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Ooh and ooh! New York gets its very own TopShop! *claps like a seal (beast, not man, you understand)*

TopShop; not afraid of colour

Personally, we can barely go into TopShop on Oxford Street without having to internally chant ‘breathe in peace, breathe out peace’ while manically caressing our worry beads to sparking point. Tis a very big you see and panic attacks are so 2009 – what with the Credit Crunchie and all that excess stress – so we have what is known as issues. But forget all that because today’s most excitingly unexciting news is that TopShop launches Stateside on Thursday. Hooray!

Now you too can look like a carbon copy of the next girl slash boy slash in-betweener in your skinnier than skinny skinnies, pre-dirtied white plimsolls and ‘ironic’ t-shirts. But who are we kidding? Popping into TopShop/Man/Both of a lunch break is something of a national pastime over here, so we hope all the beautiful Noo Yoikers and their munty friends (always good for bag holding, queue defending and agreeing with your every purchase) turn up in their squillions.

*spins around on chair wearing nought but an ironic t-shirt and a faux-dirty plimsoll. Skinnies are in the wash*

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Fag Hag Diary

Health, health, health... 


The Fag Hag met up with her pal Amanda for lunch yesterday. Amanda is a wonderful creation – waist length killer blonde hair, fashion forward as hell, wisdom of ancient Indian guru – and she treats her body as a sanctified temple, just as the Fag Hag treats her as a litter strewn amusement park. (more…)

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We likes a man in a kilt, but even we have our standards…

Leon Jackson - no relation to Michael... or Bianca for that matterWhen not being dropped on his head by his mother or on his arse by his record label, Leon Jackson off-of professional Scottish so-called models at New York’s Dressed To Kilt show. Yet another job he got for hatching north of the border.

Also at last night’s show, which was hosted by Sean ‘quiche’ Connery (we say ‘quiche’ because he says everything like the word ‘quiche’, ok?) and his must-have-the-patience-of-a-Saint wife Micheline. Not of the tyre variety… although one might be fooled by a cruel light and unforgiving shadow – was Mike ‘officially lost his mojo’ Myers, Andie MacDowell and daughters and NASCAR driving person Dario Franchitti, Gossip Girl’s Ed Westwick and the Marcus Schenkenberg who we can’t find a picture of for love nor money nor sexual favours.

But we did find pictures of some nice mens at least, so enjoy… (more…)

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Ooh-ooh-ooh, yeah.

No but really, why do they insist on wearing shorts? And not even shorty-shorts? And not even white/silver/off-yellow shorts? And not even shorts that would slip off at the merest whiff of a wave? And not even in lycra?



Oh, and talking of Jason Statham in his non-Speedos on Malibu Beach…… No, that’s it. Just talkin’.

More, here. Obbtw (‘oh but by the way’. So much better than the hackneyed ‘btw’), that site is tnsfw,uywaytwhpayd (‘totally not suitable for work, unless your work allows you to watch hardcore porn at your desk’). Ours does…

*boss slaps face*

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Mr. Demi Moore does stuff wearing only a panty, a watch and some socks. Huzzah!

We can see yooouuuuu

See that there? That is man-child Ashton Kutcher filming summink or nuffink in France, which we hear is filled with the French, which is nice.

Not always a fan of the sock/panty look, Mr. Demigod seems to model it just fine. If we were ‘street’ or, indeed, Jenny from the block, that would be spelled with a ‘y’. But we’re not, so it’s not.

The good news is, however, that we are what is known as ‘givers’ or ‘feeders’ or ‘enablers’ or even ‘granters of wishes’, so please find more pictures of nearly-nekkid Ashton over the jumpette. (more…)

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The gays love Tranny! And Tranny loves the gays! But do the gays love each other? Hmmmmn?

What? Moi?

We were going to stick a few more m’s in that hmmmmn, but thought that would be seen as frivolous. Especially in the current climate. Actually, let’s capitalize. Current Climate. We even know someone who’s using the Current Climate as an excuse for getting a former-porn star boyfriend. You know who you are *points finger; wiggles it*.

