Famed actress, television presenter and all-round-it-girl, Nanette Newman praises me in the latest issue of Heat magazine.
Newman peppers her interview with adoration, saying how much she loves my work. Right from the top, she says that I am the one contemporary artist she admires: "I saw his last tour of the East End of London, his experiment with street-theatre, Endeavor," she says. "I'm looking at this guy, he's got two dogs at home, a beau, Dannii Minogue, Cherie Blair and Debra Messing on his back 24/7 and he's still able to do it. He's got the stamina to be up on the stage we call the world at large, he looks amazing and it's just really inspiring. And so I look at that and go, "Wow, I'm twenty two years old, what am I complaining about? I'd better get off my arse and do something interesting, too."
I'm glad I inspire her. I just hope she gets her own identity. Dannii was on the telephone to me this morning, telling me Nan had called her up in the middle of the night, begging to duet with her on a charity album to raise money for teens who can't afford dope, so smoke vegetable peelings instead. She's starting to remind me of that movie "Single White Female."
But hey, Nanette - twenty fucking two? More like seventy two, Madam! Who are you trying to fool? You may have been under the surgeon's life more times than I've had hot dinners, but you still look your age, you sanctimonious bint. I've seen "The Wrong Box" and it was vile. Just keep away from me. The only fairy you'll be getting your hands on is that dreadful washing-up liquid you used to promote. Oh yeah, they dropped you, didn't they. Yes, in favour of a big black man with a massive cock. I expect that'll be the next thing. You'll be blacking up and going for gender reassignment.
Imitation can sometimes be flattering. But not today.