<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735</id><updated>2010-01-07T20:44:59.144Z</updated><title type='text'>IT'S ME DIARY</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/rss.xml'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-3596457491552020999</id><published>2009-12-29T13:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-29T14:02:49.764Z</updated><title type='text'>HERES TO 2010!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/NADINE:ALAN-724931.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/NADINE:ALAN-724750.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just back from Sunderland spending Christmas visting friends and family - wasnt it lovely having a white christmas, well it was a yellow christmas as i passed stockton on the motorway, something to do with the fumes i guess. Look, Im not a scientist but even i know when the snowmans carrot starts pulsating and glowing somethings wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I know its a few days early but thought i better wish you a Happy New Year now - i've got a few busy days ahead what with organising my New Years Eve party and taking my unwanted presents back to cash convertors. I love cash convertors, just not when i see my books and CDs in the window 2 for 1 hmmm! the ingratitude. Can you believe I actually got sent a joke book as a present - i'm a stand-up comedian thats what i do!!! Thats like sending Kerry Katona a kebab, a bit more thought please, I wouldnt have minded but the jokes were a bit on the tired side(Shut up you people saying that they would have fitted into my act perfectly!!) Jokes that start 'Two lesbians at a bus-stop....' is not really my kind of thing. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It looks like I've got a busy year ahead, and if you believe the Daily Star i'm going to be in the Celebrity Big Brother House, well, thats news to me but you never know i might just prepare an eviction outfit just in case, i might as well look good whilst im being booed and having excrement thrown at me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dont forget on New Years Day - you can hear me on Radio 2 with the gorgous Nadine Coyle between 14.00 and 17.00 on the Great British Songs of the Noughties (Adele and Paloma Faith pop in too)  - let my soothing voice ease away your hangover blues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!  THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT AND HAVE A HEALTHY AND PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alan x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-3596457491552020999?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3596457491552020999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3596457491552020999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/12/heres-to-2010.html' title='HERES TO 2010!!'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-7758144323420673539</id><published>2009-09-16T23:10:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T10:58:39.111+01:00</updated><title type='text'>TAKING A BREATHER -    (i wish)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/IMG_0061-767410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/IMG_0061-767260.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello all,&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To start with i hope you like my photo of a homophobic building I spotted in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Havent blogged for ages can't think why its not as if nothing has happened - its all been a bit crazy to be honest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turning on the lights at Blackpool was so much fun, f***ing freezing but fun. As we did my Radio2 show up along the front in a tram, i actually got 'blanket-envy' for a donkey. Yes, you heard he looked so snug with his nosebag of hay and brown thermal blanket that i wanted to creep underneath it and feel his donkey flesh against my shivering body. Sitting on the top deck Emma's lips turned blue and my teeth started chattering and as anyone whose seen my face knows thats a lot of teeth to be a chattering, I sounded like my nan getting through a packet of peanut brittle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But i do like Blackpool, where else can you buy fake dog poo, but not only fake dog poo, actual breeds of fake dog poo. Alsations, Poodles, Terriers!! You name it - i went for Great Dane and the nice lady in the shop knocked a pound off because she was a fan. Oh being a celebrity has its perks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there was the sad news that Friday/Sunday Night Project would not be returning with me and Justin. Yes it was sad news but we both felt we had taken it as far as it could go - it was an amazing show and what a great team who worked on it, but there comes a time in a mans life when you have to step away from the leotard and stilettoes and move on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway Chattyman is my new baby, God i love that show and the amazing guests that choose to come on it, to think its going to be back on in November (i've only just got over the last series!!!) makes me excited but a little bit nervous. Can we ever top the guests Black Eyed Peas, Kanye, Samuel L Jackson, Wossy, Brucie, Katy Perry, i wake up in a cold sweat sometimes thinking say we can only get Howard from the Halifax or one of the Lilt ladies on my sofa, but ive got to be strong. Everyone has been so positive, well, apart from one article in a popular newspaper, they said i was depressed about' Chattyman' i didnt mind this, it happens all the time but it was the accompanying photo. They had me clutching my head looking up at the sky miserable and dispondant. To be fair, i had just come out of a Starbucks and was ducking a rancid pigeon.  