Her publicists may claim that the latest tattoos on Angelina Jolie’s arm commemorate the birthplaces of her adopted children, but geographers have been quick to point out that the three sets of coordinates actually mark the location of Spud-U-Like booths in North London.

‘That’s nonsense,’ said Harry Crumb, publicity agent to the star. ‘They represent places close to Angelina’s heart and the fact that fast-food restaurants may also be found at those locations is pure coincidence.’

Not everybody, however, is surprised or disappointed. ‘She does love of good jacket potato,’ explained Rick Kenny, who runs the Spud-U-Like on London’s Gravy Road. ‘She comes here at least once a month when she’s in the country and I was very proud to discover that she’s decided to mark her love for our food in this way.’

(Story)

Hazel Blears’ bid to become the Labour Party’s deputy leader has taken a knock after an unfortunate choice of clothing led to her being ignored at a gathering of party members.

‘It was like she just disappeared into the background,’ said Mr. Stan Stokes, 72, a Hackney councillor who attended the Friday night meeting. ‘I thought I was having a flashback to my years in Korea when I’d often come across camouflaged Chinese soldiers. The only difference is that they weren’t as short as Hazel and were a lot less communist…’

The meeting descended into farce as party members complained about an odd squeaking noise coming from the curtains. The mystery was only solved when the building’s caretaker discovered Ms. Blears standing in front of the green leaf patterned drapes, apparently half-way through her speech and unaware of any problems.

‘I understand there might have been a slight problem with the venue,’ she later admitted. ‘But this in no way should prevent me from becoming leader of this party. Peter Hain often disappears when he stands near something bright orange and Hillary Benn can’t be seen if the weather turns grey and cloudy.’

(Bigger!!!)

Bald mice with low self-esteem might soon find an answer to their prayers after scientists successfully grew mouse toupees under laboratory conditions. Mixing the animal’s DNA and that from celebrity human test subjects, scientists have created small patches of hair that look indistinguishable from the animal’s natural coat yet have the distinguishable characteristics of their donor.

‘This is the first major breakthrough in toupee design since the 1970s and the invention of the Shatner weave,’ said Dr. Albert Prune of Geneva’s Bald Mice Institute. ‘We hope that this method will be easily applied to humans. We have discovered that with just a bit of DNA from Terry Wogan, we’ll be able to grow the world’s most technologically advanced toupee, impervious to mid-life crises, self-doubt, and transvestite Eurovision finalists from the Ukraine.’

(Bless…)

Hattip: Ms. Baroque

After a long day spent at her piercing business in Nottingham, Laura Coates couldn’t be bothered to cook herself a meal when she got from work on Monday night. Instead, the twenty seven year old single mother ordered herself a curry from her local takeaway, thinking she was in for a taste sensation from the Far East. Instead, she found herself in nostril hell as she discovered the severed nose of TV celebrity Chris Tarrant in her prawn jalfrezi.

It’s thought the nose entered the food chain during Tarrant’s knife fight in a curry house on Monday. He didn’t report the nostrils missing until four hours later, by which time they’d been lightly broiled and seasoned with a rich mixture of exotic condiments.

Ms. Coates is pragmatic about her find and promises to return the nose to the celebrity presenter. ‘I’m honoured to have helped Chris find his nostrils,’ she said. ‘I’ve washed his nose from him and managed to get every big of curry powder from up his nostrils. I’ve also given it a piercing and attached a chain so that Chris can be sure he won’t lose his nose again the next time it falls off.’

Tarrant admitted he was delighted by the find. ‘It’s dust fabulous dat my dose is coming back to me,’ he said. ‘At least it means I’ll stop talking in dis silly voice. Ur-hugh!’