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Get thee to the Thames in Barnes…!

Mind you don't fall off...!

Barnes has got its own sex pest.


The gennelman in question is a cyclist described as ‘naked or naked from the waist down’, who is ‘exposing himself’ to joggers – or mere passers-by, perhaps as they enjoy a scone with jam. Perhaps not – along the Thames. In Barnes. The Thames in Barnes.

If you’re already ‘naked or naked from the waist down’, you’re exposed. Just, you know, generally. Rather than exposing, fleetingly. Right?

Ooh, and CrimeWatch moment: The naked/semi-naked cyclist (let’s hope he carries wetwipes, perhaps in his shoes. We’re assuming he’s wearing shoes) is described as ‘white and about 30’.

Mmmmmm, white and about 30…

Maybe it’s this man.

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And now for one of our favourite irregular sections: ‘Let’s look at naked pictures of a famous we’ve never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever heard of. Ever.’

Nice bonnet.

*cattle-prods workie*

His name is Grady Sizemore, he plays hockey or American football or baseball or Connect 4, and he likes taking pictures of himself naked. Which is indeed jolly nice of him.

And yes, he’s gradily sized, whatever that means.

See for yourself after The Jump (TM)… (more…)

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That’s attractive.


Look at Susan Boyle-in-a-bag, mad as a box of hair and entertaining the Americanish public down London’s glittering New York, doing a mischief with that red scarf (she’s got the two neutrals and a splash rule down, so credit where credit crunch is due), and even bringing some audience members to tears. For realz.

And talking of singing potatoes, that little money shot dance she does after each. And every. Performance is not only creepy, but is a little too much on the wrong side of INSANE for our delicate palates thankyouverymuchindeed. You just know she’s on the verge of doing one of these.

And where’s her cat during all of this showing off, hmmmn? Thanking its lucky stars, that’s what.

Oh, and the real madness begins at 3.26. And wait till she shouts, ‘Give them a wave!’ at the very end. We almost lept out of seats. Then had to be gently lowered back into them again. (more…)

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Have you seen this man? He is wanted in connection with a serious crime.

Seem horribly familiar?

Yes, it is a police e-fit, created to see if the public could help find a murderer in Bolivia.

Police there are looking for someone with a face, eyes, a nose a bit like an upside-down wine glass and a mouth. All features are on the face. There is hair at the top of the face. No information is so far available about a neck or ears.

Fired up by public spiritedness, The Mirror has put together a bunch of other really handy e-fits, which you can see here. Be sure to play the video one: we’re sure we know that suspect!

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Is there no end/beginning to Cheryl Cole’s talents?

Oh, Chez

Oh, Cheryl. Chez. Che. Ch. C. What a wonder thou art! Not only can she speak fluent Geordie, model hair extensions and batter black female toilet attendants (yeah, we know we’re supposed to have forgotten ‘Jigaboo-gate’ by now, but, guess what? We haven’t!), she can also turn out half-decent pop tunes.

Yes, we were scathing about ‘Fight For This Love’, but after we’d heard it 755,000 times in a row on Radio 2, we started to hear something. Now, the follow-up, the title track to her largely scathed 3 Little Words (what would they be? ‘No, Ashley, no’?) is in the world complete with an appearance by Will.I.Am channelling early Spike Lee and lots of topless models with their knickers over their faces.

But for all that, it’s not actually at all bad. To see said video, click here as Polydor have found it makes marketing sense to disable the ’embed’ facility on the promotional video.

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Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, andcetera


Innit gawjus. These baby lost momma meerkat when she died down dead during childbirth, but it turns out all they needed for a mummy replacement was a hotwater bottle and a cuddly toy meerkat. Maybe the Geldof spawn should take note. Ouch.

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Oh look, it’s gay sex in a computer game!

Take those virtual panties off at once!

If we were inclined to play a computer game – which, you know, we’re not. Because, well, we don’t need to justify ourselves to you – we would probably have a quick fondle of the joystick to Dragon Age: Origins, partly because there’s a cute little Spaniard elf involved but mainly because there’s some secret manlove that’s really quite sweet in a Brokeback kinda way.

As (we know!) said, ‘This is more than just a mincing gay pirate or an evasive fade-to-black: there’s choreography, tenderness, humour and even an element of sexual politics’…

And more importantly it’s a tasty way to even out the thumb ache in your joystick hand – which reminds us of this. Yuck.

Watch the ‘sex scene’ over the jump and get yourself your very own CGI-induced fanny tingle. It’s very noughties, don’t you know. (more…)

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Outback? Out the back? Up the bum?

The Bush?

That’s what our brain keeps telling us *punches head*. Still there *punches head*. Still there *punches head*. Still there *punches head*. Still there *punches head*. Still there *punches head*. Still there *punches head* etceterand.

So that nice Paul Freeman has made a nice homo-erotic coffee table book, called Outback. Which is basically porn that obeys the Mull of Kintyre penis rule, uses no more than three colours, and makes the perfect solid base upon which to write your Santymas cards. Which we won’t be sending this year because, well, why break the habit of a lifetime? It’s the gift that keeps on giving, until you get bored of it. You could even put it next to your torso statue, downwind of your Diptyque, slip into nothing at all, and imagine you’re at a clothing optional resort in Palm Springs. Also known as any gymgaysium with the letter y in its title.

Sidebar: Her Maj’s Radio off-of Two is currently playing Stevie Wonder’s ‘I Ain’t Gonna Stand For It’. And honey, neither would we.

Now let’s look at Australianish peoples without their clothes on.

ps. The beach, Minogues, aborigines on meths, flat white, dinkum, the beach, rising intonation, moaning about the British weather yet you all still fucking live here, the beach, closer each day, Home & Away, Sydney Opera House, Natalie Imbruglia’s ‘Torn’, barbie, thongs, boardies, anything ending in ‘o’, Mrs Mangle, the beach, Mad Max and the Thunderdome, Huge Jackman? Yes please, the beach, the beach, the beach, the beach.

pps. Oh and this lot! We’d lose our head if it wasn’t… what’s the rest of that? 

pps. We’d bum this lot to Ulu-fucking-ru and back again. Wethankyou. (more…)

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