A note to that journalist it was the same day Chattyman had got recommissioned for not only a 2nd but a 3rd and 4th series I wasnt depressed at all, i just didnt want to be covered in bird poo, but i guess as i found out from that article you can be shat on in other ways too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are now looking for future guests and the names that are being confirmed are amazing (sorry Howard) but im not going to tell you, ive learnt my lesson from the Friday Night Project. I would reveal who was lined up and as soon as the names passed my lips they would either die or end up in rehab. I would end up with egg on my face and they ended up in the Betty Ford Clinic.  Rather them than me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for all the lovely tweets and i'll be seeing you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;alan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-7758144323420673539?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/7758144323420673539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/7758144323420673539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/09/taking-breather-i-wish.html' title='TAKING A BREATHER -    (i wish)'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-2423829723220605982</id><published>2009-07-13T22:08:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T10:55:14.545+01:00</updated><title type='text'>MANSON MAN ACTION</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/IMG_0029-747269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/IMG_0029-747121.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, hello everyone, it dawned on me today that I haven't blogged in ages, i've been tweeting like buggery, but i havent blogged so tonight im going to sit down, relax and do a good old blog.  (Sounds like im doing a shit to be honest).  At least with blogging you dont get arseholes replying, i am having some militant trannies tweeting me, they heard on my Radio 2 show that  I had said that i was worried about cycling through Gay Pride because i might end up with a Tranny in my basket. Quite harmless i thought but oh no, i am a 'tranny hater' according to these tweets. I'm not taking it too seriously, (noone else has) it was an off the cuff remark, besides Tranny in a basket just sounds like something you'd find in a Nandos. 'Tranny in a basket please - easy on the mayo'. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chattyman is going better than i had ever dreamed of, ratings are great, the guests are amazing Samuel L Jackson, Dawn French, Kanye West, Brucie, Pet Shop Boys have all graced my late aunts flat and this week i've got Jonathan Ross and Mickey Rourke - woohoo! I'm watching Angelheart now (like a good boy) researching ready for Rourke. The lovely Denise Van Outen is coming on too, she recently told 'Star' magazine that she fancied me, oh dear, how do i break it to her? She's going to be gutted! Better pop some lambrini in my globe so as to soften the blow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some guests alas havent made it on the show not for the want of trying  i was meant to do a sketch with Marilyn Manson but when i turned up at the hotel he was so twatted on absinthe (and the rest), he couldnt stand up straight let alone talk. None of the questions I asked him were usable (if he was to be believed his hobbies include pissing on children and necrophilia - hey dont knock it til you've tried it) so we left him to his own devices, mumbling to himself in the hotel foyer drinking a pint of Glade Plug-in. (you think im joking). He had a whole afternoon of interviews ahead of him - CHRIST!  I smiled to myself secretly hoping he was due on The Alan Titchmarch Show. 'On tonights show!  June Whitfield, Nick Berry and Marilyn Manson dressed as a Nazi wanking off a dog ' Well I'd tune in wouldnt you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we left the PR girl said ' could i mention his single on the show?' It was called 'Arma-Goddamn motherfucking Gedden'. as you can imagine 'Bleeding Love' it aint!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, off to bed, this blogging lark has been very theraputic and not even an irate tranny in sight. See ya al x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-2423829723220605982?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/2423829723220605982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/2423829723220605982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/07/angelheart.html' title='MANSON MAN ACTION'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-382473771377155725</id><published>2009-04-26T15:38:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T16:04:02.750+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FACE FOR RADIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/emmaandme-720515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/emmaandme-720051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright loves, Can i just say a big THANK YOU to everyone who phoned, texted, emailed me and emma yesterday on our first Radio show together - we were literally inundated. (my favourite was Annie the Cornish fishmonger cooking scallops!!!) For those of you who didn't know we were on Radio 2 between 6.00pm - 8.00pm Saturday night and will be every Saturday for the next year kickstarting your weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were very nervous at the beginning and yes they're were a few cock ups, Emma said 'Webcum' instead of 'Webcam' and i advised a woman to sniff nail polish remover to relieve the boredom of cleaning - there was me giggling away only to see the producer eyeballing me mouthing "no," making cut throat gestures. Alright alright, i get the message. Overall it was a triumph and all the people upstairs looked happy (although a little bit wet with perspiration) but happy nevertheless which is the main thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you would like to speak to me and Emma about what you're doing that Saturday night, hen nights, barbecues, bowling, bungee jumping - i dont care, just call me on the number below.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also if youre having a wardrobe malfunction let us know too, it doesnt have to be as dramatic as janet jacksons, no, you're tit doesnt have to have been whipped out by Justin Timberlake in a Working Men's Club, no just ring us up and me and emma will go through youre wardrobe and make you look pretty, oh so pretty. Watch out Gok, theres a new kid on the block. