Minor Celebrity Gossip for Summer 2005

Big Brother Cull Proposed In Parliament

20/08/05

The House of Commons, and following the recent climax of repetitive TV hit Big Brother Six with Crawley virgin

Eugene Bendytoy taking the big prize, environmental campaigner and M.P. for Nuneaton Tess Smith has tabled

a proposal for the controlled extermination of former contestants. Her motion is currently being discussed in

Westminster by politicians from around the land.

"It's getting out of hand." Smith told the House and Madam Speaker. "There's approximately eighty evictees lose in this country, all vying for ever-decreasing amounts of publicity. We've all seen footage from celebrity circles, former contestants presenting single series of terrible TV shows. It's appalling to us, demeaning for them, and a terrible example to the children. My motion would result in 50% of the BB house's former inhabitants being destroyed in a humane manner by the army with the help of some E4 competition winners. I was against the recent proposals for controlling the U.K.'s badger population on animal rights grounds, but this is a no-brainer."

Indeed, with several previous Big Brother winners having already disappeared from the public consciousness (Was one of them Scottish? Didn't some girl shag Jonathon Woodgate?) and a huge worldwide pleb-pool growing bigger by the year, other countries are expected to follow Britain's lead by using modern technology to put down intellectually subnormal people who were once

well-known for a few weeks. And with this year's contestants having the mean intellect of a sea anemone,

there's unlikely to be a public outcry. Indeed, 2005's mixture of dead-eyed dance automatons, soccer thugs,

and unpleasant flesh-revealing female Chavs, has only furthered the argument among decent, working folk that

the show's contestants be put to death as soon as possible.

Tess Smith's recommendation is expected to pass through the House of Lords later this year with little or no

debate. From there the Metropolitan Police will fly in execution experts from the U.S. to discuss quick and

painless ways of arranging the state-sanctioned deaths of 'Bubble', 'Science', and that fireman twat, along with

many others. In fact the only dissent in Parliament to the bill came from a number of Conservative M.P.s who

asked: "Why does it have to be quick and painless? Can't we have a public referendum on using torture?"

Ross Kemp Selling On Seized Drugs

30/07/05

Lastly we travel to central London where bonehead actor Ross 'On-Wye' Kemp (41) has been a bit

naughty with illegal narcotics seized by the authorities during citywide anti-drug operations

"Mr. Mitchell, sorry Kemp, is helping police with their inquiries." Detective Inspector Brian Bacon told

reporters at a press conference this morning. "To tell the truth, I blame myself. Me and the lads were so

impressed by how hard old Ross was and the fact he's on telly like, we let ourselves be used like cheap

whores. Us police loved how he wanted to hang out with us. Kempy said his dad was a copper and he'd

always wanted to follow in the old man's footsteps. This was the closest he could get, doing research for

his role in ITV's explosive SAS drama 'Ultimate Force'. We didn't ask Ross how watching us shake down

suspected drug dealers was going to help him get inside the head of an armed services tough guy, but he

seemed such a good bloke we let it slide. Unfortunately it's not such a big step as you might imagine from going for a drink with the lad to letting him hold the keys to the station's restricted areas."

Kemp left school at sixteen to work on a building site but was soon embracing the 'New Romantic' musical movement, playing synthesizer in a band called 'Peking Opera Barbarella' whilst wearing a tea towel on his head. For some reason he then drifted into acting, getting his big break selling Fruit N' Fibre, before being cast in once-popular soap misery-fest Eastenders. He lived there for a decade, leaving only when it all became too much after co-star Martine McCutcheon died. As revenge for this disloyalty, the BBC dumped the baldy hardnut in Alaska where he couldn't sleep for fear of bears. Nowadays Ross is much happier, plying his trade for commercial channel ITV, marrying flame-haired Sun editrix and lynch-mob agitator Rebekah Wade in a tasteful Las Vegas ceremony, and spending much of his spare time polishing knives or riding a horse. Unfortunately these recent revelations have precipitated a downfall in the monosyllabic knobhead's fortunes.

"I'd never seen so much cocaine in all my life." Ross told HDUK exclusively by phone from Brixton prison. "Of course I shouldn't have taken it, I don't know what I was thinking. Me and the wife aren't poor and we work in the media, I could have got as much 'white gold' as our septums could take. Maybe I was subconsciously getting my own back on dad, or maybe I just wasn't thinking.

I've really fucked my own arse this time though. I told the rozzers I only made money from people I didn't

know, the stash was free to my friends, but they think I've betrayed their trust. Now I hear The Sun has

started a campaign against me. Apparently they're encouraging readers to ring in and shop any other TV

cops who might be on the 'nasal talcum dust'. My missus is behind that I'm sure, which means my

marriage is up the spout as well. Plus I'm supposed to be starring in The Taming Of The Shrew at

Chichester playhouse tomorrow night. Bugger it. I don't even want to think about what my brother Phil will

do when he finds out I've been nicked."

Brian Harvey Accidentally Hurts Neck In Noose, Falls

Under Train, Shoots Self In Head

04/07/05

To East London, where the latest horrendous mishap to befall former E17 star Brian 'Lady Victoria' Harvey, has

left friends and fan alike ruing the thirty year old's continuing misfortune. This comes just months after an

incident in which the former pop star reversed his Mercedes into some parked cars and fell under its wheels,

suffering multiple fractures to the legs and pelvis. In fact the latest sequence of events seems to indicate Brian

is truly cursed by the fates, because within the space of a single afternoon the former reality TV numpty

wounded his face with a starting pistol, suffered rope burns to the throat as he practiced knot-tying, then tripped

and fell under a locomotive which only just stopped in time, Brian sustaining minor injuries before he lost

consciousness.

