I wonder if Brian McFadden looks at himself in the mirror, or in the papers, and says mournfully, "Jesus, I'm such a penis!" The red tops today show him giving the finger to the cameraman, his trousers drenched in his own piss.
A true rebel.
In The Globe last night. I like the place. I agree with Emma, it's like a genuine European bar, as opposed to an Irish bar that tries to be cosmopolitan (Cocoon, Zanzibar, Q Bar). Plus, the 'hotties are manifluous, roysh!' Hadn't been there since yore, I'll be going back and merry making in the sooner rather than the later.
After The Globe, to Ri Ra with us. Spent scant time therein, Richie and Fennell were engaged in battle on the foosball table, so myself and Austin travelled to the Mercantile. As usual, we were ushered from pillar to pillar ("can't drink here, bud, closin' up") before trotting off into the night.
Place is a dump anyway.
In pop news: Jamelia signed up by top Hollywood agency. Robbie takes up boxing to lose the flab. Emma Bunton moving to US to revive career. See WAP.
Baby Spice always was my favourite. God speed, Ms Bunton.