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;CALL ME NEXT SATURDAY BETWEEN 6 - 8PM on 0500 88291 or text 88291 or email me on &lt;a href="mailto:alan.carr@bbc.co.uk"&gt;alan.carr@bbc.co.uk&lt;/a&gt; and we'll make your weekend that little bit special.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to the BAFTAS now, oh to be a tv personality&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-382473771377155725?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/382473771377155725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/382473771377155725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/04/face-for-radio.html' title='FACE FOR RADIO'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-8797273451114045970</id><published>2009-04-21T19:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:10:39.903+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting there</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/gok2-716837.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/gok2-716796.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, had my first runthrough for my new chat show in a church hall and do you know what - it went really well. I know what you're thinking 'He's going to say that - he wants us to watch it' Ahh! Nothing gets past you. Call me an old luvvie but Im a superstitious old sod, if you have a good run-through it usually means that the proper show will be shite and vice versa. So expect me on the 7th june to walk into the furniture, forget my lines and drop all my props - just think Hollyoaks but on a sofa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dont forget im on Gok's Fashion Fix tonight at 8.00pm - huh! How can you improve on perfection?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-8797273451114045970?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/8797273451114045970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/8797273451114045970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/04/getting-there.html' title='Getting there'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-3176750707725524670</id><published>2009-04-12T20:19:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T20:55:36.050+01:00</updated><title type='text'>BANK HOLIDAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/regentspark-747447.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/regentspark-747407.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christ its boring, how drab are bank holidays. Went for a walk around Regents Park, saw a squirrel, thats about it really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had a nice bath, treated myself to a BathBomb from Lush, which was nice enough. Its always a hassle getting in my bath because its overlooked by my next door neighbours porch, theres been times when ive whipped my towel off and set off ScallyKarens intruder sensor. The sight of her and her rottweiler peering through the patio doors makes you want to have a wash at the best of times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must admit when it comes to batheing, you cant beat a bit of Radox, those floral bathbombs are nice and all that its just a ballache when you have unblock the plughole at the end, its so stuffed with roses, petals, oats, leaves you dont know whether to call in dynorod or get Alan Titchmarsh to bring his secateurs round. I might as well have a strip wash in a window box.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway Happy Easter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-3176750707725524670?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3176750707725524670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3176750707725524670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/04/bank-holiday.html' title='BANK HOLIDAY'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-1422564765850534843</id><published>2009-03-16T22:54:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-03-17T12:57:21.842Z</updated><title type='text'>Paul The Other One</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/BRAZIL-218-728828.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/BRAZIL-218-728518.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I stood in for Paul O'Grady today on his show, (its going to be shown on Easter Monday) and had a ball although the producers had decided to put explosive easter Eggs around the set that would explode whilst I was reading the letters from the Postbag. As you can imagine when they exploded I nearly had a heartattack and the audience laughed at my shock, then i could smell burning. An explosive easter egg had exploded so much that it had set one of pauls dolls on fire and her skirt was going up like a Christmas Tree. I was thinking shit, Paul leaves me for one day and I burn down his bloody set, (it could have been worse, i could have torched Buster). So once the doll and neighbouring photo of Joan Collins (it took years off her) had been extinguished the show could continue. Bloody Exploding Easter Eggs, if there had been Smarties inside it would have wiped out the front row.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cant believe ive been "spotted" at 'Christ the Redeemer' in Rio de Janeiro, its this weeks 'Hot Spot' in HEAT. God they have spies everywhere.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-1422564765850534843?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/1422564765850534843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/1422564765850534843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/03/paul-other-one.html' title='Paul The Other One'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-6759219730641147001</id><published>2009-03-13T13:19:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-03-13T13:22:26.365Z</updated><title type='text'>RED NOSE DAY 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Apprenticealan-734705.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Apprenticealan-734654.