Taylor Made

Steven Taylor does ok for himself these days, despite not featuring as often as he probably should for ailing club Newcastle United. To help soften the blow, he has former FHM High Street Honey winner Tanya Robinson waiting for him at home to chuck the odd ready-meal in the microwave and massage his Gears of War 2-sore hands. Thing is though, when you have such a prime specimen on tap, what do you do when you go on holiday?


Get the lads together and basically pretend you’re on a gay cruise of course! Here are some cracking holiday snaps from when the big guy visited Las Vegas recently.
Ultimately though this isn’t about Northern chaps wearing terrible shirts and spilling drinks on themselves, it’s much more about Tanya Robinson being so hot I want to drive up to Newcastle now and sell Mr Taylor my parents for a quick bit of glory hole action with his lady. See her pole dancing and feel thoroughly depressed about your own girlfriend here:

I’m a WAG, Get Me Out of Here!

The great thing about WAGs is that left to their own devices they just become primal nymphomaniacs, incapable of anything approaching rational thought without either a man or a camera to tell them what to do. At least that’s how The Daily Fascist views them anyway, with “sex-starved” Carly Zucker and Nicola McLean apparently already falling apart in some jungle as part of some pointless reality TV show. The pair have reportedly been growing close (see where this is going?) after confiding in each other about how much they miss their men.

The delicious Zucker, somehow engaged to Chelsea brain donor Joe Cole, fantasised about what she would do when she got home to him: “Oh, I can't wait to jump into bed and feel him. I want to get my hands on his buff body. He’s so soft. I just want to be touching him and kissing him,” she drooled. The slightly less classy topless model McLean, dating the slightly less glamorous Peterborough United player Tommy Williams, sighed: “Oh, don't get me started. I've been thinking about that too!” The 32G-canned blonde continued: “He's in for a real treat when I get out of here. This is the longest I've ever gone without sex with Tommy and I really miss him.”

Nicola and Carly seemed to hold each other’s gaze at this moment, perhaps a little bit longer than one might suspect of two women who’ve only known each other a fortnight. “Do you ever feel like you wanna just let it all go while you’re out here? Take a break from reality and everything at home?” Carly asked her, the moonlight embodying her words with a serene power. “We both miss our men so much,” Nicola said, gently massaging Carly’s back, “but they can’t be here, and we both have needs.” She paused. “They’d understand wouldn’t they?” Carly stared deeply into Nicola’s eyes and seemed to dive into the luxurious pools that were her irises, before subtly arcing her head towards the busty temptress and whispering: “make love to me; make me feel like a woman again.”

The pair shared a longing kiss, and Carly drizzled her tongue along Nicola’s soft lips as she manoeuvered her hands around the blonde’s ample bosom. Carly let out an almost imperceptable moan as her legs slowly parted, and Nicola cradled the back of her head and began softly kissing her neck. Carly’s whole body tingled with anticipation, as Nicola’s fingertips danced down her firm stomach and milky thighs, before confidently sliding her bikini aside and holding Carly’s moist and engorged…

WOW, sorry about that folks, I don’t know where that came from. People in the office are looking at me in quite a strange way now.

Anyway, in other Zucker-related news, it’s actually really hard being rich apparently, so I’m happy I live essentially in a bin, with no food in the fridge and a rising tide of septic water in the kitchen sink: “Money can be a burden, that’s why I got stressed last year,” she lamented. “I had too much too soon. I could choose what I wanted and so I ended up indecisive. I had a massive house that I couldn’t control or clean, it took all day.” Boo-fucking-hoo love.

Warning: Contains a Tenuous Analogy

The world of wannabe WAGs / glamour models is apparently a fickle one. Just days after the office party in honour of Danielle Lloyd and Chantelle Houghton becoming official BFFs, they have fallen out spectacularly according to the usual gossip channels. The big-chested Celebrity Big Brother winner was on the receiving end of Lloyd’s sharp tongue for dating her fantastically desirable ex, the irrepressible Jermain Defoe. So yet again the pint-sized Portsmouth striker has hot girls fighting over him. It just isn’t fair.

