Red carpet queens, Tarantino, and Tony’s plot to become pope.
Last Tuesday I went to the première of Shilpa Shetty’s new film. So I’m wandering down the red carpet – and let me tell you, if you like false breasts that look like pith helmets, the red carpet is the place to be. If a bomb had gone off inside the cinema, the only way these women could have been identified was by the serial numbers on their implants.
Thankfully the only bomb that went off inside was the film. It’s called Life in a . . . Metro. Which is ironic, as the only way they’ll be able to get people to see it is if they give it away for free in those blue bins you see on station platforms. Even then, I’m pretty sure people are still going to feel ripped off.
Now I’m not intimidated by the red carpet, because when I was growing up in Birmingham our whole house was covered in red carpet. It wasn’t because my parents wanted it to look glamorous. It’s because it was 99p a square metre from Carpet World.
They had the living room, the bedrooms, even the shed fitted with red carpet. This is not a joke. Once my dad thought it would be a good idea to cut up the leftover pieces and arrange them on the wall in squares, modern-art style. It was like living in a recording studio. Little-known fact: UB40 recorded their Labour of Love LP in our living room.
At the première, I was a tad surprised to see Danielle Lloyd. Danielle’s been going out of her way to prove she’s not racist, but dating a couple of black guys and having a few curries for the photographers doesn’t exempt you from the charge, in my book.
The crowd was full of Shilpa fans and mostly Asian. To my horror, Danielle was signing autographs. I don’t know who was worse: her for signing them, or the Asians for wanting them. I actually heard one Asian man shout, “I don’t care what she’s done. She’s famous. Sign my sock!”
What is going on? Have people forgotten what she said on that reality show? It was only four months ago. Who are Asians going to swarm over next? Nick Griffin? Stick him on a red carpet and let’s find out. Do you think if Hitler had lived after the war they’d eventually have let him do a goodwill tour of Jerusalem? And how about having Peter Sutcliffe as a guest on Woman’s Hour?
A friend of mine came over from LA this week and couldn’t contain his excitement at the Queen visiting the United States. Everyone saw the pictures of her at the White House, but we all know that’s not the real reason she went. Ever since she won that Oscar, the Yanks can’t get enough of her and it’s gone to her head. In between meeting dignitaries, the film-star monarch found time to lunch with Harvey Weinstein and is said to be considering a number of projects, among them a martial-arts extravaganza with her favourite director, Quentin Tarantino (working title: Kill Phil). There’s also talk of a time-travel comedy with Adam Sandler. However, most expect Her Majesty to plump for a sequel to her Oscar-winning smash – The Queen 2: full throttle.
In a continuation of his holy war against Islam, Tony Blair has now announced that he’s converting to Catholicism. Ever the shrewd operator, Blair apparently held a secret meeting with the Archbishop of Westminster over a candlelit dinner at Granita at which the archbishop agreed to support Blair on his ruthless, inevitable climb to popedom.
Blair is said to want to modernise the Catholic Church, planning to pull it out of its dark, unelectable days and drag it kicking and screaming into the 16th century.
I’m looking forward to when he quits midway through a third gruelling term as pope and announces, on his deathbed, his conversion to Islam, after which a very grateful Allah will reward him in heaven with the eternal affections of 72 Blair Babes.
I bet he can’t wait.