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dont forget to watch Comic relief tonight - am hosting live with Fern from 10.30 (gulp) - we cant be as bad as Sam Fox and Mick Fleetwood - can we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-6759219730641147001?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6759219730641147001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6759219730641147001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/03/red-nose-day-2.html' title='RED NOSE DAY 2'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-6404630097243890795</id><published>2009-03-13T00:35:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-03-13T00:45:21.541Z</updated><title type='text'>RED NOSE DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/photo[1]-710151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/photo[1]-710145.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just watched 'Comic Relief Does The Apprentice'. I was so nervous, we had filmed for three and a half days last October and we didn't know what bits they were going to show. I had specifically told myself not to mince across that bridge in the opening credits but watching it, it seemed that my hips had gone the other way and were mincing even more furiously. It was less Apprentice more Americas next top model, well, if you squinted. Why hasnt anyone told me that i pull all those faces? Ive got the hardest working chins in show business, at one point i thought they were going to put a tyre around my head. God its grim seeing yourself on the telly anyway at least ive got my rapping to fall back on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-6404630097243890795?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6404630097243890795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6404630097243890795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/03/red-nose-day.html' title='RED NOSE DAY'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-6544330867068969495</id><published>2009-02-20T00:39:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-20T01:05:21.309Z</updated><title type='text'>Boa Dia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/BRAZIL-149-795760.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/BRAZIL-149-795416.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Watcha!Boa Dia that's Brazilian for hello, sorry i havent been blogging but have been in Rio De Janiero on holiday and it was amazing. I've always wanted to go there and I finally thought 'Sod it' im going to go. When you're homosexual and you tell people that you're going to Rio, people assume that you are going as a sex tourist. This wasn't the case, I was going with my elderly neighbour Mrs. Bhabuta and with her needing 24 hour attention the chances of me disappearing up Sugarloaf mountain were very slim. The weather was oppressive and even though she is on a respirator she still wanted to go up the Christ and take in the view which is doubly strange because she's a Muslim with glucoma but anyway if Mohommed wont go to the mountain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went down the gay beach, (i told Mrs. Bhabuta i'd popped out for a loaf), it really was a sight to behold. Men in the skimpiest briefs and muscles like you'd never seen, i had a great view, especially through the peepholes i'd drilled in my windbreaker. You've got to go love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boa Noche - thats good night in Brazil. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S They actually speak Portugese not Spanish so for the first few days I was greeting everyone with Ola and saying Adios with a wave of my Daily Star which of course gave the game away that I was actually a tourist and not a local. Damn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-6544330867068969495?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6544330867068969495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6544330867068969495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/02/boa-dia.html' title='Boa Dia'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-5471711435199968742</id><published>2009-02-01T16:48:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-01T17:57:13.556Z</updated><title type='text'>GRACE JONES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Martin-Sheen-718257.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Martin-Sheen-717888.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Grace Jones!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I saw Grace Jones at the Roundhouse in Camden on Friday and she was amazing, she hulahooped her way through Slave to the Rhythm, now that doesn't happen everyday does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The designer Julian McDonald was there and said to me that we should go backstage to visit Grace as he had designed some of her stage outfits, initially I was against it as i hate those situations, standing there in their dressing room saying how great the show was, knowing full well they want to go home, put their feet up and have a cuppa, but i said 'Yes, ok, lets go'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a large crowd outside as you'd expect, and Julian minced straight to the front of the queue 'Its Julian and Alan Carr to see Grace'. i heard a growl 'five minutes' come from inside, and after the five minutes of small talk with the bodyguards the door was opened by Simon LeBon, i know, well random! Me and Julian go in, she obviously recognises Julian, being an international fashion designer and all but sadly not me 'Get out! Get out!' she screams (with tights on her head) she grabs my arm and shoves me out her dressing room and with a loud slam I am banished from Grace's inner circle - infront of the whole queue. Oh dear! Do you know though what I love her even more? What an anecdote, who else can say they've been manhandled by Grace Jones on a night out, well ok, quite a few, but it made my gist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm warning all you divas only Grace can do that, I'm seeing Tina Turner in March and if that bitch even as much as gives me a dirty look i'm going to.