Sweary’s Jaw

Surreptitiously orchestrating mischievous anti-Moir campaigns, so you don’t have to. I suppose there’s nothing for it but to accept that it’s just that time of the year again. With the X-Factor live shows dominating weekend television like dreams of Daniel O’Donnell dominate your granny’s knicker-buying decisions, it would be rather churlish of me not to concede the odd reluctant nod. I suppose I won’t lose too many cool points for admitting that Simon Cowell’s extravaganza is rather exciting this time round. After all, it features two very special “stars” this year. They’re rhinoceros-skinned, ultra-annoying, can’t sing a note and are so far off their rockers they’ll never be reconciled with the real world, but by God, they’ve given us here at culch.ie plenty to snigger at … Whassat? Hmm? Who the Jaysus are John and Edward? I’m talking about Whitney Houston and Robbie Williams! Yes, Whitters and … er … … There’s more

Sweary’s Jaw

Surreptitiously going through Eminem’s summonses, so you don’t have to. I have learned that there’s no point in being high-minded about a gossip column. Originally, I had planned to focus on the goings-on of our more worthy high-profile heroes, rather than on preposterous knobs like Jordan or Kerry Katona. But the problem with such a well-meaning mission statement is that … well, worthy stars don’t make absolute prats of themselves, do they? They don’t court Controversy, or indeed try to talk Scandal in for “a coffee” on the way home from the local disco. You won’t catch George Clooney dogging in the Tesco car park, or all four members of Interpol coked out of their oaks on the set of America’s Next Top Model. Basically, I’m warning you that while I shall endeavour to provide an environment free from Jordan and her ilk, I cannot always be sure that the … There’s more