HAMPSTER SAVED IN  LORRY HORROR The Sun A Rupert Murdoch Enterprise 14 November 2000 20:35:46 National Highway M1, northbound Northampton, UK

Caroline Bell impersonates Doris Day

Having survived a harrowing escapade of driving from
London's Waterloo train station directly through the
heart of London, learning how to drive on the left
side of the road, navigate round-abouts, make right 
hand turns across traffic, read the map, follow
road and street signs, yield for pedestrians, 
avoid double decker busses and kamakazi taxis,
heeding Lillian's directional information and Lydia's
eagle-eyed recitation of street signs, we made it
to the north side of the city and snaked our
way onto highway M1, the route to Nottingham, 125 
miles north of London.

Faced with a now tranquil 2 hour drive, Lillian begins
to read some of the days news from THE TIMES (www.thetimes.co.uk):

BUSH SCENTS VICTORY AFTER RECOUNT VETO

FUEL PROTESTORS GO THE LAST MILE - ON FOOT

AS A MATTER OF FACT, MODERN ART IS A LOAD OF ...
Dateline: Antwerp. At Antwerp's Museum of Contemporary 
Art, a gaggle of people is staring at a brown substance rotating
slowly on a silver plate - something that looks and smells,
suspiciously like human excrement. These are however no ordinary
faeces.  Produced by 'Cloaca', a machine that mimics the human
digestive system and expels the inevitable end-product, this
is some of the hottest property the world of Belgian modern art.
If you are interested in becoming a collector, a lump will set
you back about 600 quid.

Named after the ancient Roman sewer system and created by
Belgian artist Wim Delvoye, 'Cloaca' eats through a gaping funnel
twice daily. The food is prepared by a caterer and tends to be
of high quality. A little Coca-Cola and a small quantity of
alcohol oil the process. The machine is admirably regular -
at 1:15 each day.

The exhibition also includes tiles printed from the faeces and
"Anal Kisses", prints Delvoye makes by his anus in lipstick
on stationery from luxury hotels.

Mr. Delvoye says he was inspired by films with wierd mechanical
devices such as Chaplin's "Modern Times" and "Willy Wonka
and the Chocolate Factory". He says, "I fantasised for years 
about building this enormous machine which just makes shit...
the work is universal, you can go to China or Timbuktu and
say 'This is a shit machine' and everyone understands shit."

The modern art world has reacted with measured interest. Matthew
Collings, a critic, believes 'Cloaca' is, indeed, a work of art,
"although, personally, I think Delvoye's a muppet."
 

BRAWL LEFT TV HOPEFUL WITH STARS IN HER EYES
Fifteen minutes of fame on the television talent show 'Stars in
Their Eyes' caused a woman months of grief, she claimed yesterday.
Caroline Bell's impersonation of Doris Day ended in a public brawl
with her neighbor, Julie Seeley. After charges of common assault
were withdrawn yesterday, Mrs. Bell, 34, said that her appearance
on the show in May, "has ruined my life!"

"Before I went on the show, I lived a normal peaceful life in a 
nice street with good neighbours. But everything changed because
people couldn't handle the fact that I had done something different."
Mrs. Bell, who sang the 60's movie hit 'Move Over Darling', claimed
that one set of neighbours sent their children round to goad her.
She said, "They would stand there shouting: 'Tonight I'm going to
be f***ing Caroline Bell!'" - a version of the show's catchphrase 
contestants use to disclose whom they are going to be impersonating.
"We are having to watch our backs," she continued, "and we are visiting
a doctor for nervous conditions. But, I did get a lovely letter from
Doris Day, and I was thrilled to find we have an awful lot in common.
It was a lovely time, but I don't know if it was really worth it."

Magistrate's Court officials told that she and Mrs. Seeley, 35, had 
been involved in a confrontation at a shopping centre in August. 
Afterwards, the two women gave different versions of the events.
"I was coming out of the doctor's," Mrs. Bell said, "when Julie 
saw us and came over and started swearing and shouting and then
swung her shopping bag at my head. I was told, 'I'll give you
stars in your eyes!' and knocked to the ground."

Mrs. Seeley, a software technician, said: "There has been a lot
of bad feeling between us, but nothing to do with me being jealous -
that's ridiculous. I was very pleased for her." She accused Mrs.
Bell of picking a fight and hitting her on the nose. "There was
blood everywhere and I ended up slumped over the bonnet of my
car. I lashed out with my bag because that's all I had on me.
People who saw Caroline on TV would assume that she is all 
sweetness and light like the real Doris Day, but, recognize!
I know the REAL story!"

A spokesperson for Granada, which makes the programme, said that
it would be inappropriate for anyone there to comment.
 

WIFE TELLS OF HORROR ATTACK ON GEORGE HARRISON;
BEATLE ATTACKER TO BE HELD INDEFINITELY
Olivia Harrison, wife of former Beatle, George Harrison, spoke
yesterday of terrifying moments when a crazed attacker broke into
their isloated 120 room Gothic mansion and tried to kill them.

The attacker, Michael Abram, 34, claimed that he was possessed
by the former Beatle and had been sent by God to kill him. 
Abram has claimed temporary insanity. 

