People are talking: Mossy's interview with a 'vampire'
Published 26/10/2015 | 02:30
Kate Moss, modern mistress of moral panic, is in the news again for untoward behaviour. She's not been acting drunk on a plane this time, nor has she been caught frolicking naked, nor buried up to her finely-formed nasal bridge in cocaine.
But lest we worry that she's about to get boring or go straight, she's surprised everyone again by only going and moving a 'vampire' into her basement.
According to latest reports, the model is rumoured to have started a relationship with a dashing, 28-year-old Count named Nikolai Von Bismark. A former beau of Princess Beatrice, and himself a playboy photographer slash continental aristocrat, is said, according to the tabloids, to have previously enjoyed quaffing down the odd glass or two of blood. That it was cow's blood, and drunk while on holiday in Ethiopa, is a mere detail. A blood-drinking Count can mean only one thing.
So naturally, Kate, if indeed she has shacked up with him, hasn't moved him into her front room or the attic. He's not, if the tabloids are to be believed, to be found hanging around the kitchen table with a cup of tea. The proper place to put a modern-day Dracula, naturally, is below stairs. Say what you like about Kate, but she knows proper order, and blood-supping exotic foreigners, whether sharing her bed or not, belong in the basement.
And now that she's repurposing her lower ground floor, perhaps she'll have it redecorated as a satanic sex-dungeon. She'd need to get a suitably chic and creepy-looking person to do it, or course. I reckon Karl Lagerfeld should be up to the job. Fashion followers should take note, and prepare to start investing in some demonic looks this autumn. After all, where Kate goes first, the rest of the world still follows.
Age cannot wither Bey
A thankless child may be sharper than a serpent’s tooth and hell, it has been said, has no fury like a woman scorned but they are as nothing to the Dissed Dad.
Matthew Knowles, once the power behind his daughter’s career, was given his P45 by Beyonce in 2011. Since then, the poor man has had to make his way in the world as ‘Beyonce’s Dad’.
Which makes us wonder if he was having a Senior slip-up or simply stirring it when he claimed Bey is the same age as Pink, 36, and not 34 as she claims. Bizarre rumours about Beyoncé’s ‘real’ age have been floating around for years. Some claim that she’s actually in her 40s. (There’s also some hilarious Queen Bee Conspiracy Theorists who claim that she’s so old that her sister Solange is actually her daughter!).
So what if she is two years older than she says she is — once you’re over 21 you’re legally old enough to drink, drive, get married and call your child a preposterous name, so where’s the crime? Come on, Mrs Jay-Z works in a business where
shaving a few years off is practically mandatory.
If the story is true then the biggest shock is that Bey only deducted a mere two years.
Anne Marie Scanlon
Going... going... bong!
For a moment there, it looked as if the Angelus had had its chips. Instead, the nightly broadcast of peoplestaring blankly into space before the Six One News is merely being revamped to make it more “inclusive of people of all faiths and none”.
Which is a weird idea, when you think about it. Surely people with no faith are the very last ones who need a call to prayer, however it’s rejigged? They’re supposed to have given up all that malarkey. It’s like calling last orders at a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.
An even bigger mystery is why diehard Catholics and die-harder liberals can still be bothered getting so worked up by the Angelus. It hardly impacts on their lives much either way. Twice a day, some bells ring. That’s it. Unless you’re Quasimodo, it really isn't that big a deal.
Getting followers of minority faiths involved in the Angelus is definitely good news for Satanists, though. A few "naked sacrificial orgy" clips could be just the thing to boost their popularity.
Fair Play to Aer Lingus
Mammy never told us there would be weeks like this. It started with Black Sunday. Ireland knocked out of the rugby. Joe McCaul out of X Factor. Daniel O’Donnell out of Strictly. Your television out the window. Seriously, what’s the point in holding on to it?
Things got worse after that. The news was full of threatened train strikes and the IRA. The 1980s — they never went away you know. The weather didn’t help. It was all gorgeous blue skies without a puff of wind. Just the kind of stuff we didn’t get in July and August. Somebody in charge of these matters seemed to be taunting us. Our boxing coach, Billy Walsh, announced he was off to work in the States. One Direction cancelled their Belfast gig at the last minute. Female tears all round. Particularly moms who brought their daughters along in the hope of marrying them off to Niall Horan.
And then Aer Lingus came to the rescue. On Wednesday, they announced three new routes to the United States. This wouldn’t be of much interest in any other country. But this isn’t any other country. This is a place that has one deep-seated wish — to go to America as much as possible. Particularly around Christmas time. We couldn’t afford it there for the last seven years, when Black Sunday would have been the last straw. But now we can again. So thanks Aer Lingus. You couldn’t have picked a better week to remind us what really matters.
Mean Girl in White House?
Perhaps it’s our internet-era short attention spans but it’s been quite tough to get into this American election so far: Hillz acting smugly entitled. Trump blustering with all the gravitas of an old testament guinea pig. We’re still mixing Bernie Sanders up with Colonel Sanders. And nobody’s got in a sex scandal yet.
But at least now we have something to look forward to: Lindsay Lohan says she may run in 2020. A Mean Girl in the White House? Let’s see Putin deal with THAT. And let’s see Bush’s old friend Lindsay Graham deal with another Lindsay stealing his thunder. But just as the excitement rose in the heart and head, the know-all, spoilsport internet rose up as one to point out that this wouldn’t work because LiLo won’t yet quite be 35 — an age requirement for the presidency. Not the drunkenness, the rehab, the occasionally British-sounding accent, the dodgy performances, the parent issues. No, it was the age thing pedants seemed to pick up on.
Of course Lindsay would be extremely presidential. She’s already ageing like a president, after all, she’s very familiar with the American legal system and thanks to her love of ladies we’d probably still have a First Lady to obsess about. But the main reason we’d get excited about Lindsay on any ticket is that she could well break the stranglehold that men have always held on scandal in the White House. Go, LiLo!
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