Ah yes, Ringo was the normal one!

From the tiny, tinpot terror of North Korea to more mundane items... well, somewhat more mundane. The marriage of Paul McCartney and Heather Mills continues to unravel faster than knit Speedos on the late Marlon Brando, and just as unpleasantly. Their two year old child seems to be the only beneficiarly of this mess, having just signed a lucrative book deal with Bloomsbury for a tell all entitled "Mommy Was a Model, Daddy was a Beatle, and I'm Going to Be Filthy Rich After This Book." The book will be ghost written by Chris Kreski.

Anyway, regarding the messy proceedings, among other things, Mills alleges that McCartney:

• Shoved Mills over a coffee table.
• Stabbed Mills with a broken wine glass stem.
• Verbally humiliated Mills in front of several people.
• Used illegal drugs
• "Consumed alcohol to excess"

Now, I don't want to give the impression that any of these charges aren't serious, but I suspect the McCartney defence team will be releasing a statement any day now that will read something like this:

Mr. McCartney, or as we all like to call him, Sir Paul, is innocent of each of these charges. We would like to address the charges individually, just to make sure Sir Paul's story gets out. Fleet Street and the rest of the world media are so often unfair to wealthy, talented ex-Beatles these days.

• Mr. McCartney did push Ms. Mills over a coffee table, but it was only to save her life from the poisoned dart that Mr. McCartney's pygmy manservant Andy Richter had fired at Mills. Andy explained later by saying, "I hate that conniving, greedy, money-grubbing, *****!" Mr. McCartney refuses to endorse Andy's statement, no matter how factually true it might be.
• Mr. McCartney could not have stabbed Ms. Mills with a broken wine glass stem, as whenever Mr. McCartney stabs someone, he uses his personally-monogrammed, solid gold shiv. As Mr. Ringo Starr will attest, he was the last person Mr. McCartney stabbed with this particular shiv, in the summer of 2004 after a particularly contentious game of snooker.
• Mr. McCartney never verbally humiliated Ms. Mills in front of anyone. All Mr. McCartney ever said regarding Ms. Mills was, "I'm a Beatle and you're just another worm," which is a factually true statement, and far gentler than what John Lennon used to say, which involved insects, a wood chipper, and a reference to Sir Paul's mother.
• Mr. McCartney has never used any illegal drugs that are personally aware of, and even if he did, he is a rock star, so what in blazes do you expect?
• Regarding Mr. McCartney's alleged alcohol abuse, this is simply laughable to anyone who knows that Mr. McCartney was regularly drunk under the table by such teetotalers as Keith Moon and Paul Gascoigne. Like any good Scouser, he has the usual 12 pints of bitter each evening. Ms. Mills' charges are laughable. Ha. Ha. Ha.

A compelling defence, don't you think?

Happy Birthday Life!!!!!!!

No, that is not some metaphorical exclamation meant to remind those who didn't send me a birthday card (Zimpter, you know who I'm talking about) to do so. I am in fact talking about Life Magazine and their 70th birthday celebration that is taking place this month. Life has had a huge impact over the years on many of the fibrous, hearty flannel wearing citizenry of our fine country. I'm sure many a time its absorbent and rugged pages have been used in the out-houses and lavatories of this rugged stock, when the toilet roll ran low. But it is more for its cover photography, and to a lesser extent its sh!thouse properties, for which it is known.

Take a walk with me down memory lane, won't you?



Here we have a soldier from an unnamed country standing proudly with his rifle. One might wonder if this is the inestimable Sergeant York or some hero of ages past. Sadly, we have learned that it is in fact Lieutenant Henri Pascal who was trampled to death by his own men when they learned that their ration of frommage had been halved.



From the "Golden Age of Hedonism" comes this 1957 edition devoted to the voyeurism of Bert Lahr and the psychedelic effects of mushrooms. I'm sure they must have been proud.



Who can forget the sixties, a time of peace, love, and despots. It was also a time when your dictators wore more army fatigues and less Adidas jumpsuits. Ah, those were the salad days of totalitarian butchers... of course I mean benevolent totalitarian butchers.



With similar fond remembrance we hark back to the time when the apes took over the planet. Damn dirty apes! It was a mad house, a mad house... but the female fashions weren't actually that bad, I do have to admit.

Then came a time when the magazine crossed the line between relevance and irrelevance. A point where no magazine should go and one from which it would never recover.



Life would never be the same. We really mean that.

This abomination led down the road to a hellish slump that brought cover after cover of shame.







So, happy birthday Life! Now go back down into your filthy hole.

The Fresh Face at the UN

No, I'm not talking about U.S. Ambassador John Bolton, whom U.S. Senator Joe Biden privately refers to as "Jules" and to whom Vice President Dick Cheney refers to as "Dread One."

