Friday, July 30, 2010
Kylie accuses Gaga
“I think there's an element of me in her,” said Kylie.
Possibly wishful thinking and hopefully not a statement of intent. If it came to a catfight, a crazy bitch like Gaga would pluck out Kylie’s pubic hair. Someone should invite the divas to a wigwam where they can share a peace pipe and inhale each other’s smoke. Those squaws need to become blood sisters before they start stealing each other’s boyfriends, which would lead to heinous atrocities.
Kylie’s outburst reminds me of a lowland silverback who claimed to be Mick Jagger’s role model. This is what he said about the rubber-lipped crooner:
“When I was performing back in ’63, I noticed that young Englishman in the audience, gaping at me night-after-night like a trout. Everything he later did on stage – the voice, the face, the strut – he took it all from me. And my bass player was a baboon who looked like Bill Wyman. The first time I saw ‘The Stones’ I thought they were a tribute act.”
But his females said he was lying, so we can’t take his word for it. Jagger has obviously been copying someone, but for all we know it could be his Latin master.
A tourist once asked me if I thought Tom Jones had been influenced by a gorilla.
“No,” I replied. “He was clearly influenced by the gospel, rock, folk, jazz and blues singers of his youth. But perhaps you meant to ask whether Tom Jones is genetically close to a gorilla.”
“Well is he?” asked the tourist.
“Let me put it this way,” I replied. “There are certain ancient genes in the human line which, for reasons not yet properly understood, are more fully expressed in particular individuals. Such persons are invariably hairy-chested men who exude a pungent sexuality that induces middle-aged women to throw their knickers at them.”
“Are you saying he smells like a gorilla?” asked the tourist.
“I don’t know what he smells like,” I said, “but it seems to bring out the female gorilla in women.”
In truth, the behaviour of all primates is driven by the urge to imitate. I often observed human kiddies pretending to be gorillas after I’d given a performance in the circus. I suspect many of the adults would have done so too if they hadn’t feared ridicule. The ape-impersonators in the remake of Planet of the Apes had a grand old time. Even Helena Bonham Carter, renowned for playing posh English roses, found the experience enlightening:
I had to go back and learn how to be still. I had to learn an economy of movement, but to be immensely focused. To stop intellectualizing and instead make everything physical and be present and alive in the moment, which is completely ape-like. Apes are more sensual and tactile than we are.
Humans sometimes ask me whether I found Helena attractive as an ape. I have to remind them that she played a chimpanzee, not a gorilla. If I were a male chimpanzee, I should imagine I’d want to pin her to the ground and put my tongue in her mouth.
Labels: Helena Bonham Carter, Kylie Minogue, Lady Gaga, Mick Jagger
Monday, January 25, 2010
A visit from Kylie?
I got a phone call from Kylie Minogue’s agent asking whether she could do anything for the gorillas of the Congo Basin.
“She could sit on top of a tree with a catapult and fire plum stones at any noisy parrots in the vicinity,” I suggested.
“Erm… we were thinking more along the lines of a donation and a photo opportunity,” replied the agent.
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “We’d be delighted to see her and I insist that she brings her boyfriend along. It’s been a while since my females had a man to play with.”
“Hmm,” pondered the agent, mulling it over in his head. “I’ll put your request to Miss Minogue and get back to you.”
“You do that,” I said. “And tell Kylie to ring back herself so we know we’re not being hoaxed by a hoaxer.”
The boyfriend in question is a Spanish model called Andres Valencoso, a mere ten years younger than Kylie. She shouldn’t worry about lending him to my females, because he’s told Hello magazine that he’s in love – with Kylie, one would hope. Call me a sentimental ape, but I’ve always believed that a man who’s in love can be trusted not to fool around. Even if my females did manage to excite him, he’d probably close his eyes and think of Kylie, which wouldn’t be cheating in the true sense of the word.
Kylie herself must be continually fighting the temptation to stray. Her waifish figure seems to bring out the beast in a certain type of man, and it's undoubtedly swollen her male fan base. In all honesty, she’s not the shape of woman that we gorillas admire. There’s simply not enough meat on her, and her posterior lacks that all important quality of squeezability.
This has no bearing on our appreciation of her music, of course. My favourite song of hers is Can’t get you out of my head, or “La-la-la, la-la, la-la-la” as it’s known in the jungle. Did you know that those “la-la’s” spell out the letters O-I-W in Morse code? Kylie has admitted that it's an acronym for “Ollie Is Wonderful”, a reference to her beloved Great Dane.
A lot of men are surprised (and possibly envious) of how fond women can be of big hairy animals. Back in my circus days, the ringmaster resented the attention I got from the all-girl acrobat team.
“How come they’re always fussing over you and stroking your fur and calling you ‘darling’?” he asked. “Anyone would think you were their Sugar Daddy or something.”
I eyed him archly before replying as follows: “It’s called affection, Ringmaster. It’s how women respond when you treat them kindly and aren’t obsessed with getting in their pants. I hope you will experience it yourself one day.”
He grunted like an ox and stomped off.
Such reminiscences make me all the more eager to receive Kylie in the Congo. It doesn’t bother me at all that she’s jumping on the gorilla bandwagon, following in the footsteps of Sigourney Weaver, Daryl Hannah and other damsels of note. My bandwagon is sturdy enough to bear the weight of a dozen Kylies.
Labels: Great Dane, Kylie Minogue, Morse code, waifish figure
