There’s a feeling of trepidation every Time I click on the Daily Mail, not because I fear the truth, oh no, it’s because I fear the untruth. The made up stories around the photos - they got the photos in from the paps but no copy, no worries, what do you think Kate Moss is feeling now as she once again ‘stumbles from a nightclub'? She may have stumbled, it might have been after some over-enthusiastic pap has shoved his camera in her face and blinded her. No matter, we have the photo, so the copy should easy - describe the clothes she’s wearing, comment on the cigarette hanging out of her mouth, the man she’s with (then a rundown on every man she’s ever been with) the nightclub and why she might have been there and who else she was with.

We have our story!

I can’t help my cynicism

It’s not that I don’t mind the Mail, in fact, I’m not too sure what my life would be without it, I just can’t help my cynicism. I’m not meaning at all to denigrate the news side as there are some very good journalists reporting for them. No, I’m talking about the celeb news, and this week it has been quite good. I didn’t bother too much about the Emmy stories, I looked at the photos and read enough of the copy to know the poor leftwing luvvies once again bleated about Trump - seriously, you work in a profitable industry that pays you to be propped up by good directors producers, cinematographers and writers and still you don’t understand basic capitalism!


Talking about bozos

Then there were the stories about Katie Price outing her husband for cheating, I’m beginning to wonder whether she has in her prenup an agreement for every new husband to eff-off within three years of marriage so she can continue her career in plastic surgery and TV chatting and look for the next poor bozo.

Talking about bozos, the story about the human Ken Doll fascinates me. Have you noticed his face is too big for his body? The thing is if you’re going to make yourself into a Ken doll you need to be tall. I’ll tweet him and let him know.

And then there’s Danniella Westbrook, well what can you say, she was hoping to get back on the telly, but nobody wanted her so she took off for Spain had surgery along the way and met a young guy all the while keeping the Mail informed of her whereabouts so she can be photographed on the beach and running into the surf; “Just once more Danny baby, I missed the shot because you splashed me”.

Now she’s pregnant, no wait, she’s had a miscarriage, now she might split from her man, no wait…… Yawn.

This poor sod

But the best story of all this week wasn’t the celebs it was the poor sod who discovered the soles of his new shoes had swastikas imprinted on them. It’s actually a honeycomb pattern, but if you isolated the pattern you could believe they were the offending logo. The best part of this story (as often is in the Mail) is the comments; ‘My cooked spaghetti resembled Pol Pot the other day, I know how he feels’ and ‘For the love of God.... Stupidity personified.’ The best being: ‘How much did you pay him for this tripe story?’ Yeah, I often ask that same thing.