Tuesday, October 04, 2005


He can't be gay, he had a woman go back to his flat and everything. And she didn't even know who he was, in common with more people than Robbie might think:

"It happened with this girl a few months ago. It was in America and not everyone there knows my face."

We love this apparent attempt to try and suggest modest, mainly for the way it falls on its arse. The hanging implication that all of America knows his name and voice, but there's a few people who might not be able to put a face to the crazy guy they hear about all the time is a wonderful piece of showing-off. It might have been more honest to say "America, where hardly anyone has heard of me and those that do would have to think for a minute to say who or what I am" - and would have the added bonus of making America sound like a wonderful place to be. For us. But it gets worse:

"The first time she came to my house, she was like 'Who are you?'

We're starting to suspect that this wasn't actually a date. We're guessing, in fact, that rather than being "like, who are you" her question would have been more "The survey won't take long, and first could I have your full name, please?"

I sat down and said 'I'm a singer' and put on the DVD of my Knebworth show, telling her: 'Well, have a look at this.'

A less conceited man might have waved a CD cover at her with a bashfull "I make the odd record...", but not our Rob. We bet he made her sit down and watch the whole thing, freezing the footage on shots of the crowd and making her count the numbers. She would finally have snuck out when he started to drift off working through the DVD extras muttering "more nights than Oasis... take that Noel..."

Incidently, for some reason, the 3AM girls seem to think this is "revealing your identity 'Bruce Wayne' style. No, us, neither, unless they mean "showing some stuff off to girls while a young boy mucks about in tights in your secret hideout.

In other self-absorbed shallow news, apparently Williams has got Jonathan Wilkes seeking out a country pile for him in Cheshire. Good god, he treats that man like a long suffering wife - although not, obviously, in the having sex with him sense. Apparently Williams quit Britain to avoid drink and drugs - neither of which are available anywhere near his current home in Los Angeles, of course, the famously dry county in California.

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