People are talking: Don’t just do it, BDSM&Q it!
It's not the first place you would think of for a kinky shopping trip, but B&Q the British DIY superstore, wants you to skip Ann Summers when shopping for sex accessories and head to them instead.
The decidedly unsexy home-improvement chain is making a bid for your bedroom business. And I don't mean chests of drawers, paint samples and curtains. Bringing a whole new smutty subtext to its speciality in 'hardware', the store is hoping to capitalise on the Fifty Shades of Grey marketing power.
A key scene in the film sees billionaire home-improvement enthusiast Christian Grey pay a visit to Anastasia Steele in the hardware store where she works, looking to stock up on rope, cable ties and gaffer tape - all the better to punish her with, of course.
B&Q promptly released an " internal memo" to the press in which management advised all its staff to be on the lookout for "sensitive" customer questions about items in stock that might be bondage-appropriate, before adding (har har) that, "Customer satisfaction is our number one priority."
The memo was later revealed to be a marketing ruse, but the damage is done. There won't be a customer in the whole place this weekend who will be able to say the words hose, screws or, worst of all, wet room, without feeling like a total perv.
Grammy deja vu all over again
Anne Marie Scanlon
You wouldn't need a psychic to predict the Grammys. Here comes Madonna once again attired in a skimpy 'sexy' outfit. (It was supposed to be Matador-themed but looked more like a collision between Wolf Hall and New York's Chrysler Building).
Inevitably Madge bared her arse. Again. Yawn. There goes Kanye storming the stage. Again. And in another Grammy deja vu he was, once again, championing the cause of Beyonce just like last time he invaded the stage in 2009.
Mrs Kanye, Kim Kardashian, the owner of the world's most powerful arse, looked delighted with her hubby's antics. We wonder if she's not just a little bit put out by her fella so publicly campaigning for Bey all of the time.
After all, Ms. Knowles is also in possession of a well-known, much admired arse herself. She and Jay Z used the occasion for yet another public outing for their child, and where Jay and Bey go everyone else is sure to follow, so Baby Blue wasn't on her own.
Rihanna led the lassies in the hideous but headline grabbing gowns, in a massive pink toilet roll cover that even the brides in My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding would be hard pressed to find worthy of an outing.
Joy Villa got her 15 minutes by wearing a dress constructed of orange fencing material usually found on building sites. OK, so nobody had predicted building-site chic. It may catch on, Madonna for one would be only too pleased to sport a 'builder's bum'.
Myleene drives the mummies mad
Myleene Klass's elder daughter, Ava, is seven years of age. This, any other mother would think, is plenty of time for a person to get to grips with one rule of parenthood. I won't even call it an unspoken rule, because it's not. Everyone, but everyone knows that you don't comment on how other people are doing it. Or not to their faces, anyway.
God knows everyone is tut-tutting about everyone else, either silently or far from their ears, but to their faces, no. Not unless you wish to incur their wrath. And online, on Instagram, when you're a celebrity with almost 80,000 followers? Really, Myleene, what were you thinking?
Myleene posted on Instagram a picture of an invitation to a birthday party that her daughter Ava had received from a classmate in her private London school. The mother had suggested that instead of buying a present for the birthday girl, everyone should donate a tenner towards something for the whole class. Her kids had nominated a Kindle and a desk. "Very studious choices", the mother noted, breaking, subtly, that other rule: no bragging.
"Bonkers," Myleene pronounced, not mentioning that the invitation was from last year and not thinking this might backfire. And backfire it did, with shouting in the playground and hurt feelings. And we're not talking children, who can be vicious, but not as vicious as a mother humiliated.
"If you've got a problem, talk to me in private," Myleene is reported to have responded, which was a bit rich, obviously. There are, Myleene has since admitted, "some hard feelings in the playground." As her child, no doubt, can testify.
Change is as good as arrest
There's an old feminist slogan which goes: If we can put one man on the moon, why not all of them? The same thought must have occurred to many people last week on hearing about the arrest of Paul Murphy of the Socialist Party for questioning over the incident last November in which the Tanaiste was trapped in her car for over two hours by water charges protesters.
If we can arrest one TD, why not the rest of them too?
Let's do the maths. Six guards were sent to nick Murphy, and there are 166 TDs. That means, if we were to surprise them all one morning in the same way, it would only take 996 guards, which is less than 10 per cent of the entire force. Imagine. One fell swoop, and we'd be rid of all the smug, overpaid busybodies forever.
The important thing to remember is not to let them out again, because then we'll only have to listen to them moaning about how unfair it was. Paul Murphy was barely in the clink long enough to worry whether he'd left a gas ring on at home, but his supporters treated him afterwards as if he was Dublin South-West's answer to Nelson Mandela. Damien Dempsey was probably already working on a charity single demanding his release. Talk about a lucky escape.
Kept against his will for hours in a place where he didn't want to be? Well, at least Murphy knows now how Joan Burton felt.
There was worse to come, as the Anti-Austerity Alliance man's partner revealed that Paul had been in his pyjamas when the police burst in that fateful morning. Say what? There's nothing more middle class than PJs. If he was really serious about retaining his credibility as a working class hero, Murphy should've been wearing saggy Y fronts and a string vest. Rookie error, comrade.
Our Hozier is the man
Mild mannered Irish chaps can finally breathe a sigh of relief, because a geeky Irish bloke has made it big.
Singing sensation Hozier made a massive impression at the Grammys while looking like an overdressed eldest son at an embarrassing family gathering.
Irish global stars usually carry around more testosterone than a rugby-club dressing-room. We have Liam Neeson threatening to find you and kill you. Bono just wants to save the world and invade your iPod. And Jonathan Rhys Myers and Colin Farrell do more smouldering than a recently extinguished bonfire.
And then there's mixed martial arts fighter Conor McGregor, who I really wouldn't fancy meeting down a dark alley.
But now there's a new Irish kid on the block who looks all vulnerable and shy, but still manages to hang out with Taylor Swift and share stages with Victoria's Secrets models. He also managed to bag a song of the year nomination at this years Grammys without breaking a sweat
Hozier may only be 24 but he managed to survive a stage duet with Annie Lennox at the Grammys and still look like he was enjoying himself.
Now that's a lot more scary than bashing the living daylights out of some guy in an MMA bout!