Media Slag

The stench of bullshit is thick in the air as the hapless Mr Grey trots off to see the Queen and start his May Day emergency election campaign. The debates begin. Is John or Tony's hair the nicest? What underwear does Cherie wear? Is the election a copy of Clinton's presidential campaign? If so why didn't Tim Bell realise you were never meant to inhale? Who cares? The political bores may be about to have a field day but there's more important stuff in the papers.
Beer for a start. It's good for you. Official. The lovely Steve Walters, who drinks an admirable 100 pints a week, cheated death through his 56-inch beer belly last Friday. His manly blubber wedged him half way down a 40ft well keeping him safe from the 10 feet of water at the bottom until his neighbours heaved him out. "If I'd taken doctor's advice and dieted, I'd be dead," the Meatloaf fan told The Mirror, happily proving you should never listen to the advice of some pasty-faced killjoy quack.		Still he fared better than Marilyn Davis. When her husband moved to the spare room after 35 years of marriage saying he could no longer stand her snoring she saw staff at the sleep centre at North Staffordshire Infirmary. Their suggestion? Sticking tape on the nose? Ear plugs? Oh no. They taped a stonking great "Continuous Airway Pressure Machine" to her face, strapped it up to a massive lump of metal and suggested she wore a hose over her head every night. Now, "John's back in my bed," says the happy Mrs Davis. Probably there for the laugh.

Silly Cow of the Week Award goes to Sharon Johnson who complains in the News of the Screws that Vic Reeves "bit my boob". Reeves
The innocent blushing maiden, who appears wearing just a jacket and patent stilletoes to tell her tale of woe, claims to have been "really shocked" at Reeve's behaviour.
Apparently when she went into a toilet cubicle with him, saw him lock the door, let him fondle her boobs and pull up her modest lace top,"I thought he was going to kiss me".
Bit naive aren't we, love? I think most women might have sussed out Reeves was on for a bit of nookie when he first stuck his hand up her skirt and shouted "I want to screw you" in the middle of the pub.

Bad judgement is also at the heart of a tragic story which comes in from the French press. Widow Claudia Sassi collapsed and died at her husband's funeral when a voice apparently came from the coffin shouting "let me out!".
Unfortunately it wasn't a miraculous resurrection of Mr Sassi, it was his ventriloquist mate Jacques de Putron just trying to "cheer everyone up". He is now "distraught" over his tragic prank. Made me laugh.

Talking of laughable. Mr Michael Winner. The man with the most slappable face on the planet. This week, on his brief break from stuffing himself and being rude to restauranters he takes a pop at his landlords.
"I've written them EXTREMELY rude letters" he writes in his exclamation-mark peppered "column". Apparently, he's having problems with his leaking basement.
Michael darling, we don't give a toss about your leakages! We know you've met lots of famous people, have a decent bit of blonde totty on your arm and can take nice photos but do you have to wank on about your domestic problems?
"Gosh. This is fun! Tell me your landlord stories," he breathes. I know! This would be more fun! Why not ring Mr Winner direct on his private line 0171 603 7272. Tell the little tosser what you think of him!

Most likely shags this week:

Aileen Ryan. The receptionist at Lord Linely's Deal cafe in Soho. A touch on the expensive side - she charges ú150 an hour, but is heavily into "fetish and bondage" or offers: "If you want a damn good hard *** that's yours to have." Check her out with her kit off in the Sunday Mirror. If you like what you see, take her up on her offer by ringing her at Deals on 0171 287 1001.

ulrika Ulrika-ka-ka. The pouting luscious lovely with the splendid buttocks is back on the loose now and has dumped that ridiculous beefcake of a boyfriend Hunter. She has won the Rear of the Year Award and spreads it about a bit.
You can write to her c/o the BBC at Broadcasting House, Portland Place, London W1A 1AA.

Mary Riddel. Got her claws out for the tumbling Anthea Turner this week describing her skiing position as a "lavatorial squat" and her skiing slope as "flat enough to stage the national ballroom dancing championships". The old bag obviously isn't getting enough. Help her out by ringing her at The Mirror on 0171 293 3000. Anna Friel. You've seen her naked. You seen her in a lesbo snogathon in Brookside. She's handy for a bit of DIY in the back yard. And now she's about to split with Darren Day. She's tearful. She's heartbroken. She'll be gagging for it. Channel 4 will pass on letters. Write to 124 Horseferry Road, London SW1P 2TX. Mrs R. Smith. A "housewife" who is advertising "a large collection of Adult Videos" for sale in the personal columns of the tabloids. Presumably she's found something else to occupy her time. Give her a try by writing to: Mrs R. Smith PO Box 5, Featherstone, West Yorkshire, WF7 5XB.

