feel that the Chinese are a subspecies".

For fuck's sake, man! You cannot go around saying things like that, can you? It's just not right. Fair enough, if there are people in China who boil their pets when they're still alive and other such shite, then those people are awful, but you cannot go blaming an entire race for the mistakes of a few people. Annoyingly, in the same interview no mention was given to the woman who put her cat in the bin, which is what I really want to hear his views on.

Morrissey, you bell end. Stop being racist. Thing is, though, he might be radical and ignorant and over the top but he did give us this:



...so it's swings and roundabouts really, innit? (No, I suppose not. Racism is really shite. But you know as well as I do he probably didn't mean it. The daft old fool).

2. It turns out Wayne Rooney's been giving people money and then putting his penis inside of them. (News Of The World)

There once was a bell-end called Wayne
Whose wife was exceptionally plain
When her back was turned
His face scrunched and gurned
As he ejaculated inside women who were on the game
(I think in about 50 years people will be studying these limericks as part of their English Literature A Level).

I dunno about you but I never liked Coleen Rooney. There was always something smug about her "real women" campaign. As if skinny women weren't real women. Let me tell you, my friends Katie and Anna may be very slightly but I can fully assure you that they are all woman. Thing is, though, she's never directly harmed me so I wouldn't wish ill of her but unfortunately that wasn't enough to save her from public humiliation this week.

You see, while there was an enormous baby gestating inside of her, she probably didn't feel like shagging her husband Wayne Rooney very much. I don't blame her, I never feel like shagging him and I don't even have a giant baby in my womb or my cervix or wherever it is these females stash their young before they're ready to squeeze them out. Thing is, though, it seems like when you're a footballer if your wife says "no not tonight" what you hear is "tell you what, go and fuck five or six other people while I'm at home cleaning your house and telling all my friends how happy we are".

Wayne Rooney was no exception to all this as it was revealed this week that he'd been shagging prostitutes left, right and centre-- at over £1000 a pop. To put this in perspective, it would take me 6 months of saving up my wages from the Dogs to be able to afford a night with one of Rooney's girls (of course, we all know he wouldn't be with her the whole night, you can tell just by looking at him it only takes him four or five thrusts before he's completely spent and exhaustedly spurts all over the poor lass's stomach/tits/hair/wherever it is straight men prefer to spunk up, I don't know a lot about it).

As time went by he texted one of the prostitutes and invited her over to shag at their family home. How low. I mean come on now, the last thing you want when you're bringing a child into the world is having a settee in the front room your guests can catch crabs from. On an unrelated note, the prostitute in question's name is Jenny. Can you imagine a name more wholesome than Jenny, and yet she is the prostitute possibly responsible for breaking up one of Britain's favourite couples. There aren't many names more wholesome than Jenny, like, are there?

Names more wholesome than Jenny:
1. Susan
2. Lucille
3. Deborah (but not Debra, which is a whole other kettle of fish)

That's that.

3. Poor old Nadia, eh? (Digital Spy)

There once was a Portugese tranny,
Who in 2004 seemed quite canny
But this time around
She was not quite as sound
And now everyone thinks she's a fanny.
(I'm not going to lie to you, I am rather fond of this particular limerick.)

Poor old Nadia Almada was booted out of the Ultimate Big Brother house this week and looked like a deer caught in the headlights. That is if the aforementioned deer was being booed, jeered at and essentially chewed up and spat out by the Great British Public who had turned out in full force to collectively rip Nadia to shreds. Where did it all go wrong, eh?

The weird thing is that before entering the house, Nadia was favourite to win Ultimate Big Brother. Most people were filled with fond memories of her time in the 2004 house; showering in her heels, laughing infectiously and generally behaving like a royal diva. I even named her as my favourite ever housemate before the start of the eleventh series. Thing is, though, what people sometimes forget is that "behaving like a diva" is exactly the same as "behaving like a bitch". And this is where it all started to go downhill for Nadia.

We liked Nadia first time around because we all knew she used to be a man, but none of her housemates did. She was on a quest to be accepted, and one could argue that a landslide win on Big Brother shows that a nation has welcomed you into their hearts. We were able to overlook her quick temper and argumentative nature in 2004 because she also had so much to offer us with her "diva" behaviour. Another point, though, is that we don't mind regular people behaving like "divas" because it shows balls. But people with minimal amounts of fame behaving like "divas" is no good because it makes them "wannabes" with a false sense of entitlement. We really do build them up just to break them down.

