Craig David – or Wendy Craig to his friends – is now one of those people who lives in Miami. We know this because we had the misfortune of having jack diddly buggery squat to watch on the telly once and found ourselves open cake-holed at a show called Fearne Cotton meets… Craig David. The last bit of the title is interchangeable, according to whichever celebrity has a window/is in-between PRs.
If anyone’s taking notes, Fearne Cotton meets dot-dot-dot is what is known in the business as really shit. The ridiculous premise that Fearne Cotton is standing outside, say, Mischa Barton’s house fretting to camera, ‘Will she let us in?’ when there’s still 45minutes of Fearne Cotton meets… Mischa Barton to run is insulting even to the stupid people.
Anyway, back to Craig David’s newly-discovered singing career. His flat in Miami is what is known in the business as trashy as fuck and it doesn’t matter how good his body fat ratio is, he’ll always be the man with the eye-liner beard to us.