Should I make this a regular weekly thing, or do you think it’d get tedious? The man is prolific, to put it mildly, I suspect that it’d be possible to mine the archives and the present forever, without ever catching up with him.
This week, the “news” is that Mr “rejects knighthoods” Fry was seen arriving on the set of “The Brits Are Coming,” which stars Uma Thurman, to play *mysterious and slightly foreboding music* “an undisclosed religious character.” Well, we all know that Stephen has no religion, but plenty of character, and that he’s never been averse to donning a frock in the name of art. That said, he doesn’t look awfully thrilled, does he? The Daily Fail also said that it could be Stephen’s chance to “crack the States” and unless they mean it literally, they’re missing his transatlantic footprint completely. It’s a HEINOUS CRIME, to quote Canada’s “beloved” leader.
In the “news” last week, walking! Wimbledon! Lunch! Dressing up! Dressing down! More dressing than an undisclosed religious dress! Also, an asteroid.
Stephen Fry and husband Elliot Spencer enjoy romantic stroll in New York…
Stephen Fry dresses down for romantic New York lunch date with husband Elliott …
Stephen Fry enjoys Yeo’s Summer Party with husband Elliot Spencer…
Stephen Fry joins husband Elliot Spencer out at Wimbledon…
Stephen Fry dresses to impress for loved-up Wimbledon date with …
Poor dude, tabloids are so very boring. Shall we travel back in time a little and take a look at the love story? *soft focus fade in*
What is your greatest extravagance? My husband. I’m kidding, I’m kidding … books, pictures, and a compulsive need to have the latest version of every shiny smartphone, tablet, and other digital geegaw. And a degenerate reluctance to turn right on entering an airplane. source
Celestial recognition arrived on Twitter in the form of an asteroid being named after him, “The International Astronomical Union announced in its monthly bulletin that Minor Planet 5190 will now be called 5190 Fry.” (Or maybe Fryverley Hills 5190. Or Hawaii Fry 5190. Regardless, the sky should now be referred to as “the Fry”.)
And if that was enough “news” for you, here’s a selection of Mr Fry’s exquisitely sharp rants.
You low, corrosive lump of fecal horror! You maniac bastardly turd! I would rather drink stale urine from Norman Fowler’s arse-pit, than remain for one moment more in your defiling company! You’re filth! You’re cack! You’re the ooze of a burst boil! I abominate you, you towering mound of corrupted slime! Your every utterance is like the slithering hiss of a fat maggot in the putrid guts of a decomposing rat! Your face is fouler than the unwiped inner ring of Satan’s rectum!
The above can also be found below.