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont forget to watch me and JLC with Hollywood Legend Martin Sheen tonight on 4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-5471711435199968742?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/5471711435199968742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/5471711435199968742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/02/grace-jones.html' title='GRACE JONES'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-3407839484550385757</id><published>2009-01-21T18:17:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-21T18:53:28.177Z</updated><title type='text'>THIGHS THE LIMIT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/odds-and-sods-033-795405.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/odds-and-sods-033-794801.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello all, its not everyday that you get to dance on ice with Torvill and Dean and its not every day that you get to walk down the high street like you've shat yourself and had to ask a complete stranger to pick your wallet up off the floor because if you bend your legs you're going to follow through. Oh yes, my delight at dancing with Britains Number 1 ice skating stars had sadly turned to agony. I had been down to the show to interview the stars for 'MORE' and the chance had come up to dance with them and how could I say no. They had decided to put me in a canary skintight skating outfit for the photo, 'the colour is saffron' the costumier hissed, waggling his thimble at me, as I described to my agent the monstrosity that was clinging to my body (and genitals if i'm honest). The outfit was excruciating, i had a reinforced gusset, a body stocking with poppers and a jock strap, no wonder those male skaters grin as they lift up their partners, thats not professionalism that's ball-ache. It wasn't just downstairs that hurt, whilst i was skating around i must have used muscles that i hadn't used before because the rest of the week they've been really sore, i know i'm unfit but four days later, please. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got Anne Robinson on the Project tomorrow, hope shes not too mean to me. Alan, you are one tooth short of a grimace, you are the weakest link. Goodbye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want to see the pictures and the interviews with the dancing on ice stars buy MORE next week, go on i dare you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-3407839484550385757?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3407839484550385757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3407839484550385757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/01/thighs-limit.html' title='THIGHS THE LIMIT'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-6028415268471973382</id><published>2009-01-14T22:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-14T23:23:48.401Z</updated><title type='text'>SUNDAY NIGHT PROJECT NEWS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/New-York-NYE-169-709476.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/New-York-NYE-169-708966.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello blog, bored out of my tiny little mind. Washed up, mopped the kitchen floor, done my recycling, nothing on telly. I'm on a diet and am so trying desperately not to eat, you wouldn't believe. I was watching half tonne son the other night and just as I was going to grab another jaffa cake they homed in on his back boobs - not a pretty sight. Mine are a handful but they dont hang down that much, yes I admit once i did get the nipple caught in the zip of my bumbag but apart from that they've been no bother at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Been sorting out my New York photos, i went there for New Years Eve, and i sort of begrudge digital cameras, i preferred the old ones, when it was when you got back home that you realised how fat and pasty you were, and you'd have to look sheepish as the Boots photo technician handed them to you over the counter, smiling smuggly whilst thinking 'I bet you thought you looked so good in those lime green swimming trunks'. Oh no, now thanks to digital you can see how shite you look there and then, thanks isn't technology wonderful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just found out that the last remaining guests for The Sunday Night Project are Anne Robinson and Martin Sheen, so should be interesting to say the least. We've got Catherine Tate on tomorrow, we've already filmed a 'Celebrity Come Dine With Me' spoof with her and it was really funny, me and Justin host a japanese themed night and well, i'll let you find out for yourselves if we beat Catherines dinner party at ten o'clock on channel 4 this Sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-6028415268471973382?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6028415268471973382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6028415268471973382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/01/sunday-night-project-news.html' title='SUNDAY NIGHT PROJECT NEWS'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-3461106944484927556</id><published>2009-01-05T21:57:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-05T22:02:25.007Z</updated><title type='text'>Celebrity Big Brother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/elf-732965.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/elf-732606.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what's more disturbing LaToya Jackson's nose or Mutya's acrylics, they're huge. They're bigger than Verne, i hope they don't fall off, they could puncture the tyre of his shopmobility scooter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, i miss Christmas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-3461106944484927556?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3461106944484927556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/3461106944484927556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2009/01/celebrity-big-brother.html' title='Celebrity Big Brother'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-540812734276180426</id><published>2008-12-20T15:31:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-20T15:53:00.094Z</updated><title type='text'>LEGG AND PEGG</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/SimonPegg4-738878.