Anyway, Lloyd was overheard at London’s Embassy Club mumbling this somewhat oblique insult: “If Jermain wants her, he’s welcome to her. She’s not like me — she’s like Woolworths.” Interesting analogy there Danielle, but I’m not quite sure it works. You see, both Ms Lloyd and Ms Houghton are pretty cheap composites of various plastic items, so I’m not quite sure what that makes Lloyd if Houghton is “Woolworths.” Costcutters maybe? I don’t know.

An unnamed insider helpfully clarified though: “Imitation is the highest form of flattery. So Dan is entertained by Chantelle’s style-stalking. She got a boob job, started the glamour modeling, and began hanging out with Danielle’s friends at her favourite nightclubs.” So far, so impressively descriptive and egotistical. “But there’s only one Danielle Lloyd, and she’s amused that her ex has pulled the Woolworths version of herself,” the source concluded smugly. I still don’t get it.

In case you care, Lloyd was out celebrating the 21st birthday of former Big Brother girl Chanelle Hayes. You know, the one that thinks she’s Victoria Beckham. Suffice to say, it was a truly magical night.

Pointed Stick

Premier League new boys Stoke City are on the public’s radar for two main reasons: making Arsene Wenger cry; and delivering the most dangerous set-pieces in the league. The man behind these incredible throw-ins is of course Rory Delap, and now 12 games deep in the season, he is responsible for seven of the Potters’ goals. The human sling-shot has now amazingly been headhunted to compete as a javelin thrower in the 2012 London Olympics by Athletics Ireland. The Republic of Ireland international was a schoolboy javelin champ, but bizarrely chose to pursue a career in football instead…has he not seen the javelin WAGs??

Anyway, the world record is just shy of 100 metres, but when you consider that Delap’s longest throw this season is more than 45 metres with a considerably less aerodynamic object, maybe the midfielder is yet to find his true calling. Mary Coghlan, head of Athletics Ireland, said: “We don’t have any javelin throwers competing at the World Championships next year so of course we would welcome him. To reach the acquired standard would be extremely difficult but nothing is impossible. Certainly, if he wanted to try and throw the javelin for Ireland we would be more than delighted to have him.” A member of the Olympic Council of Ireland offered this insightful comment: “Rory certainly has one hell of an arm on him!” We assume he was drunk.

Now I don’t know about you, but whenever I think of javelins, the only mental picture I get is that scene from 999 years ago when some schoolkid slipped and fell on a javelin. That was pretty hardcore.

Benchmark

Every so often a footballer comes along and changes the way we think about WAGs and callous promiscuity. Ashley Cole tried his hand using self-humiliation, and we ran with it for a bit. Jermain Defoe dedicated most of 2007 to the pursuit of blow-up chests and fire-damaged faces. Now though, an unlikely contender has stepped up and shown these amateurs how it’s done. You see, Aston Villa’s Gabriel Agbonlahor has netted an astonishing hat-trick / bagged a historic treble (delete cheap pun as appropriate) by having three braindead lovers on the go at the same time and heroically getting them all pregnant. I’m genuinely pretty impressed.

Ever the professional, Villa’s young swordsman convinced two of the girls to have abortions, but unfortunately for his bachelor lifestyle, the third followed through and spat out Gabriel Agbonlahor Junior several months ago in June. An unnamed homeboy of Agbonlahor glibly rapped: “Gabby’s so arrogant he thought by telling the girls a string of lies he could keep all his balls in the air at once, and nobody would find out the truth. But mother nature finally blew the whistle!”

The quagmire began with his teenage sweetheart Sophie Smith, who was at school with Agbonlahor and started dating him in 2003 when he was an unknown 17-year-old in Villa’s youth squad. She’s, er, not exactly a looker, but was apparently “head over heels in love,” according to a nameless gal pal, and subsequently moved in with Agbonlahor’s family in Sutton Coldfield.

She has standardly come out in the press and slagged off the man’s performance between the sheets: “he was pretty average in bed and very selfish as a lover, a real ‘wham bam, thank-you ma’am’ bloke who only knew one position and fell asleep immediately afterwards.” Christ, can someone get these girls a new copywriter, it’s getting pretty boring reading the same cliches. At least next time some tart does a kiss-and-tell can we get them to use the phrase ‘needle-dick?’