Mrs. Harrison told the court: "I told George that someone had
smashed windows and that someone was down there, and he jumped
out of bed and went to the gallery. While he was doing this,
I phoned the caretaker, but there was no answer. So I phoned
another member of the staff and told them to call the police
and then I did so myself." She said she saw her husband disappear
into a downstairs room, "Then I heard a man screaming at the
top of his lungs. I ran down, looked for a weapon and found
a brass poker. I hit the man on top of his head several times
and George was shouting 'get him, get him!' Then I was knocked
backwards to the ground. I tried to grab Abram by his testicles
but failed. There was blood on the carpet and on the walls
from George's stab wounds. George was screaming 'Hare Krishna,
Hare Krishna!' At this moment I realised we were
going to be murdered." The attack ended when police burst into
the house and restrained Abram.

Michael Abram was convinced that he was "the fifth Beatle" and
had been sent by God to kill Mr. Harrison. Abram has a history
of heroin abuse and was known as 'sheephead' or 'smackhead'. He
reportedly would stand on his balcony bellowing song lyrics at
4am, afraid that if he stayed inside, 'the witch on the wall or
the man in black' would get him. When he threatened to jump,
the neighbourhood children would shout 'Go on then!'. His mother,
Lynda Abram, spoke last night of how she lost her bright happy
son to schizophrenia and heroin addiction. 

Her son became obsessed with the Beatle's lyrics after borrowing
his mother's tapes. He said that Paul McCartney was the witch
in the wall, but then turned his attention to Mr. Harrison. 
"We were just chatting when he snapped his fingers and said, 
'I've got it! Paul McCartney's a witch, but he's dead and now
George Harrison's the boss.' He believed that Harrison was
possessing him," she concluded.

Ken Sanderson, chief executive of the St. Helens and Knowsley
Hospital, apologised to all the families involved in the 
incident, and added: "Procedures have been thoroughly reviewed
and changes deemed necessary have been made. Lessons have
already been learnt."
 

Needing a pit-stop we pull off at the Northampton
rest area, where we find a Burger King. Lydia and
Lillian get burgers and fries. I order a mortadella
cheese sandwich and a pot of tea. As we enjoy our 
moment of rest and food, a young blonde haired lad in a
Burger King outfit comes over to our table...
 

"You blokes from America? You look like americans to me."

"Yes, actually, we are."

"You know Slim Shady?"

"Sure!" says Lydia.

Recognize! I'm the REAL Slim Shady!" says the young guy.

I look at the lapel pin on his uniform, it says JACK EDSFORTH.
I look closer and can see that he's got a skinny, lankey Slim Shady 
look about him. He takes off his Burger King baseball cap and 
points to his head.

"Look at me hair," he says, "I got it cut and dyed, like
Eminem. I AM the REAL Slim Shady. Eminem's playing a concert
in London soon, and I'm going," he continues. "I got free 
tickets. I'm completly wonkers about 'im. One of me mates
got the tickets, but he knows I'm the REAL Slim Shady, so
he gave the tickets to me, and I'm goin'. Kick it to kerb;
I'll be there."

Now, I don't know much about Eminem or Slim Shady except for
what I've heard on the CD that Lydia keeps in her music case, 
along with Mandy Moore, NSYNC, Britney Spears, Hoku,
Weird Al Yankovic, Jil Sobule, 98 degrees, and the sound
track from 'Titanic'. I do know that Eminem is stamped with
'Parental Advisory: Explicit Content' and I also know that
one song is called 'My name is', another 'I'm f***ing Shady' 
another 'I just don't give a f***' and yet another 'Still don't 
give a f***'. So, I sort of get the idea.

Jack 'Slim Shady' Edsforth asks us if we like pub jokes. 

"Sure we do!" says Lillian.

"O.K." says Jack/Slim. "Three guys are sitting around in a
pub, having a pint and the first one says, 'I'll bet you
twenty quid I can get that hotty over there to give me 'er
phone number.' 

'O.K., yer on,' says the second guy, 'twenty quid.'

So the first guy walks over to the girl, kinda barmy like,
and asks 'er for 'er phone number. She whacks 'im upside the
beano." 

Here, Jack/Slim smacks himself in the head as a demonstration.

"Then," he continues, "he slinks back to 'is barstool. 

'Yer owe me twenty muppet!' says the second guy.

'You guys are wankers,' says the third guy. 'Ere, let me
show you how to do it. A bagful of Wilson's-washers says
I can get 'er phone number.'

'Butter,' say the other two, 'yer on, mate.'

The third guy walks over to the bird and tells her,
'I'll give you twenty pounds if you'll talk with me.'

'Sure why not,' she replies.

'Alright,' he says. 'Give me your phone number then?'
he asks.

''Ey toxic boy! 'ere you bonkers?' she says, and smacks him a 
good one, right in the johnnys. He crawls back to the barstool."

This time, Jack/Slim grabs his crotch and bends over in
simulated pain.

"'Well then,' says his mates, 'looks like you owe us a 
bag full of bobs!'

'Now lads, I'll show you who's the man around here,' says 
the second guy, 'and I'll do it for a couple'a soverigns,
to boot.'

'Oh, right.' they both tell him.

So he walks over to the girlshape and says, 'Say, I know my
mates didn't have much luck gettin' any information out of you
but their motherships are a bit daffy and they're still in their nappies.
I, on the other hand; I AM THE REAL Slim F***ing Shady, and I can 
prove it to you. Recognize!'

'Well, so what do you want?' she asks.

'Just yer phone number's all.' he says.

'Much! You muppet!' she replies, and holds out her hand so's
he can see her fingers. 'Don't you see the ring on my finger?
I'm a married woman.'"

"Get it?" says Jack/Slim, "the bird's a married woman!"