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Remember the Village People before they became your nana’s favourite group?

Bobbing for boyfriends down at the YMCA

Village People – or VP as we like to call them, mainly because it makes us think of VPL, Visible Penis Line, our new favourite website – were once credible. Well, as credible as a bunch of wannabe gays with feathers in their hair can ever be.

They was like, history, and everything portraying all the different types on the gay scene (my, how things have quietened down!).

And now very cool magazine Spin has decided to concentrate on the truly subversive side of the boys: your Auntie Jean singing about the venue where you could go and get group banged by strangers, the navy almost being suckered into using the VP’s song about getting cock in the navy (song: ‘In the Navy’) in their recruitment drive… Oh, fun days.

Read an ‘oral history’ – tee hee – here.

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‘Heavens to Betsy, is it nearly home-time and we’ve still not had a wretched sing-song?’

Vertical smile, fnar

In honour of our chat with Sharleen Spiteri over cheap pasta round Oxford Circus way, and in anticipation of her new video directed by… Oh, we can’t tell you… here is a Texas classic, ‘Inner Smile’. And yes she is freakishly good as Elv the Pelv. Oh, and yes, we put your questions to her…  (more…)

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Look at the iddle puddy! Oh.

I'll have eleven, please.

We’re particularly enjoying the pink belly. And the big eyes. And the ickle paws. And the fluffy tail. And its button nose.

In conclusion, we like the kitty.

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Tranny Banks-ness #3956103246

Where'd the colour go?

Look at Tranny Banks off-of mad as a box of hair, on the cover of New York Times Magazine! With child-bearing hips. And child-bearing hair.

If you study said cover of Tranny Banks without much care or attention, you’ll be able to see that the NY Times Magazine is trying to suggest that Tranny Banks is the next big female human brand thing – you know, like Oprah and Martha. But not Arthur. This is what is known in the business as music to Tranny’s ears.

We also imagine if she wasn’t given this exact cover with the exact non-subliminal message as outlined above, she would have reacted thus… (more…)

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Ooh, look momma, shiny new trainies…

Something shiny this way comes

There’s nothing says summer quite so much as a formidable new bit of footwear. And these babies, in all their Quality Street wrapper glory, say summer that bit louder than any other footwear we can think of off the top of our heads. And how great would they look with a slim-fit skinny-style jeanery? Hmmm?

They are special edition (honey, we wouldn’t want them if they weren’t!), they are by one Pierre Hardy, they have a name (Cruzeiro – which we think is Brazilian for something) and they are available exclusively at Dover Street Market. In Dover Street. London, not Dover. Near Bond Street. Green Park Tube. Oh, Streetmap it.

They also have these lovely other ones (after the jump so you have to invest that extra click, which bumps our numbers right up…) (more…)

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Pop a question inside a famous. This time, Sharleen Spiteri.

She has a halo. At home, in a cupboard.

She’s one of the UK’s premiere female singers, she has a fee-arse new record on its way (her first solo!), she’s mates with Madonna, Tom Ford and Thierry Henri and she is laying herself wide open to your probings. Get stuck in with them questions after the jump… (more…)

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Fag Hag Diary

Miss Dean.

The Fag Hag has been suffering from wedding list stress. I’ve left it until last orders to make my choice, and like a footballer in Chinawhites at closing time, I’m faced with two choices – the skanky old dregs or something I’ll have to pay through the nose for.

I realised with horror it all came down to a nylon mattress protector, two napkin rings, or an HD telly for £600. So I did what any sane person does in this situation and got straight on the phone to Tiffany’s. (more…)

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‘Tis around the hour of 4pm and we still haven’t had a sing song yet – is that correct?’

Honey, put a comb through your hair. Honestly, what is this? 

Yes. And today, seeing as it’s Kylie off-of Kylie’s 40th birthday (and we’re not being churlish as we mentioned, as that would be churlish), we’ll mostly be sing-songing along to a song by Madonna Kylie. ‘Confide in Me’. Which we *ssssh* actually quite like. Ish. A little. Sort of. (more…)

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