Thursday 11 March 2010

No, there is no mention of Mark Owen, I am still too traumatised to discuss that man.

There are some journeys in life that are just too scary to be navigated first hand; moon travel, night buses and romantic flings with Peter Andre. What Peter professional widow Andre? The man who spent the past year looking sad in photo shoots in Starbucks, ruefully wondering if he’ll ever find love again? The man who mentions his celibacy in every single interview? “What do you think of the war in Iraq Pete?” “No, nothing, not even a cuddle since Katie” Surely he doesn’t think that his core market of prepubescent girls and their HRT addled mothers would begrudge him a bit of happiness, even if it is with a blonde former glamour model? I mean with him it is all about the music.


Yet unbeknownst to everybody it transpires old King Umpa Lumpa himself has been getting some giggy all along. Lucky old Maddy Ford met the pop icon at that notorious celeb lair, a children’s birthday party. Yes we are through the looking glass people into the insania world of the mysterious man himself. Have you ever dared to wonder, what smooth line of honey he’d use to lure you into his world of v necked t shirt heaven? Wonder no more, Maddy’s taken one for the team. “He whispered into my neck “I think you are gorgeous”. Wow, who knew he had such away with words? Well anyone who’s read the lyrics on his CD sleeve notes you could justifiably reply.

Despite enjoying the benefits of being in a relationship with Maddy for over six months, he repeatedly questioned whether he was “ready” for one. That old chestnut, haven’t Hallmark noticed a gap in the market with that one? They could stock them in card shops beside “Happy Birthday- I love you but I’m not in love with you! Enjoy your special day!”She also recalls how a week after telling Peter about her mother’s traumatic early death, he invited her to an event and suggested she bring her Mum along. When he did finally dump her, scared that it was about to become public, he released a press statement lamenting his terrible taste in women, saying “I sure know how to pick them”. Oh Maddy, you’re better off without him- isn’t Dane Bowers single?

What she needs is a real man. Step forward Colin Farrell, a presenter at last week’s Oscars. Colin found fame in Hollywood as a gifted actor, charismatic party boy and doe eyed pin up, but mainly for knocking boots with Britney Spears. His bad boy reputation is interesting considering he went to private school, auditioned for Boyzone and is from Stillorgan, a middle class suburb of South Dublin famed for having a lovely shopping centre and a large bowling alley. For Irish people any area they associate with trips for the first communion is hardly The Projects. In the UK, bowling alleys equal Kerry Katona country, in Ireland they can actually add to your property value.

Despite this slightly odd pose, like most Irish people, I have a soft spot for the man. Mainly because for the next twenty years , no matter what giddy heights of celebrity he climbs, whether he’s kissing Angelina Jolie or riffing with Will Smith, some Irish person will nudge the person beside them and sneer “sure he was in Ballykissangel!” thus puncturing the scene of any glamour or fantasy.. Irish actresses have never fared as well in the city of dreams, mainly because as a race, we’re best known for our personalities. The nearest we had to International glamour was Andrea Corr but in her twenties her Dundalk accent was so strong it sounded like a donkey being violently drowned. Ireland likes to get excited about the slightest claim to Hollywood that it can.RTE is the only news channel that will report an Irish sweep at the awards because Johnny from DIT had a week’s work experience on “The Hurt Locker” .They’ll then go live to Johnny’s mother’s kitchen where she’ll tell Joe Duffy how happy but completely unsurprised she is because he was always very artistic.

The Oscar’s lived up the glamour of the occasion. Then the very next day, former Hollywood golden boy Corey Haim, went to bed with the symptoms of a bad flu, his Mum called the ambulance and by the time he brought him to the hospital the thirty eight year old Lost Boy star was dead from an assumed accidental drug overdose. I don’t know what it would be like to be famous as a child, to be offered drugs as a teenager every time I felt insecure, depressed or rubbish. I don’t know what effect being “friends” with Michael Jackson as a fifteen year ole would have on me or how I’d deal with being washed at by my mid twenties. Luckily I didn’t have to. Now we only have one Corey left. Hollywood is horrible.

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