So it’s officially official in a very official manner – Tranny Banks is beloved of the gays. So much so, that GLAAD – givers of official gay awards – have given her one. No, not like that. Though we wouldn’t put it past us.

Yesterday, at the London’s glittering New York leg of the GLAAD merry-go-round (they’re doing gigs in San Francisco and LA. That’s just showing off), Tyra Banks PLC won the Excellence in Media Award.

*claps; jewels fly off wrist*

Tyra is/was/is very chuffed. This is what she says/said/says on the matter:

‘You embraced me and now I embrace you in front of millions to show you how beautiful you are, how absolutely amazing you are, how giving you are. And I will continue to do that as long as I have a platform. I will continue to get the message out about gays, lesbians, bisexuals and me transgender people.’

‘Thanks’ would’ve sufficed.

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Power to the people/Facebook group… erm, we think not

Well if you've set up a Facebook group, you MUST be serious...What is it with Facebook groups? Or more to the point what is it with people who set up, join and smugly self-promote Facebook groups? Give yourself a pat on the back, you joined the ‘Let’s find Maddie’, ‘RIP Baby P’, ‘I hope Josef Fritzel rots in jail’ and ‘If 100,000,000 members join this group I will call my newborn child Cunty Fuck Face’ group. Well done. That says so much about what a passionate, upstanding citizen you are. Well, at least the last one does.

‘Why the rantery?’ you ask. Well, we hear a group has been set up in retaliation to idiot Pope’s comments last week re. condoms and Aids, andcetera. OK, we get it. He is a cunt who said cunty things, but how is setting up a Facebook group going to change that? Is it that he’ll be browsing his Facebook profile, poking people and laughing at how lardy old school mates have got, and suddenly come across the group in question and be hit with a eureka moment, ‘Oh! People are so angry about that condom debacle they’ve set up a Facebook group in protest. Shucks (because the Pope says ‘shucks’) they MUST be serious. I will revoke my comments and *pops champagne* here’s to safe sex, abortion, gayness and bumming!’

The group has nearly 40,000 members – and by members we do mean penises – who should all be posting a condom to the Pope on Friday. Ooh, Italy’s postmen are going to have a fun, not to mention safe, weekend.

Maybe we’re just missing the point or maybe it’s our carb-comedown, but there’s just something so utterly passive about this ‘activism’, it seems a little bit grand-ma’s diluted squash. Thoughts plural? (more…)

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Be a Loose Trout! Yey!

Loose? We'll be the judge of that.

*gets oversized arrow (red. Flashing, maybe); points it at head*

So those Loose Women – who we j’adore like our own mother. More than our own mother. Except Sherrie Hewson. Who’s just a cock – are looking for a new Loose’n to join ’em on their telly sho’.

Open brackets. Loose Women, for our American chums and chumettes, is The View, British stylee. Close Brackets.  

And it could be you! Oh it’s true. Y’see, they’ve done what is commonly known as a publicity stunt and are giving the public – whoever they may be – the chance to be a Loose Trout. We’re not sure if it’s a matter for the police, but it is a matter for the judging pannel, who consist of two producer-y types, and inexplicably Sherrie Hewson. A strange choice not only because she’s a cock – as mentioned afore – but also because she is the least popular Loose Woman. How do we know this? That question doesn’t even warrant an answer.

All you have to do is a) be a woman and b), c), d), e) and maybe f) send in a one-minute audition tape for the judging pannel to give the once over. So help them god.

Then what will happen is this new Loose female,-not-male,-female will be on the show for a couple of weeks then disappear, never to be heard of again. Spooky.

Now let’s decide – by the power of democracy and Greyskull – which of the Loose Women we’d give our last Rolo to…

Oh and seeing as we’re here, let’s remind ourselves of that time when Joan Rivers said ‘fuck’, live on daytime telly. Funs. (more…)

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