So, just a year after moving Sophie in, Agbonlahor met his second lady friend, a Miss Elizabeth Wheeler, on a 2006 lads’ holiday in Greece and obviously began throwing shots into her on the side. Not literally of course, if we are to believe Sophie’s harsh assessment of his sexual adventure. Just four months later then he also started dating his third lucky lady, Tia Hithersay, who is literally the perfect combination: an air stewardess and a glamour model.

The bubble only started to burst later in the year though, after Agbonlahor had successfully juggled all three for an impressive period of time; his ‘main squeeze’ Sophie found incriminating text messages on his phone from tarty third-choice Tia. His response? Demonstrating a level of expertise that betrays his young age, he told the distraught Sophie that Tia was just a ‘gold-digger.’ There’s a lesson here kids; if in doubt, just quote urban song titles until the bird in question shuts her mouth. The ever-trusting Sophie though was wise to his game, and subsequently rang Tia demanding to know why she was sending him text messages at all.

It was now Tia’s turn to get up in Agbonlahor’s grill about being cheated on, but again he played dumb and insisted that his live-in girlfriend Sophie was merely a ‘crazy bitch’ who couldn’t accept that their relationship had ended months earlier. A nameless (but presumably not chest-less since this is the News of the World after all) gal pal of Tia’s gave us the lowdown: “Gabby’s not that good-looking, but he’s a real charmer and has never had any trouble attracting women. So he knew he could sweet-talk both girls into believing his lies. He told Sophie his training schedule was so busy he didn’t have time to see anyone else, and as Tia was constantly traveling between her Derby home and London, she wasn’t around in Birmingham to see what he was really up to.”

All this time, neither of them knew he was also still seeing this Elizabeth character a couple of times a week, but his three-timing secret was eventually discovered in December that year when Sophie (once again) found text messages of an illicit nature. Here’s where Agbonlahor drops the ball though: he used the same excuse as before to Sophie, claiming this Elizabeth girl was just a football groupie, who was only interested in his cash.

The story then takes a dramatic leap forward five months to May 2007, when Tia discovered she was six weeks’ pregnant. She then reportedly got a phone call from Sophie, who not only told her the big news that she too was also pregnant, but also that they were both being taken for an additional ride as Agbonlahor was playing hide the salami with Elizabeth too. It’s like the plot to a terrible American soap, only set in Birmingham and Derby, and with four brutally ugly brain donors as the main protagonists.

According to busty Tia, Agbonlahor wasn’t too supportive when she told him she was pregnant, uttering the following understanding summary of the difficult position she found herself in: “Do what you like but you’ll be on your own and end up just another girl with a footballer’s baby.” Class Gabby, class. Generously though he did cough up £2000 for Tia’s private abortion, while sensitively making live-in girlfriend Sophie pay for her own at a Birmingham clinic.

While the other two were whinging, Agbonlahor did the sensible thing and just continued seeing Elizabeth, but amazingly two months later news broke that she too was up the duff. Hilariously he got the phone-call, not only with Sophie in the driveway to see if he’d changed his ways, but also with Tia actually still in his bed upstairs having just had a one-night stand! The man is basically James Bond.

Bizarrely this whole story ends with Sophie and Tia now being best pals, while Elizabeth and Gabby Jr are shacked up in a nice little two-up, two-down in sunny Sutton Coldfield. As for Agbonlahor? Well he’s back out there ladies, so grab him while you can because as far as I can see he’s got the full package. Here’s how his supposed best friend generously describes him: “Gabby’s not exactly got a reputation for being caring or romantic…but amazingly he still somehow manages to charm women into bed with his sense of humour.”
Gabriel Agbonlahor, we salute you.

Welcome to the Zuck

I think it’s pretty safe to say that to enjoy a long-term relationship with Joe Cole you basically just need to be lobotomised. He is… how do I put this… a medical cretin, but in fiancée Carly Zucker he seems to have truly found a soul mate. As you can see from the above picture, Ms Zucker is apparently also a moron, parading around an Elvis quiff and a facial expression of such concentration that I doubt she could chew gum and still walk in a straight line. The Sun opened up their world famous hilarity locker today, suggesting that she looks like Violet Beauregarde out of Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Apparently everything purple just looks the same to them, the daft racists.