Home Defence joined sedated ex-girlfriends, his daughter Teijani, and Brian's manager at the singer's

bedside, where we asked the latter if there wasn't something more to this story than the official line,

particularly since Harvey has already made two confirmed suicide attempts.

"No, no, no. Not at all." Protested Barclay Phase, an agent looking after the careers of many

minor celebs who've fallen on hard times. "That these accidents should occur in the space of a couple of

hours is unfortunate, but it's a complete coincidence. Look, he's coming round. Brian? Brian, can you hear

me? It's Barclay?"

At this point the hospitalised singer whispered, "Did I make it? Is this heaven?" Harvey then lifted his

head, looked round once, muttered: "Oh, fuck, not again", and passed out.

Brian Harvey is a former cocaine dealer who became famous in the nineties as part of groundbreaking

Chav boy band, East 17. By 1997 the dream had soured and he was sacked for admitting to the

consumption of his own bodyweight in ecstasy every weekend. When the tabloids forgot about the drugs

there came a tearful onstage reunion as Harvey was welcomed back into the fold. Sadly, by this time,

everyone had realised the renamed E17 were irretrievably shit. The band broke up, leaving Brian to focus on an ill-advised series of musical team-ups with the likes of bogus asylum seeker Wyclef Jean and garage twats The Truesteppers. His career waning, and with Daniella Westbrook having stuffed all his money up her nose, Harvey was forced to declare himself bankrupt. To make matters worse, that same year he was scalped by what the police describe as "a group of youths" in Nottingham, although some associates say Brian had been talking of buying a tomahawk for a while, stating: "I fuckin' love them native Indians me."

Following unfortunate 'reality' appearances on 'I'm A Celebrity, Get My Soul Out Of My Body' and 'Famous Person Self-Harm School', Brian recently moved back to his home suburb of Walthamstow, a place where he's widely-hated and which last October played host to his most recent record signing. Nobody turned up, and friends talk of depression and self-loathing, but manager Barclay remains upbeat.

"Perhaps some good can come of this latest tragedy." Offered Phase, smiling beatifically. "Radio 1 have already played Brian's new track in tribute, and you know what they say, all publicity is good publicity. Sure, he can't really walk anymore, but otherwise these random accidents might be just the shot in the arm Brian's career needs."

Meanwhile Harvey's recovery continues, with the singer becoming increasingly lucid. Just this morning he told HDUK: "I don't believe I'm still alive, I can't even do that right. Fuck, I'm useless."

Bob Carolgees: "Spit Took My Mojo"

20/08/05

To Cleethorpes, where former Tiswas presenter and pisspoor ventriloquist Robert Carolgees (real name:

Benny Natural), has experienced an unlikely side-effect after selling his celebrity paraphernalia to

concentrate on a small business selling scented candles to holidaymakers.

"I got five grand for that moth-eaten piece of shit, fucking good business I'm telling you." The

fifty-eight year old explained to HDUK in the fusty environs of his seafront shop. "Only problem is, now I

can't get it up. I knew it'd be a wrench letting him go, that mutt was my meal ticket and I kept him close

for years. But it turns out Spit didn't just have sentimental value, he was also controlling my cock."

As a young man Carolgees worked as a pig for the Birmingham police force before turning to the world of

seventies entertainment, borrowing his stage name from a mobile disco run by two swinger friends called

Carol and George. Soon 'Bob' was living the high-life of minor celebritydom, performing for a bored Queen at the London Palladium and visiting the British Armed Forces in obscure foreign lands. Carolgees also invented a cornucopia of animal characters to showcase his ability to almost throw his voice, creations such as Cough the Cat who would cough, and a pink lion called Plonky who just sort of sat there, both winning the public's collective heart. But it was the obnoxious punk dog Spit whose calling card was sort of sounding like he could expel phlegm which provided Carolgees' with his biggest success. Indeed, up until his recent sale, Bob and the black mongrel hadn't been out of each other's company in thirty years.

"That dog was a bit weird." Eighties pop sensation Hazell Dean, one of Carolgees' ex-lovers, told Home Defence. "They were unhealthily close I'd say. Sometimes Bob would wear Spit on one arm while we went at it and then throw his voice. It's a bit fucking odd to hear male sex noises coming from a glove puppet, let me tell you. No wonder something's amiss with his plonker now Spit's gone, there was always something wrong with that relationship."

We rejoined a distraught Bob in the shop he's called home ever since his star waned, Surprise Surprise was axed and Carolgees found himself unable to generate interest in his magician alter-ego Houdi-Elbow (an absolutely hilarious pun on Houdini). The man seemed happy enough at first, even offering to sell us a candle that smelt of rose petals, but when we returned the discussion to his penile disorder Bob became distraught.

"I've tried everything, viagra; herbal remedies, shedloads of porn - nothing works!" Carolgees cried out in despair. "I even contacted the bloke who bought Spit at Christie's but I couldn't afford to buy him back, and when I tried to appeal to the guy's better side by describing my knob plight he just laughed and said that was funny, ever since he bought Spit he'd had a raging hard-on."