If there's one story that's made me laugh this week its Paris Hilton's dramatic intervention into the US presidential race. "I want America to know that I'm, like, totally ready to lead", she suggests.
Until now, there have been few if any people that have had less of an impact on my life than Hilton, but having researched her policies – which include repainting the White House pink – I've developed a healthy respect for the woman.
Hilton is, of course, famous for her innovative approach to bedroom cinematography, but she's clearly not the utter airhead she'd have us believe. For a start she's loaded, and secondly she's managed to hole the hapless and truly ancient John McCain well below the waterline with some telling jibes. McCain – who roused Hilton's ire by comparing presidential rival Barack Obama to 'lightweight celebrities' like her and Britney Spears - was dismissed as "that wrinkly, white-haired guy". Hilton then delivered her coup de grâce, calling McCain "the oldest celebrity in the world, like super-old; old enough to remember when dancing was a sin and beer was served in a bucket". Ouch.
Hilton and McCain: at loggerheads
These cutting remarks mark Paris Hilton out as a true master of the political insult. She's in distinguished company. Top of the list, of course, is Sir Winston Churchill; there's as many stories of Churchillian rudeness as the great man had cigars, but my favourite is this attack on Clement Atlee, who he described as "a sheep in sheep's clothing". Churchill also said that Charles de Gaulle looked "like a female llama who has been surprised in the bath". What a guy.
Lesser politicians have also enjoyed sticking the boot in over the ages. Continuing Churchill's ungulate-based theme, being attacked by Geoffrey Howe was, according to Denis Healey, like "being savaged by a dead sheep". Former Russian ambassador Sir Rodric Braithwaite recently described Tony Blair as a "frayed and waxy zombie straight from Madame Tussauds", while Liberal Democrat Vince Cable famously mocked Gordon Brown's apparent transformation "from Stalin to Mr Bean", which turned out to be a surprisingly devastating critique of Brown's premiership. A similar slow-burner came from Alan Clarke, who referred to Nigel Lawson as a 'fat bounder'; having been scolded by the Speaker for crossing the line of acceptable wordplay in the House he retracted his comments, only to refer to Lawson subsequently as a 'corpulent cad'. Heh.
Its not just politicians that command such verbal weaponry. Perhaps the finest jibe that's been spun in my direction came about a year ago, courtesy of my friend Amy from Foreign Rights. I was having one of my regular work-related flaps, and was threatening to leave the cruel world of natural history publishing to take up a vacancy at Wisden. A deadpan Amy skillfully floored me with this classic:
"You can't go and work on cricket books, Spim. You'd be even more boring than you already are".
Despite having had more than a year to think about it, I'm still unable to summon an adequate response.
Until now, there have been few if any people that have had less of an impact on my life than Hilton, but having researched her policies – which include repainting the White House pink – I've developed a healthy respect for the woman.
Hilton is, of course, famous for her innovative approach to bedroom cinematography, but she's clearly not the utter airhead she'd have us believe. For a start she's loaded, and secondly she's managed to hole the hapless and truly ancient John McCain well below the waterline with some telling jibes. McCain – who roused Hilton's ire by comparing presidential rival Barack Obama to 'lightweight celebrities' like her and Britney Spears - was dismissed as "that wrinkly, white-haired guy". Hilton then delivered her coup de grâce, calling McCain "the oldest celebrity in the world, like super-old; old enough to remember when dancing was a sin and beer was served in a bucket". Ouch.
Hilton and McCain: at loggerheads
These cutting remarks mark Paris Hilton out as a true master of the political insult. She's in distinguished company. Top of the list, of course, is Sir Winston Churchill; there's as many stories of Churchillian rudeness as the great man had cigars, but my favourite is this attack on Clement Atlee, who he described as "a sheep in sheep's clothing". Churchill also said that Charles de Gaulle looked "like a female llama who has been surprised in the bath". What a guy.
Lesser politicians have also enjoyed sticking the boot in over the ages. Continuing Churchill's ungulate-based theme, being attacked by Geoffrey Howe was, according to Denis Healey, like "being savaged by a dead sheep". Former Russian ambassador Sir Rodric Braithwaite recently described Tony Blair as a "frayed and waxy zombie straight from Madame Tussauds", while Liberal Democrat Vince Cable famously mocked Gordon Brown's apparent transformation "from Stalin to Mr Bean", which turned out to be a surprisingly devastating critique of Brown's premiership. A similar slow-burner came from Alan Clarke, who referred to Nigel Lawson as a 'fat bounder'; having been scolded by the Speaker for crossing the line of acceptable wordplay in the House he retracted his comments, only to refer to Lawson subsequently as a 'corpulent cad'. Heh.
Its not just politicians that command such verbal weaponry. Perhaps the finest jibe that's been spun in my direction came about a year ago, courtesy of my friend Amy from Foreign Rights. I was having one of my regular work-related flaps, and was threatening to leave the cruel world of natural history publishing to take up a vacancy at Wisden. A deadpan Amy skillfully floored me with this classic:
"You can't go and work on cricket books, Spim. You'd be even more boring than you already are".
Despite having had more than a year to think about it, I'm still unable to summon an adequate response.
This week's celebrity spots
With six months-worth of sightings to unload it would require a significant misfire for me to fail to hit the celebrity bullseye, and frankly I'm not about to disappoint. July alone yielded Brian Blessed carrying his shopping down D'Arblay Street, Fabio Capello outside the FA carrying a sandwich back to eat at his desk (he said hello when challenged) and Gok Wan outside my office, sporting a jaunty 'shark's tooth' earring; Wan gave me a thumb's up and a broad smile. Summer might be proving to be yet another rain-blighted damp squib, but the stars are still out in force; on Monday I was privileged to pass two genuine comedy icons as I shambled into work at a quarter to ten, loitering outside different (and presumably rival) Soho production companies; first a beaming Paul Merton, and moments later Kathy Burke, complete with obligatory fag.
