Oh, do be careful Peaches, you're about to drop your phone!
Now look what's happened; the bloody baby's fallen out of the buggy. How am I supposed to phone my friends, AND wheel this bloody thing at the same time?
Can someone help; my fingernails will get all scuffed. HELP.... PLEASE.... NANNY!
Poor Peaches; if Sir Bob had called her Brigid or Bernadette, maybe she'd be able to cope with the more mundane aspects of life.
Biog: Peaches has three sisters; Pixie, Fifi Trixibelle, and Heavenly Hiraani Tiger-Lily. She recently wed Mr Peaches No 2 (unfortunately she still has the name of Mr Peaches No 1 (Max) tattooed on her hand). The unceremoniously dumped child (above) is Astala Dylan Willow; his father (the current Mr Peaches) is Thomas Cohen, singer with some band called S.C.U.M.
'Peaches' is the daughter of Sir (Saint) Bob Geldof; Irish crooner, Stentorian fund-raiser, and all-round good egg.
It's not easy being a 'Celeb'. Oy vey!
19 comments:
What a vision of, er, well, what I mean to say is, um ... how lovely.
At the very least Astala Dylan Willow Wibble Moo Fribble de-Clomp Innit-Yeah will have photographic evidence that she was dropped on her head as a baby.
Life - it's a bit of a rat-trap, Peaches. I mean, Judy.
Nice, isn't she. And by the way, Astaladylanwillowthingy is a boy. He can be contacted at nappybucket@hotbum.com
Good grief, the poor little chap, and my apologies to him for the unwarranted assumption. Still, I'm sure that he'll have every opportunity to grow up into a fine, um, well, I mean to say, a well-balanced and happy young, er ... gosh, is that the time? Must dash.
Band called S.C.U.M. you say eh? Folk music or classical?
All the above comments made me chuckle - I have nothing to add m'lud.
Actually, now that I have consumed more coffee and steeled myself to look at the photograph for longer, I can't decide whether Miss Peaches is in the throes of a good hacking cough or a sudden childbirth ...
Seriously though, I'm doing the delicate young lady an injustice. Maybe she just innocently farted and followed through? Something like that's bound to take your mind off the stability of the old MacLaren buggy-and-contents.
I'd still give her one, though. I'm generous like that.
Does she come from Essex by any chance?
:D
This beats my mate who walked home from the shops, leaving her pram (avec bebe) outside the butchers...
Eejit, idiot, goofass.
A rose is a rose is a rose
Monty looks so regal!
And LOLOLOL! I think you pinned it there, Cro. Suddenly I feel like a great mother. Thanks for that. ;)
Oy vey, Oy vey, Oy vey!
I am cackhanded and stay away from prams. Poor Astala. Perhaps if he gets a chance to grow up, he can change his name to something else--like Bill or Don, you know something people can pronounce correctly at the first go, and know that he's a boy right off.
David Bowie's son Wowie Bowie now calls himself Duncan Jones; I wonder why?
Super post. You had me at the title. Very clever, sir!
I can only wonder why he wasn't strapped in . . . And if Thomas Cohen is related to the great Leonard.
Oh those darn phones. People need to put them down for a second!
What a fool. I much prefer the peaches on your neighbour's trees to this sorry specimen of motherhood.
Will no one think of the children? So many ridiculous names, so little time. And really, get off the phone and look after your baby!!
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