Anyway, the thing is, Zucker is actually very fit, and should no way be lumbered with someone as depressingly vacant as Joe Cole. A professional fitness instructor, she has basically a perfect body, and describes her intensely active life vividly enough to conjure up images of suppleness too blue for the workplace: “I normally aim to do four good fitness sessions a week and I keep them varied. So I run, do yoga, walk the dogs, I swim.” Even with the dodgy fashion-sense, I think I might love her.

Construction

There is currently quite a big to-do in the press about Liverpool’s former-captain-turned-substitute Steven Gerrard spending lots of wonga on adding what appears to be a gymnasium complex onto his £2million mansion in the Northern suburb/slum of Freshfield. Ever the wits, The Daily Facist xenophobically questioned whether any of those pesky asylum seekers were being hidden away in it. The Daily Express went for the slightly more obscure suggestion that it never would have been built if Princess Diana were still here, whatever that means. The Telegraph meanwhile simply voiced the presumably-more-intelligent-in-their-eyes conjecture that it has a different postcode to his house. Very reserved gentlemen; kudos as ever for rising above the use of humour as a rhetorical device.

Anyway, the quite brilliantly named Cecil Crossley, who lives across road from the site, had this whinge on behalf of the residents’ association: “I cannot begin to understand why anyone would want to build an eyesore like this in their back garden. It is not in keeping with the properties in this area. It’s like building an Asda supermarket in the middle of a beauty spot, but our objections were ignored.” The structure was designed by Liverpool-based DK Architects, and partner David Gilkes defended the style: “It is a matter of taste. It is a fairly contemporary building…there is a mixed bag of styles on that road. Most residents have been quite supportive.”

We can now exclusively lift the lid on the building’s true purpose however. For several months Alex Curran has been in training with Cristiano Ronaldo working towards a career as a professional tanner. However, while he is an advocate of the traditional au natural approach out under the sun, she is very much from the new school and thus favours tan-in-a-bottle treatments and over-priced spa booths. Now the result, as if you haven’t noticed, is that she has become radioactive, with a dangerous orange glow permanently emanating off her. Ever the pragmatist, Stevie G decided that enough was enough, and has actually had this bespoke containment chamber fashioned to keep Alex and her gaggle of giggling gal pals safely out of harm’s way. You heard it here first…

The Only Couple that Make the Rooneys Look Good

You might remember a little while ago we showed you just how little taste Andriy ‘Fat Paris Hilton’ Voronin and his chav-tastic wife Yulia have when it comes to clothes.

Well now she’s pregnant for the second time in ten months, which is obviously a sign of pure class. But thankfully this neither stops her from dressing like a magic eye picture, nor him like a muscle beach homosexual.

Well that’s about it really. It’s been a long day. In other news Chelsea have just prick-teased everyone all day about unveiling a new signing, only to reveal instead that Fat Lampard has signed a new contract. Whoop-de-fucking-do.

Jermaine Sure Can Pick Em!

There’s just something about the name Jermaine that conjures up an instant image that the owner is a moron. I’m not being racist, or class-ist, it’s just that all available empirical evidence confirms this. King of the Morons is obviously Jermain Defoe, but since he’s been disappointingly quiet recently, I’d like to take some time now to talk about one of his old pals, Jermaine Pennant. His previous conquests include blonde rent-a-rack Amii Grove, who discovered he’d cheated on her by watching his mansion’s CCTV footage, but to be honest, if you spell your first name in such a ridiculous way, what do you expect to happen? Now though the underwhelming winger is ticking another box on the wannabe-playboy sheet, by swapping a page-3 model for a soap actress; a Hollyoaks one at that.

Now Hollyoaks is renowned for attracting braindead and conceited bitches, so it’s no real surprise that to footballers, they have the same effect as a red rag to a bull. The one Jermaine went for goes by the name of Jennifer Metcalfe, and when she’s all nicely make-uped and photoshopped by magazines, she’s actually quite fit. She is however categorically an idiot, as evidenced by some comments uncovered by Wagsblog.com today. Now when most girls grow up they want to be gymnasts or vets; not our Jennifer though. She apparently knew that at heart she was destined to be a tarty piece of eye candy, and revealed today a long-term passion for vice: “I had ambitions, although they were misguided,” she explained. “I’ll always remember the look on my mum’s face when I declared: ‘When I grow up, I’m going to be a lap dancer.’ I assumed it was a glamorous job!”