Blessed en route to the shops
There's also some spectacular reader's sightings to report. Regular correspondents Yakbone and Julie from Leighton Buzzard BOTH report observations of former Madness frontman Suggs in Soho - on one occasion smoking outside The Toucan, while Nick from Soho reports Simon Callow bustling in self-important fashion along Greek Street. But the plaudits this week have to go to Rob from East Finchley, who reports three stellar spots, all stemming from a weekend trip to the north. First, Badly Drawn Boy in a Chinese restaurant in Knutsford. Apparently he was wearing his stupid fucking hat indoors so people would recognise him, the twat. This was soon followed by Paul Young at Corley Services, and finally by my personal favourite – Paul Ince in Chester Travelodge, presumably on his way north to accept the Blackburn job. Ince. Still despised at West Ham, of course, where his very name has become the currency of unpopularity and disloyalty. For instance, Frank Lampard is regularly greeted at Upton Park with a chant of 'You're just a Fat Paul Ince', while Jermain Defoe receives 'You're just a Short Paul Ince'. In 1989, Ince posed in a Man United shirt while still technically a West Ham player. A bit naughty, but compared to the shenanigans that cocks like Ronaldo get up to these days it was small beer. A more innocent age I guess - its time to forgive and forget.
Recommendations
I can't remember ever being so depressed at the start of a season before. We all know who the top four will be. West Ham will win fuck all and finish tenth, and the odds are good that the bottom three will be this year's promoted clubs - the bookies go as short as 5/1 for Hull, Stoke and West Brom to be spinnng back to oblivion come next May. So instead its to speciality bets that we must turn for Premiership interest - starting with the managerial sack race. I'm amazed Curbishley is favourite (5/1, Bet365). Mark my words, this represents nothing more than wishful thinking from a handful of one-eyed cockneys. He ain't going nowhere. Far more appealing is the eternally under-pressure Gary Megson (6/1, various) while spoon-faced Steve Bruce is not the outsider that 25/1 (Paddy Power) suggests.
With six months-worth of sightings to unload it would require a significant misfire for me to fail to hit the celebrity bullseye, and frankly I'm not about to disappoint. July alone yielded Brian Blessed carrying his shopping down D'Arblay Street, Fabio Capello outside the FA carrying a sandwich back to eat at his desk (he said hello when challenged) and Gok Wan outside my office, sporting a jaunty 'shark's tooth' earring; Wan gave me a thumb's up and a broad smile. Summer might be proving to be yet another rain-blighted damp squib, but the stars are still out in force; on Monday I was privileged to pass two genuine comedy icons as I shambled into work at a quarter to ten, loitering outside different (and presumably rival) Soho production companies; first a beaming Paul Merton, and moments later Kathy Burke, complete with obligatory fag.
Blessed en route to the shops
There's also some spectacular reader's sightings to report. Regular correspondents Yakbone and Julie from Leighton Buzzard BOTH report observations of former Madness frontman Suggs in Soho - on one occasion smoking outside The Toucan, while Nick from Soho reports Simon Callow bustling in self-important fashion along Greek Street. But the plaudits this week have to go to Rob from East Finchley, who reports three stellar spots, all stemming from a weekend trip to the north. First, Badly Drawn Boy in a Chinese restaurant in Knutsford. Apparently he was wearing his stupid fucking hat indoors so people would recognise him, the twat. This was soon followed by Paul Young at Corley Services, and finally by my personal favourite – Paul Ince in Chester Travelodge, presumably on his way north to accept the Blackburn job. Ince. Still despised at West Ham, of course, where his very name has become the currency of unpopularity and disloyalty. For instance, Frank Lampard is regularly greeted at Upton Park with a chant of 'You're just a Fat Paul Ince', while Jermain Defoe receives 'You're just a Short Paul Ince'. In 1989, Ince posed in a Man United shirt while still technically a West Ham player. A bit naughty, but compared to the shenanigans that cocks like Ronaldo get up to these days it was small beer. A more innocent age I guess - its time to forgive and forget.
Recommendations
I can't remember ever being so depressed at the start of a season before. We all know who the top four will be. West Ham will win fuck all and finish tenth, and the odds are good that the bottom three will be this year's promoted clubs - the bookies go as short as 5/1 for Hull, Stoke and West Brom to be spinnng back to oblivion come next May. So instead its to speciality bets that we must turn for Premiership interest - starting with the managerial sack race. I'm amazed Curbishley is favourite (5/1, Bet365). Mark my words, this represents nothing more than wishful thinking from a handful of one-eyed cockneys. He ain't going nowhere. Far more appealing is the eternally under-pressure Gary Megson (6/1, various) while spoon-faced Steve Bruce is not the outsider that 25/1 (Paddy Power) suggests.
Judas Ince; will be out of the Blackburn hotseat by Christmas
You might have noticed that the Olympics are on. My views on this are well-known and have already been widely broadcast, but I couldn't help watching the women's 48kg snatch on sunday, and not just for the gag; these tiny women lifted some truly epic weights. However, you have to question the cards life has dealt you when you find yourself watching women's weightlifting at one in the morning. Nonetheless, I am recommending Lin Ma in the Men's Table Tennis (9/4, Skybet), the unbeatable Javier Gomez in the Triathlon (7/4, Skybet) and Tyson Gay at 5/2 (Ladbrokes) in the 100 metres, though you must appreciate that this is based mainly on the fact that I like his name, rather than any sage insider knowledge.
Casiotone for the Painfully Alone – stupid name, great songs.
Casiotone for the Painfully Alone – stupid name, great songs.