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 105px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/SimonPegg4-738848.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Sunday Night Project was such a laugh last night, we had Simon Pegg hosting and it really was a joy. He was so funny and was a fan of the show, which made mine and Justins job so much better (the amount of times we've had to tell the hosts that me and Justin aren't lovers, and no were not thinking of having a civil ceremony!! - but if OK magazine paid enough money I'd do, it. I'm not proud. I'd open an Al-Queda training camp if the money was right). But not only was it a joy but I got to cross off my last wish from my 2008 wish list - to play Diana 'I'm just a girl from Blackburn' Vickers from X-Factor in a sketch. Simon played Eggnog as an Ewok and strangely, it worked. Justin makes a beautiful Alexandra, if you squint and put some lino over the tv screen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it me, or is it not very Christmassy this year? I didn't feel too full of Christmas Spirit, i went out for a drive to see the happy faces of all the shoppers - Christ I wish i'd never bothered. Miserable people scowling, pushing and shoving, then believe it or not I saw Dr. Legg (from Eastenders fame) standing alone outside a closed down 'Woolies' - i'm not too proud to tell you I nearly wept, it was such a heartwarming sight, two icons from yesteryear together, it was like Cliff Richard and Kiki Dee in 'Mistletoe and Wine'. I had to pull over and have a mulled wine, well, any excuse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-540812734276180426?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/540812734276180426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/540812734276180426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/12/legg-and-pegg.html' title='LEGG AND PEGG'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-7776049906594754981</id><published>2008-12-08T00:00:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-08T00:36:57.083Z</updated><title type='text'>APOLOGIES ALL ROUND</title><content type='html'>Hello All, Just a quick note to apologise to all the people who were offended by me 'dedicating' my award to Karen Matthews. For those of you who have enjoyed my comedy and seen my act over the last seven years you all would have got used to my tongue in cheek style and near the knuckle observations. Last night at the Comedy Awards was no exception, after being asked by a journalist why I hadn't dedicated the award to anyone or said anything controversial in my speech. I said 'it wasn't really my thing to be controversial ' but in a flash of inspiration I said 'I'll dedicate it to Karen Matthews'. The journalists in the room burst out laughing aware that&lt;br /&gt;my tongue couldn't have been further in my cheek, I went on to say that she was 'a gay icon' and that 'I would love to work with her'. Just to put the record straight I was being ironic, these aren't my real sentiments obviously. So apologies to everyone, i am so sorry if you are offended I was taking the piss but if you've seen me before you'll know that already. XXXX&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-7776049906594754981?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/7776049906594754981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/7776049906594754981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/12/apologies-all-round.html' title='APOLOGIES ALL ROUND'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-208919573566418336</id><published>2008-12-07T23:40:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-07T23:58:46.177Z</updated><title type='text'>NOTHING TO LAUGH ABOUT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/COMEDY-AWARD-2008-716035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 94px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/COMEDY-AWARD-2008-716032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello All, I won my second Comedy Award last night woohoo!!! Sorry about my speech, I didn't think I'd won so didn't have any speech prepared (as you all saw) i was genuinely shocked. Plus, I was all flustered, my car hadn't turned up so I had to arrive by bloody tube, serious, a tube ride dressed up like a dogs dinner on the Victoria line with a hen party is not really how I expected to make my entrance. Although Pam (the bride to be's Mum) helped me pick the chewing gum off the hem of my slacks, THANK YOU LOVE!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-208919573566418336?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/208919573566418336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/208919573566418336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/12/nothing-to-laugh-about.html' title='NOTHING TO LAUGH ABOUT'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-2087352981654083305</id><published>2008-12-07T22:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-07T23:31:45.427Z</updated><title type='text'>COOKALONG</title><content type='html'>Well, my tongue has only just recovered from Gordon Ramsey's Cookalong, for those who didn't see it, a man was there who makes the hottest curry in the world and he wasn't joking, it was like Korma flavoured Listerine, i've never sounded so butch, it basically destroyed my tastebuds which was probably a good thing after the monstrosity I cooked up and fed my friends (they're not speaking to me now).  I was so nervous  a) cooking a three course Indian meal b) live on telly with c) Gordon breathing down my neck, c'mon you'd be nervous too, plus they'd asked me not to mention any 'goings on' that have been in the papers recently, well as you can imagine my brain went into 'Gordon Tourettes', every thought I had was hanky panky related 'Tonight I'm making a Whorema, Korma sorry, Korma'.  