Gold-digging? It’s a Trumped up charge……

Strolling passed the newsagents the other day, I noticed on the front of ‘Hello’ magazine a pic of their ‘event of the week’. That well-known big head, control freak and comb-over king, Donald Trump beamed out with all the light reflective value of the finest porcelain caps money can buy. There he is, looking slightly baggy with his latest gold digging drapeage, Melania Knauss on his arm, just after successfully negotiating their wedding day nuptials.

She looked young, vital, pert, drop-dead-gorgeous and as happy as a lottery winner. Well she would, wouldn’t she… she’s just hit the jackpot - and looking at her baggy, flabby, hold the gut in hubby Donald, she doesn’t have too much time to collect on the really big payout. If I were he, I wouldn’t make too many long-term investments. Judging by the photo – he’s a busted flush – even accounting for what looks like the colossal amount of nip and tuck stuff done on his boat. The photos also look like they’ve had a lot of stuff done to them before publication – and judicious PhotoShop eradication of lines, blemishes, imperfections, double chins and zits are evident for all to see.

He looks like a member of an eighties Soviet politburo – all shiny, like alabaster, all stretched out like a freshly inflated balloon. And then there’s the legendary coiffure hair job. It starts somewhere near his right ear, drops down a bit then flops up and over and over, like a breaking wave… right over the top of his head to finish up somewhere near his other ear.

Somehow, it defies gravity. Somehow, it defies breezes and sneezes. Somehow, for all Trump’s billions of dollars, he still looks an utter arse with a really bad comb-over. I wonder how many times he’s been to Chicago – the ‘windy’ city? Does he get a weather report on the strength of the wind before stepping out of Trump Towers in New York? What does his hair look like in the morning – does it just hang down one side of his head all the way down to his knees?

It really must by some sight to see – I hope the newly crowned Mrs Trump has got a strong stomach ….. but it can’t last, can it?

I reckon, sooner rather than later, she will echo the spirit of Trump’s recent TV success in ‘The Apprentice’ by saying "Donald – you’re fired!"

Arthur Miller – a dead man……..

Arthur Miller died last Friday. America’s greatest 20th Century playwright has parked his pen forever, in the little slot at the top of his desk.

Arthur was a bit of a genius apparently. Why? Because uber theatre critic Sheridan Morley says so, as well as virtually every other theatre tribute in Saturday’s papers.

Miller was ‘great’ because he wrote ‘The Crucible’ and ‘Death of a Salesman’ and ……………. not much else really. I’ve combed every other obit’ I could find – including the one in The Times, trying to find other plays in the Miller portfolio – all to very little avail. If Art’ had any nouse at all – he’d have done some follow up stuff, ‘Death of a Salesman – the Resurrection’ – ‘Death of a Salesman – but the Afterlife is a Whole New Selling Opportunity’ and ‘The Crucible Snooker Final’ comes to mind …..

I just don’t think he achieved his full potential. If you’re a genius – stuff comes easy. If you’re Mozart, you bang off The Marriage of Figaro before a lunchtime pint in a Saltzberg tavern. If you’re Shakespeare, Hamlet is knocked out on the back of a fag packet while Christopher Marlowe is at the bar ordering another foaming round of foaming ale and picking a fight with a local….

If you’re Arthur Miller however, you’re too busy shagging Marilyn Munroe to bother….

Maybe the obit headline should have read Arthur Miller – ‘Death of Failed (but Jammy) Man’