thLEECH

Sucking the blood of popular entertainment

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I As one who's very fond of a good dose of protein. leech .v; s saddened to hear about the parnful death of Atkins Nutritionals UK. However. there rs sorne Joy to be gleaned from the fact that the cretins responsible for popularrsrng the annoying shortening of the word ‘cart )ohydrate' to ‘carbs' rnrght actually get their treads kicked in down the dole office. Must we cut down on syllables as well as the burldrng blocks for a healthy body rn order to retain that must have skeletal chic? One can never keep up.

I Join leech In sticking up for fellow anrrnals and spare a thought for Honey. the innocent little otter who now has Moby rrnaker of rnusrc for people who don't lrke music all that much. really) as her adoptrve dad. thanks to a fan at hrs King Tut's grg. Hang on.

maybe she doesn‘t know yet. It's probably something he wanted to sit down and talk through with her himself. rrght'? Imagine finding out tvloby was your Dad though: she'll probably remrnd hrm that he's done nothing decent since 'Go'. denounce hrm, then slam the door on hrs punchable face wrth her little otter paws.

I Someone else who's also probably the owner of a fine little mammal rs Miss Minogue. Far be rt for Leech to be seen syCOphantrcally dribbling

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all over pop stars. but goodness. wasn't the SECC a good show? Perfect rrght don-an to her teeny if}

rnch corseted waist rnot that it") inches has ever struck Leech as being all that srnallr. The heady cocktail of sweaty girls and boys rn the audrence rnade Leech come over a brt peculiar. but that was probably Just the thought of Oliver Mar'trne/ rolling about backstage wrth rust a Kylie feather to cover hrs decency.

I Speaking of a mouthful. there was a less frtéry performance from Texas boys . . . And You Will Know Us By the Trarl of Dead at OMU who. despite speculation. did not set the stage alight at grg finale. or throw their drum krt rnto the audrence a la Reading Festrval. Thrs must have been a relief for audrence members Mogwar. After all. no one wants to buy records from a band wrth bits of egurpment lodged rn their craniums. especially ones that don't even sing that much.

I Still-lrvrng-at-home-at-35-years-old sons across the country have been rocked by the arrrval of that Playboy mansion computer game. Play rt for two hours hoprng for a glimpse of digital tit”? Please. Leech wants to know why they don't Just go out and buy some proper Jazz mags like even, one else. Got them all already ’? Then. there's. always. lrke. real women and stuff. Just a thought.

I Remarnrng on the very frrnges of polrtrcs. Christine Hamilton rs rn conversation at the Concert Hall thrs fonnrght abOut her book For Better. Fer l'r/Orse. One can only asswt‘e that the wOrse part refers to her career as wife to vacuous android Nerl. and presumably the better is the money she hopes to rake rn talking about rt. Trll death do us part? If only.

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These words might strike fear into the heart of many a ScotRail shift worker but trains that leave Queen Street and Waverley at 11.30pm each night are veritable sociology experiments on rails. The volatile mix of nervous first dates coming to a tentative climax. pungent gig goers clutching bent posters and the bloke who made it to Burger King a few sweaty seconds before the train left. What better way to wind down? Just make sure you don’t accidentally get off at Croy.

No one likes confrontation but note leaving is the essence of cowardice. It fuses disgust and spinelessness in spectacular fashion - yes I'm not happy about this, no, I don’t have the gumption to discuss it like an adult. Come to think of it, children would never leave notes; they like to have things out in the open. We all want to know who ate that last Cherry Bakewell or didn't clean up their own vomit after that ‘bad pie‘ but a Post-it just isn‘t the right forum for discussion.

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