However anxieties aside it was a success and Gordon was lovely and so was his wife Tana, she was a real sweetheart, and I say good luck to them both, i think the last few weeks for them have been a bit like my chicken madras - tough and hard to swallow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-2087352981654083305?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/2087352981654083305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/2087352981654083305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/12/cookalong.html' title='COOKALONG'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-6654216263486572340</id><published>2008-11-28T19:54:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-28T21:31:33.361Z</updated><title type='text'>DUBAI OR NOT DUBAI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/karen-matthews-751032.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/karen-matthews-750988.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its great to be back in Britain, well its not really but you feel you have to say that don't you? I've just come back from seven days in sunny Dubai, the weather was gorgous and the hotel was beautiful, me and my friend Michelle were having a wonderful time, well we were until we went down to the barbeque wednesday evening when the Waiter approached our table and asked, once he'd taken our orders, if we were russian. RUSSIAN!!!! Do I look bloody Russian? Brazilian, Spanish, Italian anything, even Croat would have been better than Russian. I was heartbroken and replied sharply 'I'm English'. The waiter oblivious to the offence continued with 'You are red and big'. 'Yes I am Red and Big, but that doesn't mean I'm Russian, God, i tell you if you ever need an incentive not to go for seconds there it was. We came to the conclusion that he had mistaken our burnt red bodies as vodka induced burst capilaries and our large bulbous limbs as a result of years of working in the fields of Kiev. Is it any wonder I drink?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isnt the news depressing? Just watched the Shannon Matthews case on BBC NEWS, the artists impression of the mum in court looks even worse than what she does in real life - something I didn't think possible, but yes, she looks bedraggled and don't even mention her roots. Girl needs a makeover, the 'artist' has done his best by keeping it simple sticking with sombre tones and muted hues rather than bright primary colours, but then again you can't polish a turd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-6654216263486572340?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6654216263486572340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/6654216263486572340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/11/dubai-or-not-dubai.html' title='DUBAI OR NOT DUBAI'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-1754692728287547207</id><published>2008-11-18T21:38:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-18T22:13:35.057Z</updated><title type='text'>VARIETY CLUB AWARDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Variety-Club-703765.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 98px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Variety-Club-703763.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello all, am very pleased to say that I won an award at Sundays Variety Club Awards, I won Best Television Presenter which really did surprise me as I thought I was up for Best Comedy Act, so when David Walliams called out my name i was genuinely surprised. Even in his speech when he said 'Not only is this man very funny, he's also very funny to look at' it still didn't click, i thought it might be Sir Trevor McDonald. Anyway its lovely to get an award, and its very gracious of The Variety Club to nominate me. I'm dead chuffed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be honest, I was feeling a bit rough at the ceremony, I'd gone to visit a friend who was working in Lapland, no not the one near the North Pole, the one just off the A21, near Royal Tonbridge Wells. It was lovely to see the children enjoying the experience, the reindeers, fake snow, etc however I was put out when a woman came up to me and called me a 'pervert' which came as a complete shock although thinking about it, i was standing alone by the gingerbread cottage waiting for my friend to finish his shift. It really shocked me to be honest, and I didn't know what to do, so I put my cock away and moved over to Santas Grotto. JOKE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously can i just say a big hello to everyone who I met in Royal Tonbridge Well's premier Nightspot 'Beluga'. It really was an experience, but to be honest I don't think I'll be back to Royal Tonbridge Wells. Looking at some of the clientele in Beluga, i think the 'Royal' was pushing it a bit and to be brutally honest quite misleading, in the same way 'Great' Yarmouth and the shop 'Bon' Marche is. I've a good mind to phone Watchdog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-1754692728287547207?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/1754692728287547207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/1754692728287547207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/11/variety-club-awards.html' title='VARIETY CLUB AWARDS'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-5671078294987099743</id><published>2008-11-14T10:42:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-14T10:49:41.924Z</updated><title type='text'>COMEDY AWARDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Comedy-Award-771979.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Comedy-Award-771936.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well done to me, I've just woken up to find out that I have been nominated for not one award but THREE at the British Comedy Awards. I would ask all my fans to phone in and vote for me, but there isn't a number, never mind wish me luck. I'm off to prepare an outfit and practice my poker face for when Harry Hill's Comedy Burp wins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-5671078294987099743?