Tracey. Boyfriend Simon has been cheating on this blonde lovely who has the most enormous tits. Help her get her own back c/o Jane's Photo File. News of the World. I Virginia Street, London, E1 9XR.

Mrs The Honourable Mrs Peter Curzon. A bit of posh. Otherwise known as Michelle Curzon, she has a part time job in an Essex, Sussex B&B .
You can see her in her smalls in the News of the World. Bit on the old side but rates are only around ú100 a night.
You can get her c/o her ancestral home: Kedleston Hall in Derbyshire

Silly Cow of the Week Award goes to Sharon Johnson who complains in the News of the Screws that Vic Reeves "bit my boob". The innocent blushing maiden, who appears wearing just a jacket and patent stilletoes to tell her tale of woe, claims to have been "really shocked" at Reeve's behaviour. Apparently when she went into a toilet cubicle with him, saw him lock the door, let him fondle her boobs and pull up her modest lace top,"I thought he was going to kiss me". Bit naive aren't we, love? I think most women might have sussed out Reeves was on for a bit of nookie when he first stuck his hand up her skirt and shouted "I want to screw you" in the middle of the pub.
Bad judgement is also at the heart of a tragic story which comes in from the French press. Widow Claudia Sassi collapsed and died at her husband's funeral when a voice apparently came from the coffin shouting "let me out!". Unfortunately it wasn't a miraculous resurrection of Mr Sassi, it was his ventriloquist mate Jacques de Putron just trying to "cheer everyone up". He is now "distraught" over his tragic prank. Made me laugh.
Talking of laughable. Mr Michael Winner. The man with the most slappable face on the planet. This week, on his brief break from stuffing himself and being rude to restauranters he takes a pop at his landlords. "I've written them EXTREMELY rude letters" he writes in his exclamation-mark peppered "column". Apparently, he's having problems with his leaking basement.		Michael darling, we don't give a toss about your leakages! We know you've met lots of famous people, have a decent bit of blonde totty on your arm and can take nice photos but do you have to wank on about your domestic problems? "Gosh. This is fun! Tell me your landlord stories," he breathes. I know! This would be more fun! Why not ring Mr Winner direct on his private line 0171 603 7272. Tell the little tosser what you think of him!

Most likely shags this week:
Aileen Ryan. The receptionist at Lord Linely's Deal cafe in Soho. A touch on the expensive side - she charges ú150 an hour, but is heavily into "fetish and bondage" or offers: "If you want a damn good hard *** that's yours to have." Check her out with her kit off in the Sunday Mirror. If you like what you see, take her up on her offer by ringing her at Deals on 0171 287 1001.
Ulrika-ka-ka. The pouting luscious lovely with the splendid buttocks is back on the loose now and has dumped that ridiculous beefcake of a boyfriend Hunter. She has won the Rear of the Year Award and spreads it about a bit. You can write to her c/o the BBC at Broadcasting House, Portland Place, London W1A 1AA.
Mary Riddel. Got her claws out for the tumbling Anthea Turner this week describing her skiing position as a "lavatorial squat" and her skiing slope as "flat enough to stage the national ballroom dancing championships". The old bag obviously isn't getting enough. Help her out by ringing her at The Mirror on 0171 293 3000.	Anna Friel. You've seen her naked. You seen her in a lesbo snogathon in Brookside. She's handy for a bit of DIY in the back yard. And now she's about to split with Darren Day. She's tearful. She's heartbroken. She'll be gagging for it. Channel 4 will pass on letters. Write to 124 Horseferry Road, London SW1P 2TX.	Mrs R. Smith. A "housewife" who is advertising "a large collection of Adult Videos" for sale in the personal columns of the tabloids. Presumably she's found something else to occupy her time. Give her a try by writing to: Mrs R. Smith PO Box 5, Featherstone, West Yorkshire, WF7 5XB.

Tracey. Boyfriend Simon has been cheating on this blonde lovely who has the most enormous tits. Help her get her own back c/o Jane's Photo File. News of the World. I Virginia Street, London, E1 9XR.
The Honourable Mrs Peter Curzon. A bit of posh. Otherwise known as Michelle Curzon, she has a part time job in an Essex, Sussex B&B . You can see her in her smalls in the News of the World. Bit on the old side but rates are only around ú100 a night. You can get her c/o her ancestral home: Kedleston Hall in Derbyshire