Columnists

By Karen FenesseyTHERE are many things that I love about Christmas - carol singing, pretty baubles and getting gifts from people who’ve really made an effort to understand my complicated psyche (and that’s not many!).

by James CaanYou know what I like to do at Christmas time? Fuck broads - that’s what I like to do. It’s long been a practice of mine to spread peace and goodwill to all womankind during the yuletide period - skinny broads, fat broads, big titty broads, broads with glass eyes, prosthetic legs and sometimes  - God forbid - ugly broads with no fuckin’ right to have my dick in them. So that’s what I like to do at yuletide – and if you don’t like it, you can stick up your ass.

I'VE been lucky enough to meet stars of stage, screen and indeed, some of my biggest sporting heroes. But the one interview which touched me most was with the woman who provides the voice you hear in post office queues. I am talking, of course, about those famous words, 'cashier number five, please'. She was the most wonderful lady, answering all my questions with grace and a good deal of wit. Unlike that monosyllabic fuckstick, Meg Ryan.

By Karen Fenessey I AM one of these people who genuinely believes that inter-racial marriage is okay. That’s why I was utterly horrified to be brutally ejected from a Jew-Protestant unification ceremony (or ‘wedding’) on the grounds that I was an ‘anti-Semite’. Any one who knows me understands that I have absolutely no problem with the Jews and have stated time and time again that I forgive them for all those bits in the Holy Bible where they killed Jesus.

GOR' blimey guv'nor and gadzooks! Thrice I had partaken in the devil's dandruff that very morning, and now I was well and truly off me crust, ta very much. The willing young lady of the night what I'd procured the previous evening was still wriggling around on me boat race like an eel on a bleeding frying pan. "I've had enough of this lark - now begone scarlet woman and leave me a couple of Rizla on your way out," I tell her.

HE is one of the biggest stars of his generation, known for his acid wit and his flamboyant sense of style. Boy George - icon, artist, enigma - gives the Daily Mash a privileged peek inside his luxurious London home...

By Mervyn King, Governor of the Bank of EnglandNORTHERN Rock? Knob-gobblers, more like. That bucket-fanny chairman turns up at my gaffe, pin-striped, watch chain, Saville-fuckin'-Row. Says “Merv, I’m out of my depth, need 30 bills for a bail or we are getting arse-banged by the regulator and, by the way, so are you.” Cock-swiveller.

Great moments in sport, No.87: Travis Bickle remembers the 1981 Headingley TestIt’s been three days of Australian dominance. I’m thinking the only thing that can save England from certain defeat is for a real rain to come along and wash away all these scum-sucking Aussies…fucking Mau-Maus.

Great moments in sport, No. 87: Grace Jones remembers the 1973 FA Cup Final, Leeds United v SunderlandOmmmmmmmmmmm! Screeeeechhhh! The entire Leeds United team wanted to eat my black ass out with their boys’ lips... arghhhhhhhhhhhh! I needed something to bring me down fast, so I stole some quaaludes from Johnny Giles’ locker... dance for me Reaney, you’re my fucking slave - do you hear me? Dance!

By Karen Fenessey ANYONE who knows me will be able to tell you that I am one of the most inclusive and sympathetic women you will ever meet. This is why, without any prompts, I go to great lengths to help my down-and-out sister who, if I must speak frankly, is a fat cow.