Sunday, 4 September 2011

'I always said I'd have a baby at 30,' Beyonce told me. It's her 30th today - I should have done the maths


Seeing Amanda Holden so happy again tonight was wonderful
Seeing Amanda Holden so happy again tonight was wonderful

TUESDAY, AUGUST 16

Dinner with Amanda Holden and her husband Chris at Soho House in West Hollywood.
As I gaily ordered large quantities of fine French wine for the table, Amanda quietly asked for a glass of water.
This, I know from personal experience, only ever happens if a) she’s deeply hungover or b) she’s pregnant.
‘Did you have a big one last night?’ I asked.
She smiled. ‘No.’
‘So…’
Her smile got bigger. ‘Are you..?’
Her face almost exploded with joy, and she flung her arms around me.
‘YEEEESSSSS!’
Few people know the full extent of thehell she and Chris went through earlier this year when she lost her baby son towards the end of the pregnancy. I do, and it was awful to seea close friend go through such a dreadfully painful experience.
Seeing her so happy again tonight was wonderful.


MONDAY, AUGUST 22

A Twitter direct message (the more intimate, private form of tweeting communication) popped up this morningfrom my all-time favourite pin-up, Cindy Crawford, saying: ‘Thanks for thinking of me, and would love to. My schedule is intense next few months, but will be in touch when timing is right. Thxs again. C.’
It took me ten long seconds to remember that I’d asked her for an interview, not a date.
A Twitter direct message (the more intimate, private form of tweeting communication) popped up this morning from my all-time favourite pin-up
A Twitter direct message (the more intimate, private form of tweeting communication) popped up this morning from my all-time favourite pin-up

TUESDAY, AUGUST 23

High drama at the TV studios where America’s Got Talent is filmed today, with a phalanx of police cars and fire engines racing inside minutes after I arrived for a live semi-final.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked a security guard, nervously.
‘Oh, someone’s sent anthrax to Craig Ferguson,’ came the reply.
‘WHAAATTT?’
Craig is an Irish late-night show star in America, and records his show just a few hundred feet away from AGT.
Further investigation revealed he’d been sent a letter, from overseas, packed with white powder, and severalof his staff had been directly exposed to it.
Coming just days after another late-night host, David Letterman, received death threats from Muslim extremists, nobody was taking this lightly.
As police studied the substance, I studied the internet to see what the symptoms are: nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, fever, severe diarrhoea, sore throat, chest discomfort, difficulty swallowing and swollen neck.
At least half of which I instantly began to experience.
The powder, thankfully, was declared harmless. But not before I’d hurriedly chosen music for my funeral. For the curious among you, this included Shouting For The Gunners by Tippa Irie, the BBC Test Match Special theme tune and Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life by Monty Python.


THURSDAY, AUGUST 25

Is there a more perfectly mannered manthan Stephen Fry? I only ask because Apple genius Steve Jobs stood downfrom running the company today, and Mr Fry happens to be one of his biggest fans.
So I tweeted him (it’s my preferred new booking tool), asking if he’d come on my CNN show and pay tribute to the great man.
Most famous people I know would eitherignore such a request or refer it to their agent or publicist. But not our Stephen. This was his full response: ‘Sorry, only just saw your tweet (via mad retweets of weird people, such is the way of Twitter) – I’m on NZ time, Hobbiting and have to be in bed, got 4.30am pick-up tomorrow (long make-up) – time zone madness is getting in the way, I fear. X.’
Given that I’ve previously berated theman in this very column for being obsessed with Twitter – ironic, and deeply hypocritical, given I’m now utterly obsessed with it myself – this has to be the most charmingly phrased ‘no’ I’ve ever received.


SUNDAY, AUGUST 28

If you love football, the proper version with the round ball obviously, then the most important TV network in America is the Fox Soccer Channel, which airs all the top British matches live.
Today, I was invited to be a pundit immediately after Arsenal’s game with Manchester United. Something I’d wanted to do for several years.
I just never imagined in my wildest nightmares that the moment would arrive seconds after my beloved Arsenal’s worst ever defeat – a humiliating 8-2 thrashing by our most bitter rivals.
It was like being asked to publicly comment in the immediate aftermath of seeing all your favourite pets eaten alive by a rabid pitbull.
To make matters considerably worse, I came off set, turned on my BlackBerry, signed into Twitter, and witnessed what I can only describe as a torture-level volume of vile, gloating tweets. I could hardly complain though, given that I’d have been gleefully dishing it out the other way round.
Perhaps the most painful of numerous agonising tweet-daggers came from Wayne Rooney, who had earlier scored a brilliant hat-trick.
Less then 20 minutes after the final whistle, he sent his one and only tweet of the day.
To me.
It read, in its entirety: ‘Hello mate, how r u?’
The thought of him sitting in that United dressing room, phone in hand, working out the single most distressing thing (and for sheer simplistic brutality, that tweet worked beautifully) he could say to me was too much to bear.
‘I’m suicidal, Shrek (my nickname for him),’ I replied, ‘thanks for asking.’
To cheer myself up, I took my three sons to watch Vinnie Jones’s local team, Hollywood All Stars, play in the Santa Monica cup final.
Vinnie manages the team, and watched by an amusing coterie of British fans including Freddie Flintoff – on his first-ever trip to LA – and ex-EastEnders star Daniella Westbrook, led them to a thumping 5-0 victory.
Highlights included Vinnie’s rousing half-time team-talk, which was like Mike Bassett on speed, him ‘mooning’ at his rival coach when the third goal went in, and then shouting, ‘Finish it, you know that’s what you’re good at’ to his star striker, who also happens to be Europe’s highest paid porn star.
‘Maybe I should go and manage Arsenal,’ exclaimed Vinnie, clutching his large trophy. ‘I know how to bring home the silverware!’


'I always said I'd have a baby at 30,' Beyonce said back in June. 'And I'm 29'
'I always said I'd have a baby at 30,' Beyonce said back in June. 'And I'm 29'

MONDAY, AUGUST 29

When I interviewed Beyoncé on June 27 in London, I asked her if she was ready to be a mum.
Her face lit up.
‘I always said I’d have a baby at 30,’ she said. ‘And I’m 29.’
‘So is a baby on the way?’ I persisted.
‘Only God knows,’ she replied.
Last night, at the MTV Video Music Awards, Beyoncé confirmed she is pregnant by her husband, Jay-Z.
And judging by the suspiciously large bump she proudly showed off, I’d lay good money that not only God knew back in June, but Beyoncé did too…


SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 4

Beyoncé is 30 today. I should have done the maths.

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