No, I'm referring to the brand new General Secretary-elect of the United Nations, one Mr. Ban Ki-moon. Ban will assume the office on January 1, 2007, right after current Secretary General Kofi Annan is dragged kicking and screaming from his palatial Manhattan offices.

Many observers, and not a few crackpots, expect Ban's tenure to be vastly different from Annan's. Some predictive examples:

Annan: Spent vast majority of time complaining about Israel, President Bush, and Ghanian car import duties.
Ban: Will spend most of his time complaining about Israel, President Bush, and why Hyundai can't get a really good foothold in the American car market.

Annan: Has been criticized for overly passive responses regarding genocides in Rwanda and Sudan.
Ban: Will be criticized for overly passive responses to Kim Jong-Il going batty with nukes up and down East Asia. Decision to send Kim a case of Milky Way candy bars and a year's subscription to Hustler (no, there's no bloody link, you pervs) will be seen as soft.

Annan: Had family member implicated in Oil for Food corruption scandal.
Ban: Will be suspected of stealing towels from the UN Secretary General suite, by eventual successor Antonio Banderas in 2012.

Annan: Attempted to reform the UN by expanding the Security Council.
Ban: Will attempt to expand the Security Council by adding South Korea and three nations to be named at a later date: Freedonia, Sylvania, and Walla Walla, Washington.

Annan: Criticized for mishandling of sexual abuse scandal involving UN peacekeeping troops in Africa.
Ban: Will be criticized for policy of sending UN peacekeeping troops to Las Vegas to "sow wild oats," because "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

Annan: Has a respectful but adversarial relationship with U.S. Ambassador John Bolton.
Ban: Will be beaten like a floor mat by Bolton on at least 12 different occasions.

Annan: Declared U.S. and British invasion of Iraq illegal.
Ban: Will declare eventual cancellation of the programme Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip illegal, despite abysmal ratings, because "That Matthew Perry is a hoot!"

Real Men? Flip-Flops? Who Gives a Flip?

Michael Y. Park of Fox News asks the question, "Do Real Men Wear Flip Flops?"

The answer is "Yes, you blithering ninny. Get a bleeding life and stop trying to impress us with those Chuck Taylor-redux-canvas-basketball trainers."

To be fair to Mr. Park, the original disparaging comments about flip-flops came from rapper and noted Mr. Blackwell confidant DMX, who complained about fellow rapper Jay-Z's choice of the airy, open-toed, highly-chafing footwear. According to the Fox article DMX claimed that, "Thugs don't do flip-flops."

Apart from the dubious rationality of taking fashion advice from someone whose nom-de-plume sounds like a bicycle, what on earth makes Park think that the average, red-blooded male is going to give a haggis worrying about what the well-dressed "thug" is wearing? Not to burst DMX's very slender bubble, but most of us dress to impress women (my wife in my case), for a touch of class (actors and Arsene Wenger), or to be comfortable (Your average rock star and/or Ray Romano). Few of us who haven't done jail time dress to impress the blokes who spend most of their time in alleys with blackjacks and switchblades, waiting to count the money they find in other people's wallets, if they can count at all.

Just to make the point perfectly clear, here are some examples of DMX's sartorial splendour with some appropriate critiquing included:

• Dear sir, if you must wear camoflauge, at least blend into something.
• The tank top is so eighties, mate. Didn't one of the Village People wear one?
• Tone Loc called, lad. He wants his look back.
• Hefty bag trousers? ...And put a bloody shirt on!
• Apparently, the Unibomber look is back in. This must be what they mean when they say DMX is "the bomb."

So, as you can see, the estimable John Amos' wardrobe from Good Times was more impressive than that of Mr. X-Games bicycle.

I really don't mean to pick on DMX though. Rappers have enough problems, what with being melodically challenged, unable to play actual instruments, and dodging gunfire constantly. It really must be a difficult, monotone, firecracker life.

No, my real criticism is for the gits who go around loudly declaring that "real men do this" and "real men don't do that." These dim prats seem convinced that they can inflate their own sagging manhood by casting others into disrepute simply because they happen to enjoy a French savoury pastry made with eggs and creme. Have you ever had Quiche Lorraine, mate? It's loaded with rashers upon rashers of bacon. Bacon, you dullards!!!

Only a lobotomy patient would suggest that real men don't enjoy a large bacon-filled egg tart. Even people from cultures where pork is forbidden would fill the thing up with Sizzlean and have at it.

No, the one thing I'm certain real men don't do is run around writing hysterical books and articles about what real men do and don't do. Those blokes are the ones who get beaten up by real men in pubs for being so ruddy annoying all the time. Those are the ones who write Cialis adverts. Pathetic.