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/5671078294987099743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/5671078294987099743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/11/comedy-awards.html' title='COMEDY AWARDS'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-2553698578814953732</id><published>2008-11-09T20:04:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:33:01.173Z</updated><title type='text'>X Factor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Daniels-hair-771683.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Daniels-hair-771638.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyones asking the question 'Why was Laura voted off?' well i'm asking 'Why has Daniel's hair gone aubergine?' I couldn't take my eyes off it, its the same colour I want for my downstairs toilet, there I was with my Dulux colour chart pressed against the screen (for those of you who give a shit its 'Autumn musk') but anyway, please dannii stop it getting any redder, by the final he'll look like Ronald Mcdonald. I half expected him to turn around at the end of the song and go 'Cos i'm worth it!' Sort it out!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-2553698578814953732?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/2553698578814953732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/2553698578814953732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/11/x-factor.html' title='X Factor'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-7744684582897288617</id><published>2008-10-28T22:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-28T22:56:12.906Z</updated><title type='text'>BOOK SALES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Ipod-photos-055-749353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Ipod-photos-055-749329.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gawd blind me, i've sold over 45,000 books. Thanks everyone!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-7744684582897288617?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/7744684582897288617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/7744684582897288617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/10/book-sales.html' title='BOOK SALES'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-8104482597803140624</id><published>2008-10-28T22:31:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-28T22:50:28.840Z</updated><title type='text'>COMMON SCENTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Ipod-photos-056-713052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/Ipod-photos-056-713037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello everyone, sorry I haven't been blogging, i've been dead busy with my book signings. I've been Newcastle, Glasgow, Asda Headquarters, Leeds, Manchester you name it I've prostitued myself there. Thank you for all the people who've turned up, I appreciate it, and also for all the presents. Thankfully there wasn't a dogging video to sign this time. In Bluewater someone had brought me 'British Dogging 2' video  (i've sadly never seen the first one) and the cheeky sods had put 'Its me Alan' in a tipex speech bubble from a fat bespectacled man who just happened to be having his end away with a blonde woman with awful roots on a car bonnet. Charming, I wont tell you what was hanging out of his stone wash jeans, anyway, the wine and beauty products that you very kindly brought along are a nice touch although most of it had to be confiscated at the airport for security because of the crappy 100ml rule, (God, I hate Al Queda) yes they looked at my lemon and lime foot scrub and peppermint exfoliater as if it was the ingredients for a dirty bomb. I was going to swallow it like a drugs mule, but I guessed by the time it came out the other end, I think the lavender and musk scented candle would have lost its effect. Never mind. It was nice while it lasted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-8104482597803140624?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/8104482597803140624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/8104482597803140624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/10/common-scents.html' title='COMMON SCENTS'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440532160443708735.post-4558998745714934399</id><published>2008-10-20T20:40:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T21:10:35.622+01:00</updated><title type='text'>CHELTENHAM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/pete-wentz-and-me-786653.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.alancarr.net/diary/uploaded_images/pete-wentz-and-me-786610.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just got back from The Times Cheltenham Literary Festival, and I must say I had a great time, I can't tell you what the best bit was, whether it was the sell out 900+ audience or sharing a vol au vent with Jilly Cooper in 'The Writers Room'. Yes, haters I am classed as a 'Writer' now, I can now legitimately be mentioned in the same breath as Maeve Binchey and Jackie Collins, which I think I am anyway, what with some of the looks I get walking up Holloway Road in my manhole cover sized sunglasses and foxfur pashmina. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interviewed Pete Wentz from Falloutboy today and was pleasantly surprised, he was lovely and intelligent, I know I shouldn't sound surprised but some of these bands you meet, lets just say you wouldn't see them in Dictionary Corner, but what a surprise. There have been reports that he is bisexual but can I say for the record he never made a move on me even though I was in close proximity to him and i was alone in the room with him at all times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8440532160443708735-4558998745714934399?l=www.alancarr.net%2Fdiary' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/4558998745714934399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8440532160443708735/posts/default/4558998745714934399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.alancarr.net/diary/2008/10/cheltenham.html' title='CHELTENHAM'/><author><name>Alan Carr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17937306279899299663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05765105151898016487'/></author></entry></feed>