Surreptitiously reading Roman Polanski’s court transcripts, so you don’t have to.
We’ve got quite a female-centic ragbag of raging oestrogen this week, fellow gossip hounds. Must have been a drought in the cocoa beanfields, or something - as a gurl, I’m no agricultural expert - but for whatever reason, female celebs have been over-shaking the Crazy onto their chips lately. Who exactly would dare disturb me so, you might ask; Lady Gaga? Peaches Geldof? Mary Hanafin? No, kids. In a much more sinister turn, usually-bland bunnies like Beyonce have just been spotted Dancing On The Broken Mirror - shall we investigate? Let’s!
Ms. Knowles is under fire for nearly setting everyone backstage at Singapore’s F1 Rocks concert … well, on fire. The Pear-Shaped One reportedly hogged all of the air conditioning, causing nearby inconsequential mortals to pass out. Supa’sta’ DJ Seb Fontaine suffered heatstroke, and all! I know it wouldn’t be the first time that someone involved in the dance scene suffered heatstroke (nor would it be the first time someone passed out in Beyonce’s vicinity), but Seb just wanted “to keep cool”. It’s a reasonable request from a man who tragically hasn’t been cool since 1998*. Beyonce, you heartless cow!
Also negatively affected by The Entity Known As Be-yoink!-ce is poor old Lindsay Lohan, who was forced out of her dressing room by Bey’s entourage, who claimed it as it was bigger, and she could just about manoeuvre her arse around it. It’s never pretty to see 76 backing dancers bully an addled skeleton into sleeping in a cardboard box in the hall, so at least we can draw some small solace from the rumour that Beyonce’s 12 wind-machines blew one of her $250,000 earrings off. The drama!
Beyonce’s not the most unreasonable woman featured this week, surprisingly. No, that dubious honour goes to Nelly Furtado, who has stated publicly, without embarrassment or fear of damaging her social standing, that she was “inconsolable” when Oasis split up. Yes, inconsolable. Can’t she just grow up and buy The Beatles’ back catalogue like the rest of us? Apparently, Nelly used to send Liam Gallagher fanmail as a young wan, hoping that he would be intrigued enough by her accompanying photos to ask her out. The then-unripe pop tart didn’t float Mr. Gallagher’s boat however, as he had already all the pop tart he needed in whichever Appleton he’s saddled with. And possibly because he can’t read.
Sadly, more “incorrigible” than “inconsolable” is Lily Allen, who went from swearing off music forever to announcing new tour plans in the space of a weekend. In all fairness, the girl seems to have more career changes than an undercover cop in a Hollywood comedy - singer, actress, drugdealer, crimefighter (yeah, I know), chav spokeswoman, scourge of reggae singers, notorious lush … I propose that this is a potent sign that she just cannot be taken seriously, which suits me and my evil pirating ways just fine. Arrr!
Perhaps Lily is taking her buddy, and fellow notorious outlaw, Kate Moss under her wing? It’s been suggested that Kate has joined the Performing Rights Society because she’s planning to become a rockstar. Y’know, to go with the lifestyle she nicked from Keith Richards. Kate has said in the past that rockstar was her second career choice after model, which must have made for a very awkward Careers Day at school. Still, it’s not as if Kate hasn’t dabbled in the glamorous world of guest-vocalling before, and having had a disinterested listen, I can confirm that her voice isn’t all that awful, in the same way that a bowl of unsugared cornflakes isn’t all that terrible, considering the starving babies in the Concern ads.
And lastly, although I do accept he’s not quite a girl, Marilyn Manson has been diagnosed with Swine Flu.
The gallant chap was quick to reassure his fans that he didn’t get the nasty virus from “fu*king a pig“.
“My past choices in women have, in ‘no way’ contributed to me acquiring this mysterious sickness“, he declared, missing perhaps the fact that looking like two coloured contact lenses stapled to an inflated pig’s bladder is much more likely what people will put the whole mess down to. Look at him up there, as depressed as any Jedi in the middle of a Monday morning Walk Of Shame could be. Swine flu is the least of his problems.
* I actually really like Seb Fontaine, but don’t tell my indie-rawker buddies, ok? They’re still getting over my Paul Oakenfold ringtone.