She continued: “When I was 12 I watched Band Of Gold and decided I wanted to be a prostitute!” And just think, just over a decade later, her dream came true! Sorry no that’s harsh, being a part-time actress and lad’s mag model doesn’t make you a whore. Sleeping with a footballer because he’s famous, drives a Ferrari, owns a wardrobe worth more than half a million pounds, and buys you diamonds sure as hell does though.

Busy Hands on Tour

I don’t know how he’s done it but former Spurs hero Gary Lineker has landed himself basically the best life ever. On top of holding the honour of the joint-leading England goal-scorer of all-time, Lineker has managed to land himself not only a hot chick half his age, but also a working existence based purely on watching football and golf. As such, Lineker is currently sunning himself alongside La Senza lingerie model Danielle Bux over in Barbados, on the couple’s sixth holiday in the last ten months. It just isn’t fair.

The workshy couple are enjoying their third trip to Barbados this year, while they’ve also recently spent time away in Miami, Vienna and Rome. Even by yourself those six breaks would be alright, but the fact that he’s spending his time with such a fox only raises the man’s bastard rating. Controversially choosing a simple but classic swimsuit, Bux sidestepped the usual look-at-my-cans approach to beachwear currently favoured by celebrities around the world. Perhaps Nereida Gallardo should take a leaf out of her book, as the allergy to bikini material demonstrated by Cristiano Ronaldo’s ex over the last few weeks appears to be getting progressively worse; the Spanish scrumpet has descended from a preference for the tiny bikini to now no bikini at all …

No WAGs please, we’re British

Parents are great bastions of worldly knowledge. If it wasn’t for the sage advice of mine I would certainly not be the suave and sophisticated young man I am now. Footballers also have parents, and occasionally they too like to chip with pieces of advice, instead however using that fantastically personal medium of the press. Anyone who believes that Cristiano Ronaldo’s mum actually prefers to have her comments processed through The Sun, rather than just pick up the phone, when she wants to talk to her son needs to have their tubes tied to protect the future of humanity.

Anyway, the latest to chime in on their child’s career is Mrs. Richards, mother to Manchester City and England defender Micah Richards. She has quite reasonably banned her 19-year-old son from having a girlfriend, as she thinks he will be a target for wannabe WAGs that are just after his money. It’s probably quite sensible, but what’s the point in being a footballer if you can’t have the Page 3 / ex-Big Brother arm candy that goes with it? You don’t get paid more than 100k a week to date regular girls! You want a guarantee that you’re going to find artificially pert cans, zero hair below the scalp, and not even the semblance of a gag reflex.

Of course our Micah has already had his share of the sexual grot that only footballers get to enjoy. Just last year he was involved in a ‘roasting scandal,’ after mobile phone footage of him and a pal spit-roasting a very lucky lady in a hotel disabled toilet was leaked to the NOTW. One unnervingly moral friend of Richards told the press at the time: “Micah and his mate have been boasting about what they got up to with the girl, they think it is hilarious. You can tell they are both loving it…but you can't help thinking they are treating the girl like a piece of meat…they don't really care to be honest, it's just another girl.” Personally I think he was just jealous he wasn’t invited in to complete the air-lock.

This outlandish ban comes not long after Richards was actually linked with Coronation Street teenage tease Helen Flanagan, after the two shared drinks together at an industry circle-jerk in Manchester. She’s a pretty tight little package, so I hope for his sake he’s already managed to hang out the back of her before the chastity belt gets installed.

Mess Your Pants

I was starting to get a bit worried about Lionel Messi. He’s young, ridiculously talented and living in Barcelona, but doesn’t seem to have got the memo about the importance of having a piece of busty arm candy. Things appear to be on the up for him though as he is now reportedly dating fellow Argentine, Luciana Salazar, who was his country’s alleged mascot at the 2006 World Cup. Quite what this role exactly entailed is up for speculation, but if she wore the above jeweled-optical-illusion of a bikini then I’m sure no-one really thought to ask.
He’s not really a looker, but since when has that been important to potential WAGs? The feeling that comes from seeing the likes of Ribery and Tevez with any women other than burn victims is a depression that will never end. Cast aside homoerotic thought of Freddie Ljundberg and David Beckham though, because apparently, being ‘not really a looker’ is enough for Argentine model agencies, as The Spoiler have helpfully provided us with some snaps from Messi’s forthcoming underwear posters for Lody pants. Presumably Lody are targeting the blind.

