It hasn’t been a great month for the celebrity male; reviled, distrusted, abused, only Katie Price is keeping the battle of the sexes in check. This week we learned more about the texting habits of Ashley Cole than we perhaps, in hindsight, ever needed to know. The sometime footballer and full time bounder and cad married to pop’s own Caramel bunny was caught sending text message to a mysterious blonde secretary and there’s talk the Cole marriage is finally over.
The entire Fleet Street has become Cheryl’s over involved big sister, glowering at Ashley and pointedly sighing and leaving the room whenever he shuffles in. Presented as such a rotter, I expect him any day in a News of The World exclusive, caught in a cape twirling his moustache tying the X factor judge to the nearest rail track, all for shits and giggles.
However, there are more things fishy about this story than an Old man and the Sea convention. Firstly, Ashley claims that the pictures were taken while bored in a hotel room. How fed up could a multi millionaire footballer get in a luxurious suite that the most entertaining way he could think of passing the time was taking moody pictures of his pants on his spare mobile? Secondly, how many millionaire footballers are pay as you go? Perhaps that’s the cause of half of their problems; all the wives they should have rang, all the mistresses they should have warned, maybe all those sleazy mishaps were just down to having no credit.
Ashley then, forgetting there were pictures of his willy on it, gave this phone to an unnamed, unscrupulous friend who repaid this bizarre gift of kindness by forwarding the pictures on to the mysterious lady in admin. The riddle in the Sphinx approached the press with the pictures but didn’t want to go public for fear of losing her job. Yes, that would be a great worry for a woman on an administrator’s salary, all that money, attention and instant fame. A shy demure type who has one night stands with married footballers would melt under that pressure. She only has to look at the likes of Rebecca Loos and Abi Titmus, with all their instant wealth, and thank her lucky stars that she has a life of diary management to look forward to.
And what of Cheryl? All of this terrible press attention coming coincidentally at the incredibly difficult time of her first solo Brit appearance and public voted nomination for best single. I know- shame on my cynicism, after all it’s a real relationship we’re talking about, it’s not like someone paid them to get married. Oh wait, actually...
The inevitable Brits controversy began early about this year with Leona Lewis complaining about the event serving foie gras. Wow, I know, and some people call her boring. The star was fresh from appearing in the charity single for the Haiti disaster. Its heart warming to see all the different countries pulling together to help out; the Irish have been organising comedy nights, Britain’s been releasing fundraising records and America’s been stealing children.
First the island is devastated by earthquake, now it’s receiving aftershocks of celebrities popping up asking if anyone would like a cup of tea. They’ve had John Travolta on his plane, Angelina Jolie on some sort of peace keeping mission, and even Alexandra Burke is promising to pop over for a while. I’m sure they’re thrilled, “Yes, my house has collapsed, I haven’t eaten for days and all my family’s dead but “Bad Boys” is so catchy!”
Meanwhile the entire US of A have yet again been clasping their face in the manner of Moe from The Simpsons at the words coming out of blues guitarist John Meyer’s mouth. Imagine the crazy wanderings your mind take when you’re either half asleep, drunk or controlled by an evil alien from another planet who quest to ruin your career and reputation forms part of a grander plan to take over the planet’s minerals. Maybe John Meyer is in fact the earth’s first alien Avator and pretty soon we’re going to have another one sounding like Ripley from “Alien” trying to learn our ways.
In an interview with esteemed periodical “Playboy”, the centrefolds weren’t the only ones making tits of themselves. Jessica Simpson was like napalm in the bed apparanlty, he loved Jennifer Aniston but just couldn’t imagine ending up with her and in the most controversial part explained the absence of any black women in his romantic CV by explaining that John junior had a segregationist policy and was not interested in non whites. I think maybe he and Ashley Cole should both start booking their plane tickets to Port au Prince pretty darn quickly. But Ashley leave the mobile at home yeah?