The Daily Tonic: The News That’s Unfit To Print

What’s the difference between Cilla Black and the Candyman? We only have to say Cilla’s name once before she starts appearing absolutely everywhere we turn.

Someone who did work experience at the London Television Studios when Blind Date was filming remembers being briefed by the other runners before they started. The three important rules: Don’t look at Cilla, don’t talk to Cilla – and for god’s sake don’t touch Cilla.

The only department to complain about Cilla more than the runners was catering. For not only did Cilla snatch up every last morsel they put out to take home with her, she stole all the platters as well, meaning they were soon left with with nothing to put any food on.

To counterbalance Cilla’s legendary kleptomania, today we want to hear stories of celebrities being generous. Not with their time. Not with their kind words. We’re talking cold, hard cash.

Today’s Question: What is the greatest showing of celebrity largesse you’ve ever seen? (It doesn’t necessarily need to be on big ticket items – any examples of them splashing the cash are good by us.)

Send your stories of stars making it rain to hello@popbitch.com and we’ll send some digital PB goodies to our favourites.

O writes:
“About a decade or so ago I was arriving at Jet Black nightclub in the early hours of the morning when out stumbles former children’s TV presenter [REDACTED*]. He looked across at me and my friends as we got out of our taxi and shouted, “It’s time for the fucking 5 o’clock news, kids!” before swiftly falling over the railing outside the club.”

L writes:
“Lizzo was due to perform at the Warner Brits after-party this year but after downing a ton of tequila at the awards, performing was probably the furthest thing from her mind.

“Showing up a solid two/three hours late to the bash, Lizzo continued to get the free gargle into her. She then refused to get off the chair she was dancing on (with a glass of champagne in hand) and got fairly mouthy with Chiltern Firehouse’s security guards. After said encounter, she continued to dance on the chair until her leg went through it and she tumbled down like Madonna off those stairs.

“With a bruised behind and ego, she headed off into the night. But that wasn’t the end of her partying. She showed up to The Box 30 minutes later and continued to get sozzled to the early hours. What a champ.”

S writes:
“I worked for a few weeks at the Virgin Records label on the Harrow Road in the mid 80s. One day Boy George walked in asking if someone could help him out in the car park. I offered my services and walked outside with him. He pointed towards a small car parked outside the main entrance.

“Inside was Marilyn, who had parked about six inches away from the car next to him and couldn’t open his door to get out. George asked me to help him pick the car up by the rear bumper and shift it over so Marilyn could get out.

“I don’t know why Marilyn didn’t just reverse out and park it better – I assume he was just a shit driver. Anyway, they were both very friendly and grateful for my help.”

For the last few Sundays, we’ve put together audio rounds ripped from the tracklists of Steve Wright’s Sunday Love Songs. This Sunday, we’re going to get a little bit sexier.

Ten songs. Twenty points. One for each artist, one for each title.

[Here you go…]

Want to try a space simulator to learn the controls NASA use?
[Have at it]

Did the CIA write The Scorpions’ Wind Of Change?
[Listen on Spotify]

People are getting some pretty awful Covid-19 tattoos
[Take a look]