Six years his senior, Little Lio will undoubtedly learn a few things from Ms Salazar, not least the meaning of the phrase “you don’t have to look at the mantle-piece while you’re stoking the fire.” No, that’s harsh actually, do a slightly more expansive internet search and you’ll definitely find evidence that she’s actually quite hot. Unfortunately most of those pictures are now blocked by the office SafeSearch.

Sloppy Seconds

Part of the attraction of Nereida Gallardo is that she just has that face of experience. You know what I’m talking about so don’t be shy to think it. There’s something in her eyes and the way she carries herself that manifests bareback sexuality, and just screams an open-mindedness that the gag reflex isn’t a locked door but a wondrous lost city waiting to be discovered. However, the oft-forgotten flipside to this coin of sexual discovery is the implicit acceptance that quite a few men have been, you know, there before you. It’s rare, for example, to find a virgin who can do that cool thing with her kegal muscles. Too graphic for a Monday?

So Ms Gallardo then, she’s a model with amazing cans who’s hot in a slutty way. In other words, she’s a magnet to footballers, so it was only a matter of time before it came out that Cristiano wasn’t the first to (insert own pun about scoring / hitting the back of her net etc). So who was the lucky player then I hear you shout. None other than part-time female impersonator, and Euro 2008 winner, Sergio Ramos! A Real Madrid defender then, a fact that might cause problems should Ronaldo’s inevitable move to the Spanish giants go ahead.

One of the News of the World’s endless stream of anonymous tipsters had this revelation: “Cristiano doesn't know Nereida’s already slept with one of Real Madrid's top players. He's a jealous guy and she's kept it a secret from him because it's something in her past. Sergio's a bit of a joker and the last thing she wants is him welcoming Cristiano to Madrid by announcing he's already tackled his girlfriend.” Does anyone else think that a Ronaldo vs Ramos fist-fight would literally be the most pathetically embarrassing ‘brawl’ in the history of the world? The ‘duel’ would surely end as soon as someone’s hair got messed up.

Gallardo reportedly had a brief sojourn with Senor Ramos last November, just weeks before Ronaldo first slimed his paw into her honey-pot. The pair met in Madrid hotspot Joy Eslava, and the aforementioned nameless gal pal accurately described events thusly: “Sergio was there with two friends, and they and Nereida's mates all ended up back at his house. Sergio was all over Nereida and ended up leading her by the hand into his bedroom. Nereida didn't go into details afterwards, but she made it clear to all her friends that they didn't talk about football or count sheep!” What a delightfully glib description; impressive turn of phrase there on the spot, I would very much like to meet this faceless modern day Jonathan Swift.

Apparently the pair have since stayed close friends, as is Sergio’s caring way with the chicas: “Sergio rang her to wish her all the best when he heard she was going out with Cristiano,” continued the expert source, “they've chatted a couple of times on the internet,” concluded the pal helpfully. Is there any real truth to this rumour? It’s hard to say, but it sure is fun stirring everything around Cristiano at the moment. Thing is even if it is true, ultimately it’d be quite hypocritical of him to get shirty with her over this given the succession of tarts he’s left in his wake. Not that he’d care though.

Lady Palm And Her Five Lovely Daughters

Congratulations to Cheryl Cole because today she was voted the UK’s favourite fantasy body in a YouGov poll. Now, I’m not really sure who or what YouGov is, but they seem to do some sterling work really tackling the hard-hitting issues that affect a lot of our lives. Also, just what exactly does ‘favourite fantasy body’ mean? It seems to suggest the body you fantastise most over, rather than the body you’d most like, but I guess you can’t really go on streets asking random people who they like to wank over most frequently. People tend to punch you when you ask them that. The impressively busty Dannii Minogue limped (no pun intended) over the line in second place, a good 4% behind the Girls Aloud sex kitten. Also featured high in the rankings were mutton-dressed-as-lamb scrubbers Nigella Lawson and Madonna, while clearly a few people were having a laugh by nominating Pukka Pies spokesgirl Lilly Allen. So here then are a couple of pictures of those splooge-tastic lady curves. Also please take some time to just soak up how much of a homosexual Ashley Cole looks in this photo below. Someone please set him on fire.