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I was outraged this week to see topless pictures of Sophie Rhys-Jones in the Sun. It sickened me, to see such gross invasion of her privacy. The Press Complaints Commission upheld complaints from the Royal Family about the Sun. He clearly believed the pictures to be obscene. A good friend of mine once told me that obscenity is anything that gives the Judge an erection. I can only conclude that the head of the Commission got a stiffy. I, personally, find this extremely offensive. The thought of this man with a boner had me running for the toilet. To be sick, mind.
Another story that caught my eye was that of the death of Screaming Lord Sutch. It was truly sad to see such a great man leave us. Although he did commit suicide which the bible tells us is wrong. In... er... one of the books, dammit, I can't remember but it's definitely against it anyway. Oh, and his girlfriend said he wasn't a very political man. And he never got elected. Bollocks, the guy was shit. That's the last time I copy someone else's leader.
This week the ugly spectre of homophobia rose to greet us. Boyzone's Stephen Gately outed himself after a former colleague threatened to sell the story. I can now say that even though I am the only former member of Boyzone still alive I am in no way responsible for the threat. In fact I am a supporter of Gay Rights. Only last week I campaigned in Brighton for gays to have long holidays in foreign holidays. Preferably years long.
The Royal wedding was great, wasn't it? It filled me with a kind of pride I haven't since my own daughter was married. In fact I don't think I was only in having strong paternal feeling for Sophie. Standing there in her nice dress. Mmm. It's a shame that she's married to that bald gimp, Edward, seeing as my divorce has come through.
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