THIS is a very exciting time for myself and Peter. He's writing his life story, which his agent told me is going to be 'An Autobiography'. I don't know about you, but I thought that was a well weird name for a book – I mean what has that got to do with my Pete's life story, hey? Why don’t they call it What I've Done So Far In My Life So Far By Peter Andre, Husband Of Katie Price?
By Karen Fenessey
IT’S a sad day that sees artists with real integrity beaten down by loud-mouth sensationalists. This week, I have found myself in the same boat as the prominent female art lover, Tracey Emin, who has always struggled against the thousands of Philippines who want her silenced. And I have been seriously reconsidering whether I want to keep working at my school, if it means having to tolerate these imbeciles.
By Azam Al-Maktar, shopkeeper, Basra
MY dear British friends, why you leave?
By Karen Fenessey
Having seen the film ‘Se7en’ (or you might recognise it as ‘Seven’) featuring Brad Pitt and the hauntingly talented Morgan Freeman at least ten times, I think it’s safe to say I know more than the average person about the skills needed to be a good sleuth.
On my multi award-nominated Channel 4 show, You Are What You Eat, I might appear to some as an unqualified, cold-hearted old busy-body. But answer me one question: why would someone as popular, educated and talented as myself go to such extreme lengths when it comes to treating my patients?
Stop right there. I don’t want to hear any more of this claptrap that a movie is a film – a film is the correct term for a feature. Film is British, it’s Norman Wisdom being dragged across a garden by a dirty-great lawn mower, Christopher Lee dressed like a big Jessie in The Wicker Man and perhaps most memorably, British film is summed up best by Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson chomping on crumpets in a station buffet, resisting an almost uncontrollable urge to make the beast with two backs.
By Karen Fenessey
I don’t know if it’s like this all over the country, but summer seems to be a total disappointment this year. I, for one, believe that this is all down to emissions from greenhouse gases and I make a point of ramming this home to my class of planet-killing P2s, who spend more time leaking out radioactive rays on their silly X-boxes than lowering the damage left all over the world by their grubby carbon fingerprints.
By George Monbiot THEIR screaming sirens, their back-to-front writing and their dirty deisel engines have become a fixture in our modern lives, but does anyone ever stop to think if we actually need them?
Fuck that for a game of soldiers, was what I initially said when first asked to write a 'Guest Blog'. These things are for speccy twats who spend too much time with their hands wrapped around their tiny cocks as they gaze at internet porn. And then I was told that there'd be a decent-size fee and a chance to talk about some of my exciting new projects, so here you fucking well go.
WHEN I give interviews these days, the first question I’m asked is: Are you and Noel on speaking terms? This is one of the reasons I don’t do interviews - I’m totally sick of questions about the whole 'Blur v Oasis' thing. We've all moved on. I have. But that arrogant, swaggering, sneering Northern shit clearly hasn't - as I saw for myself on a recent BBC music documentary.
FEBRUARY 3, 2001: Election strategy meeting at Millbank with Gordon.
He's such a fucking nutter He has some great ideas. Best of luck to him.
MAY 4, 1997: Moved into my Number 10 office today. Needs some decor. Will bring portrtait of Bob Maxwell from home. TB wants to 'hit the ground running'. Told him to shut the fuck up and do as he's told. Peter Mandelson has ordered a pommel horse for his office. God only knows.