A LITTLE bitty tear lets him down. You could never dub Andy Murray Mister Happy, even when he’s cleaning up, as he’s doing in Oz. You could never sing “grey skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face” to him. Mister Mournful, maybe.
He’s been at it again. Crying again on TV, this time for a chum stricken with cancer. No laughing matter, for sure, but please Andy, if you must, save your grief in private, not in television’s glare. Cheer up, for gawd’s sake. Make that your motto for 2013.
By the way, these muscular topless shots we’re seeing of you, are your eyes on Wimbledon or the next Mr Universe competition?
Old on, Patsy
Patsy kens it, her second husband Jim Kerr kens it, everybody kens it by now. Patsy Kensit’s conclusion with 45 looming: “The great thing about being in your forties is you don’t care so much about what people say about you. It’s a wonderfully liberating time. A godsend time.”
Patsy is three times married. Currently single.
Afterwords . .
. . . Over the age of 55? All you need to live comfortably for the rest of your life is £500,000. So claim relevant firm LV, formerly Liverpool Victoria. They’re joking, of course. Who writes their scripts? Cameron or Clegg? Maybe Miliband, even?