Trash Talk

During an If You Can’t Beat Them Join Them moment, the May Contain Nuts team (that would be me) decided to offer you some celebrity gossip. For “gossip” read “any old shit”. For “celebrity” read “who are they again?” (I would provide photos to help with the old identification thing but I really can’t be arsed.)

Shocking news backstage from the U.K. X-Factor auditions. Gary Barlow aka Gazza, aka the used to be chubby one, aka the one who knows how to wring every last £ from a pop song ... has said that there is actually very little real talent out there. Britain gasps with shock and has a sit down with a wee cup of tea and some custard creams. Nonetheless, his “spokesperson”added, we will still manage to find a bunch of girls who can’t sing and bring them together and try to persuade the nation they are The Next Big Thing. They’ll also probably find a bolshy lass from a council estate, a yoof who’s working his way through an asbo and a novelty act with big hair and two left feet that Louie will offer a record deal (particularly if they are from the oul’ country).

Gwyneth Paltrow, actress, gleeful singer(ish) and fashion designer (of a sort) has dinner with business mogul Sir Philip Green. Apparently they talked about all kinds of stuff.  And ate and drank stuff. In the photos taken by a very helpful waiter – and sold to the tabloids for a week’s wage – Sir Philip is looking very tanned. Gwyneth not so much.

Harry Windsor, just in case you is not totally up to date, he is like, 2^nd in line to the, like, king-hat thingy. Oops, MCN is forgetting Charles. Anywho, Harry Ginger, son of Princess Di (there, our circulation figs go through da roof) is dating a (get this) underwear model. Ooooh. Granny Liz says – we are not amused. One needs to sow one’s oats, but puhleeze not with a gel who takes her clothes orf in public. Florence Double Barrel Name, aforementioned underwear model, has links to the aristocracy, which is nice, but all things considered that won’t get her an invite to Braemar for drinkies of a winter’s evening.

In other news, Katie Price wants implants in her bum. A “source” close to the celeb says she’s worried that if her giant tits spontaneously deflate she’ll be left with a figure like a boy. Peter Andre is totally considering botox (try a paper bag mate), Cheryl Cole has gone blonde and is retiring from showbiz (wait, no she isn’t. Oh yes she is. Oh no she isn’t.) And in a piece of news in which we get to celebrate our inner bitch when we really should be leaving this troubled celeb alone, reports say that Amy Winehouse managed to get through an entire song. She’s hoping she can bring the bathroom mirror and hairbrush on stage with her for the next gig.

And finally there are a whole host of celebrity birthdays today but due to a lack of verification (don’t these people make this shit up?) we’re not going to publish them. We wouldn’t want to be accused of inaccuracy.

Right, I'm off to have my tongue surgically removed from the inside of my cheek.

Until next time ...