While King of the Snowflakes Donald Trump has always worn his heart on his sleeve, with his phallically long ties and neurotically overstyled hair, his third wife, Melania, gives away as much as the blankest of fashion models – which is what she was when they met.
I’ll say this about the Trump presidency: it certainly has a clarifying effect. It has, for a start, clarified who the most shamelessly awful people in British public life are, as Trump’s defenders rise like floaters, desperately chasing a cosy ambassadorship or at least a follow on Twitter. Nigel Farage, Arron Banks, Michael Gove, media figures who once had a certain clout but now gain validation only from social media and so should never be mentioned by anyone again; all eagerly posing for photos with their alpha papa and dutifully describing his every face-forward stumble as a graceful pirouette, a litter of Squealers to Trump’s Napoleon (the Animal Farm references come so readily these days).
Even Feminist Amy Schumer Plays Stereotype in 'Trainwreck' - the Female Journalist Who Jumps Into Bed
A couple of years ago, my editor told me to interview a well-known actor. I mentioned this to a friend, and he smirked knowingly. “Better cancel your evening plans. I know at least three female journalists who slept with him after interviewing him,” he said. “Well, I don’t know them, but I’ve heard the stories.”
The day before Amy Poehler and I meet in Cannes, she attends a press conference to promote her new film, the Pixar production Inside Out. At one point, a reporter stands up and addresses Poehler, who voices the lead character: “You must be surprised that you’re here at Cannes. Did you ever expect you’d be here?”
'Will Cops Stop Shooting Black Kids In My Lifetime? Probably Not': Chris Rock Sounds Off On Race, Bill Cosby, and Reality TV
Chris Rock arrives at the Guardian US office in New York looking more like an intern turning up for work experience than the man widely agreed to be one of the greatest standup comedians of all time. This is partly because, even though he has been famous since the early 90s, he carries none of the usual baggage of an American celebrity. He has come from his home in New Jersey on his own, and with no “Look at me, I’m famous!” attitude. But it is also partly because, despite turning 50, he has the slight build of a teenager.
Clinton, Bush, Kennedy - Let's Face It, The U.S. Has More Royal Families than It Knows What to Do With
Last week, when Prince William and his wife, Princess Elsa from Frozen, visited the United States, Piers Morgan – the self-appointed British commentator on America – proved how little he understands the US when he wrote an article saying that the royals’ popularity with its citizens proves America should have its own monarchy.
For those who have missed this enormous international story of grave importance, Keira Knightley agreed to pose topless for the US magazine Interview on the condition that her image would remain wholly unphotoshopped.
Poor George Clooney. Poor tragic, oldster, childless, longterm singleton George Clooney. Did you know he's over 50? Did you know he got divorced over 20 years ago and has not been married since? Instead, he has lurched pathetically, hopelessly from one failed relationship to the next, his biological clock going tick-tock-tick-tock. Meanwhile, his ex-wife, Talia Balsam, who was clearly too good for him, remarried sexy John Slattery from Mad Men and had a son. A family. Ouch! That must have hurt.
Exciting news from the American political scene: birtherism is back! No, not birtherism as in the nonsensical conspiracy theory about Barack Obama actually being born in Kenya, once so popular among political geniuses including Donald Trump. Please – that kind of birtherism is so 2008 (and 2009. And 2010. And 2011. And 2012 …) I'm talking about the all new, all shiny 2014 birtherism: Clinton birtherism!
The only person who will ever know for certain whether Oscar Pistoriusmeant to kill Reeva Steenkamp, or knew he was shooting her but didn't consider the consequences, or simply did not realise he was shooting anyone because she managed to stay superhumanly silent while being shot through a bathroom door with brutal expanding bullets, is, of course, Pistorius himself. But everyone who has been gripped by Pistoration for the past week – a state of being when one has plenty of work to get on with but instead spends all day watching the Pistorius trial – will have some pretty strong opinions on the subject. Especially now that state prosecutor Gerrie Nel's cross-examination of the athlete has, after five pitiless (Nel) and retch-filled (Pistorius) days, come to an end.