Fast-forward to last week, Nadia's eviction. She'd behaved like a bitch, she'd caused fights and she'd generally provoked a lot of people to pick up the phone and vote her out. Out she came, and she was not expecting it. There was booing and there was shouting, all at a woman who's victory at winning the fifth series is my favourite Big Brother moment. At one point in her hideously uncomfortable eviction interview Davina McCall said to her "I think you need to go and have a good cry". And she did. Vanessa Feltz said she saw her "sobbing", and ended up not appearing on that night's Big Brother's Big Mouth.

Since then a special episode of Come Dine With Me has aired where Nadia started arguments with Brian Belo and snatched Sophie Reade's dinner plate from under her. She's since told reporters that appearing on Big Brother has ruined her life, arguments with rapper Coolio were doctored so that many of his "transphobic" remarks were not aired to make it appear Nadia was hot-headed and starting arguments for no reason, and she has told friends she wanted to "end it all".

Tragically, following this it's been revealed that Nadia was rushed to hospital on Wednesday following a suspected suicide attempt. OK, Nadia was a bit silly in the Ultimate house, maybe she was a bit too boisterous and should have thought before she spoke a bit more. But for a TV show to drive a woman to suicide is all a bit much, surely. This is a woman who was once on top of the world, elated to be voted the nation's favourite. Poor Nadia, eh?

4. Lady GaGa continues to do mental things. (Guardian)

Lady GaGa was faced with a block
She wanted to dress up and shock
So in her mental head
She spoke to artists who were dead
But don't accuse her of having a cock
(Lady GaGa has a vagina.)

When she started out, we didn't think Lady GaGa was mental. We thought she was a bit unusual, a trifle eccentric, but we're British, right? We like all that, right? We didn't think that at some point down the line she'd actually become howl at the moon, eat the carpet, smear the walls with shite mental. For them what had forgotten that GaGa is a walking nutjob, it was revealed this week that when GaGa is faced with the dilemma of what to wear, she called on her old friend-- the spirit of Andy Warhol. Of course.

Sources from GaGa's camp are insisting that the popstar- who has claimed the late Andy Warhol was one of her main influences since the start of her career, and thanks him in the credits of her first album The Fame- constantly chats with the spirit of the artist in her mind for hours at a time. Apparently she calls on him for guidance and asks him to inspire her with her fashion choices.

I wonder if it was his decision to dress her in the meat bikini she was seen sporting on the front of Vogue Japan this week:

I'll tell you something, folks. The Key Of Awesome made their Bad Romance parody video before both the Telephone video and this photoshoot here took place. And in this video the actors are seen sporting a "bathing suit made out of raw meat" and police tape. Could it be GaGa is paying tribute to them what spoof her on YouTube? Probably not.

5. JLS want you to put something on the end of it. (The Sun)

JLS all like to have sex
Since they appeared on The Factor, X
But they don't want disease
Those pesky STDs
So they've teamed up with them down at Durex
(You'll be pleased to hear this is the last story and therefore the last time a poem will appear on the blog).

I'm not shy about my love for JLS who make horrible songs about nightclubs being alive based on music from The Sound of Music, but who are allowed to get away with it because I'd like to have sex with them. And this week they've done their bit to bring down the STD numbers down by releasing their own range of condoms with contraceptive giants Durex.

Yes, you heard correctly. Soon you will be able to purchase a box of colour-coded condoms with your favourite member of JLS on the box (this will be a tough decision for me as I cannot truthfully decide which of JLS are my favourites...although me buying them in the first place could be perceived as unjustifiably optimistic). I like this story a lot because I think it practically invites you to envisage the four members of JLS with an erection. Yes. Would you like to see the four different boxes?:

The lads are getting a lot of stick for doing this, but personally I think it's great. Anything to bring down the number of STIs flying around the night-clubs of Great Britain is brilliant, in my opinion, and while the box clearly states 16+ (it's not a game of Ker-Plunk with "age 8-80" on the side, boys) lots of people do have sex underage (not me, obviously, while all the other kids were out having sex in the park I was sat at home growing my hair and listening to Madonna) and lots of these girls will be JLS fans and it will be a lot less embarrassing for them to buy these then it would be to buy regular condoms.

Of course, the question is: what's next? Diana Vickers endorsing a line of femidoms? Taio Cruz having a range of douche products? N-Dubz brand Viagra? I will keep you posted.

And so ends this week's Silly Old Daniel Celebrity Roundup.
Hopefully next week will be cheery without the aid of Deirdre and poetry.
Yee-haw, bitches!