People are talking: Kim and Kanye start the Liftie
Kim Kardashian shared a photo of herself and Kanye West having a snog in an elevator last week. Apparently, it was some kind of veiled reference to Beyonce's recent trouble with her husband and sister in an elevator. The message is clear. The best way to gauge the state of play in a celebrity marriage is to see how they get on in the lift.
You can see where this is going. The Liftie. It won't be long now before all the celebs will be sharing photos of themselves in the lift. And just like the Selfie, if all the celebs decide that their lives are incomplete without a few Lifties, then the rest of us will eventually follow suit and take one ourselves. Sorry, but that seems to be the way things work these days.
The Liftie is bound to be huge in big American cities, where most people have an elevator in their building. In fact, by the time you read this, the Liftie will probably be So Over in New York and they will have moved on to something else. It's a bit trickier here in Ireland, where we are more about the two-storey house.
It's certainly going to be a huge problem for hipsters. They simply have to be on trend. If they don't manage at least 20 different Lifties in the next week, they will probably have to resign from the hipsters. That's a nightmare scenario. They will then revert to just being people with strange hats and hilarious looking bikes.
So take extra pity on any hipster you see about town this week. They are under a lot of pressure. If there is one queueing behind you for the elevator at work, let him jump ahead so he can get a quick Liftie. Don't hassle the hipster who keeps riding up and down the elevator in your hotel; she is just trying to get a shot where she looks suitably ironic. And please don't mention that all this was started by Kim Kardashian and Kanye West. The poor hipsters would be mortified to hear that.
Wacko's hygiene - snow joke
It's been a week full of strange new developments on the Michael Jackson front - nothing like as batshit crazy as what went down when he was alive, but curious nonetheless.
First the world was astounded when the new single turned out to be not that bad - there we all were assuming that some greedy record company execs were just going to rush some half recorded piece of tat out just to score a sentimental number one. Now they - whoever it is is charged with picking over the bones of his legend - have found something even more rare and precious than an old recording - an employee who has yet to spill the beans on what it was like breathing the same air as Jacko. We've heard from the bodyguards, we've heard from the doctors, but now … hold the phone … comes the testimony of the cleaners. And according to them, breathing the same air as the King Of Pop was quite hard because he was a little unsanitary.
Maid number one, as she's being called in the US press, had this to say: "Michael sometimes ran around where the animals were, and he'd track … poop throughout the house and think nothing of it. Then, if you said something, he'd threaten to make doo-doo snowballs and throw it at you."
This of course will tarnish Wacko's legend like nothing else. We've heard about the drugs. We've heard about the "Jesus juice." We've heard about the child molestation allegations. But doo-doo snowballs? Is it any wonder that poor Wacko had a Peter Pan complex when he was clearly surrounded by skivvies who spoke to him in baby language? And is there any chance that we can still blame this on Bubbles?
Whispering sweet nothings
Forget leaves starting to fall from trees, or the nights slowly starting to creep in, there is no surer sign that summer is giving way to autumn than 'The First X Factor Controversy of the Season', now as much a part of our annual calendar as Halloween and Christmas.
The current X Factor scandal (just the first of the many we'll be force fed between now and Christmas) has been dubbed 'Whispergate'. At the Boot Camp stage at Wembley last week, Louis did the unthinkable and apparently chose an act with alleged musical talent. Then, it is claimed, after being approached by a show producer who had a whispered conversation with him, Louis changed his mind and switched the alleged 'talent' for a novelty act.
"It's a fix," fans reportedly said before some of them staged a walk-out from the Wembley Arena, and the remainder took to booing. The newly minted Madame Fernandez-Versini, (the artist formerly known as Cheryl Cole) was also booed for a similar switcheroo. Did this adversity unite the formerly feuding pair? It sure did not. Madame Cheryl apparently snapped at Louis telling him he had " 50 faces".
Producers stated that they do not interfere in the judges' decisions and the whispers were about something else entirely. Regardless, there is no doubt loyal fans will still tune in when the Factor returns to the telly. No doubt the Louis/Cheryl feud will feature week after week. No doubt Simon will say something mean. Oh and there may also be some singing.
Anne Marie Scanlon
Football is back - let's eat
By this stage, 24 hours or so after the Premier League returned to our screens, the screens of our favourite pubs and, in some cases, our real lives, it is already quite hard to imagine what life must have been like in those 14 weeks it wasn't here.
Those 97 cold, hard days with only one of the most entertaining World Cups in living memory to keep us occupied seem as distant and abstract a concept as the Dublin of Behan and Kavanagh is to the capital of today.
By now you are probably already worked up by something that happened in the opening weekend, some minor refereeing injustice, act of skulduggery from another player or a limp and feeble display from a player you knew was useless and should have been sold over the summer.
Some will surely bemoan the return of the behemoth, pointing to the wonderful time we've had watching Rory McIlroy or Ireland's women in the World Cup or the summer of hurling and, while they would be right, the sporting landscape as a whole is a bit like food - there's room for all kinds, but some are clearly more satisfying than others.
In this analogy football is like Chinese food - occasionally it's really good, often it's frustrating but you'll soon be craving more and you will always think the next time will be better.
Yes, this game can be cruel and hurtful, especially if you are just watching it from a distance.
Oirish eyes are not smiling
IT'S more of a bad day than a g'day for Australian/Irish relations with a very silly cartoon in an Aussie newspaper.
The artwork attempted to poke fun at a recruitment drive for Irish nurses in Western Australian hospitals. But depictions of nurses lining up and dancing a jig in front of patients took the racial stereotypes a little too far.
And the addition of a leprechaun doing his best Riverdance impression really reinforced the Oirish bashing. The cartoonist Dean Alton obviously isn't familiar with the expression about being in a hole and stopping digging. He was contacted by people from the Irish People Living in Australia (IPLA) group about the cartoon and made matters worse.
Alton said the following: "When I was in my teens there was a joke."What is an Aussie?" Answer. An Irishman with half of his brain removed. Most Irish people I know have a great sense of humour. I'm Irish. I should know. I hope you feel better soon. Cheers, Dean."
Dean's half-a-brain analogy is about the only thing I can agree with him about!
Snoop on a shoestring
Guests at the Holiday Inn in Exeter must have got a surprise last week, spotting Snoop Doggy Dogg and his entourage tucking into the breakfast buffet. Yup, the Doggfather himself, along with a small selection of his homies, could be found hanging out in a simple, middle-market hotel just off the M5 in a place called Sowton.
Apparently even gangsta-rappers used to a limitless supply of champagne, bitches and chronic have to compromise on the complimentary extras sometimes. Perhaps Snoop and his crew were on a budget. Or maybe there just weren't any Ritz Carltons local to the gig he was playing, at the nearby Timepiece nightclub in Devon, for a reported fee of £20,000. The group requested Hennessey Champagne and Grey Goose vodka on their rider, as you might expect. But after taking a taxi back to the hotel after the gig, they seemed to leave their high-rollin' tastes at the door.
Still, the morning after the gig he would have at least been able to count on a choice between English breakfast, Darjeeling and Earl Grey. Or maybe he made use of the in-room coffee-maker. They come as standard at the Holiday Inn.
In any case, he was the perfect guest, taking time to chat to the staff, and even posing for pictures despite the less than glamorous environs. "He was very pleasant and very polite and happy go lucky," reported the hotel's general manager. It seems the Doggy Dogg crews' days of causing mayhem and vandalising are over, now that the man himself has entered his 40's. "They left the rooms in an absolutely perfect state," she added, thus smashing yet another stereotype - this time about the housekeeping habits of former Crips street gang-bangers. They are, we now know, impeccable.