Dear John Leslie

You walked past me and you were wearing beige corduroy trousers with a dark brown leather belt which had a gold buckle, there were two holes to spare on your belt but there were evident signs of wear on the last hole suggesting that you had either borrowed the belt from someone who was larger than you or recently lost some weight. You looked very smart with your shirt collar sticking out of your navy blue lambs-wool jumper, although, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you could have done with a once over from a de-fuzzer. I don’t suppose you have one of those though do you John? I remember being surprised that you had, possibly, three days growth of stubble but then I thought that you were probably taking a break from the strict shaving regimes that are necessary for your television appearances. I could tell that you looked after your skin and moisturised regularly but suffered slightly with open pores. I have never noticed this problem on the countless photographs I have of you so I’m assuming that a talented make-up artist gave you some valuable advice on this matter.

I smiled and thought, thank God, he’s human when I noticed the small amount of sleep gathered in the nook of your left eye. You must have felt my stare because you lifted your perfectly manicured hand and as you smoothed out your light crows feet with your thumb you wiped away the offensive dried green residue with your index finger (there was a terrible wick on there John, I was worried it would become infected).

I followed you all afternoon and stood behind you at the ice-cream van, as you were asking for a Mr Whippy with a flake and nuts on, I leaned forward and deeply inhaled your scent. It was more than a smell John, it became a feeling! You may remember a fracas that occurred shortly after you had made your purchase as unfortunately I heard someone say something insulting about you and your relationship with Catherine Zeta-Jones and there was nothing that I could do other than punch her full-on in the face. I broke her nose and she suffered from severe concussion and it was then that we parted company as I was escorted from the fate by armed police.

I later discovered that your scent came in a bottle labelled Givenchy Pour Homme. Now I always smell like you. Anyway John I’ve got to go as my wife is calling me downstairs for supper. It’s my youngest son’s Holy Communion tomorrow and I’ve lots to prepare. I hope this has an effect on my son because I’m now estranged from my eldest son as he chose hairdressing over his religion and I refuse to have a gender-blender under my roof.

Please may I have a signed photograph of you because now my son is dead to me I have a spare frame on the mantle.

Exclusive Kylie Sex Tape

Celebrities love nothing more than, opening a shopping centre, enjoying a glass of champagne and indulging in a few hours of passionate sex. But sex with a celebrity is not complete without the celebrity sex tape.

Kylie Minogue may be small but she has the sexual appetite of a monster. A source informs us: “Kylie carries her Sex Tape everywhere she goes just in case she comes across that special someone. It’s a Maxell 60 tape. Sixty Minutes of sexy tunes spread out along that brown shiny tape and encased in erotic transparent packaging, see-through is Kylie’s favourite colour. It has sticky white paper on it with ‘Kylie’s Sex Tape’ scrawled all over in the handwriting of someone who has just had the most passionate sex of their life.’ The source continues…

On a night like This Kylie’s Got to Be Certain that she can play the tape at the most impromptu moments so she always carries in her handbag a walkman and a pair of hot, round, firm, pink speakers which she can plug in as she gets a plug in. Kylie likes to take it Slow and teases her sex partner by gently rubbing her finger around the play button. As she pulls her lover close to her and takes his tongue in her antipodean vocal hole she tells him ‘This is Especially for You’ presses her finger down on play – real hard and Wow!. The first track on the tape is Roger Whitaker’s unique version of Wind Beneath my wings and it’s Love at First Sight. The whistling and emotional turmoil sends Kylie into a sexual frenzy and she tests her lover by slapping him and spitting in his face. It’s In Your Eyes she tells him. She repeats this throughout the track and then calms the situation by following with some Simply Red as her lovers cheek is a glowing crimson. Kylie loves her men to be meaty but a bit Slow so she plays them Simple Minds to bring the point home as their Two Hearts meet. After a few minutes of sexually Spinning Around Kylie likes her session to reach a spiritual level so the next track is We Are The World by USA for Africa. Her lover is in a hurry, Give Me Just a Little More Time she tells him as Paul McCartney’s We All Stand Together blasts out of the tight Speakerphone. The frogs sweet chorus is a cause for Celebration as Kylie indulges in role reversal and demands to her partner ‘Put Yourself in My Place’. This Red Blooded Woman could go all night but she’s got to perform at an expensive gig in Saudi Arabia. Come Into My World she commands and then goes mad shouting ‘There’s Tears on My Pillow’ which she simply cannot abide. He asks her why ‘Je Ne Sais Pas Pourquoi’ Responds the X neighbours star. After mopping up Kylie is normally full of regret ‘Did it Again’ she says to herself as she storms out of the room. ‘Please Stay’ asks her lover ‘I Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ He shouts as the door slams ‘What Do I Have to Do?’ He Cries and although Kylie’s exit was rather rude he admits ‘I Wouldn’t Change A Thing’. Meanwhile Kylie has packed the Sex Tape back into her handbag and runs to catch a Locomotion to that expensive gig in Dubai, the source tells us.