Happy belated birthday Madame, my computer is back but still not right.
I would like to comment on Kevin's statement regarding his pen-to-paper responses to ALL his mail ... that is a load of shit. He has not only not had the courtesy to reply to his brother's phone calls in the past, but he sends back every card Randy sends him. He has been doing this for years, even before Randy's literary retrospect of his life. He sends his mail back unopened ... CARDS wishing him well ... so, you may want to start bashing me but it is the truth.
As far as his sexuality: he is talented enough to have been able to create a character even in his real life. Randy and I knew he was gay over 17 years ago; his Mom is the one that told us at dinner in her round about way; we caught it. Believe me, I have nothing personal against the man. But I can't tolerate his coarse and aloof attitude to his family: I have been privy to many a phone call that Randy attempted to make to communicate with Kevin and he has never returned one, NEVER.
He may answer his fan mail but ... he prefers weiners ... you get the picture (not a homophobic remark, just facts) and put it to rest. You all read the news about his "attack" in a gay park at night ... enough said ... Kevin, I hope you didn't send Randy's creative and heartfelt card back this year ... he had it hand delivered to him Christmas time and it was "sent back" again unopened ... there is no excuse for that behavior.
Get off the stage Kevin, for a brief moment to acknowledge you are hurting your brother ... but I guess you don't care ... you are too busy answering your "fans".
Is this an example of a "weiner" as kindly demonstrated by footballer Cristiano Ronaldo? Arcati is soooo innocent. My thanks to Lemon Jizz whereat other images will be found.
Delighted to see that Duncan Fallowell's How to Disappear: A Memoir for Misfits debuted at No 1 in Amazon.com's bestseller chart for traveller cock-cockers/cunt-cunters (but these are not exclusive labels - please!). It's time the Americans made a fuss of him as he parades his peculiarities in a variety of clever, playful ways.
Oprah: "Get it down Mr Fallowell! - "
Duncan: "I beg your pardon?"
Naturally, Madame Arcati was among the first to recognise his book's singular brilliance. Eventually, the people who dole out the PEN/Ackerley Prize saw the light and plonked their literary laurel crown upon his still-luxuriant locks.
Now, there's a new US review which I think soul-links to the book. Here. I like the chance angle Garth has picked up on as an unspoken sub-theme. Who's Garth? Do some work you lazy darting fuckers.
The first thing I heard today was the president of Mattel telling me that Barbie was aspirational and about to embark on her 125th career. Then this afternoon I popped over to the site of the world's handsomest novelist, Gavin James Bower. His latest post is about Dapper Dicks, a company that designs clothes for the penis. Barbie and Dapper Dicks made for a nice synchronicity. Let's dress up our playthings.
Dapper Dicks have all sorts of looks for the phallus: the piratical, the dandiacal. The fireman. And others. I quite like the pinstripe suit. Jackets can accommodate a 7" girth. Hats are available. "Dapper wear must be removed prior to intercourse," we are warned. I suppose some people need to be told this.
I utterly applaud this sartorial initiative. For too long the penis has been a synonym for stupidity: we speak of dickheads and people talking cock. So-'n'-so is such a knob. Now's the chance to rebrand a much maligned tool and give it a good styling, like popping Vinnie Jones into a Brooks Brothers. In time we may see Anna Wintour in the front row at Dapper Dicks runway shows. Anything's possible.
Long before 68-year-old opera singer Anne Howells' recent kiss 'n' tell in The Oldie about her affair with "Clyde" - the widely suspected nom d'amour for married Clive James (he denies) - the former Australian TV entertainer, poet, polymath and pal of Martin Amis enjoyed a five-month relationship with the writer and former ABC band member Fiona Russell Powell between 1987 and 1988.
The first the public got to hear about it was courtesy of a News of the World splash. “He had this thing about my breasts, he liked to look at them. He was very fond of turning all the lights off when the moon was out and getting me to sit on the sofa to the strains of Bizet," she told the tabloid. He loved soaping her tits in the bath and she revealed he was desperate for a knighthood: he's still waiting. Perhaps, like Christopher Lee, he'll have to wait till he's 87.
The paper also reported that Fiona, then 34, was threatening to sue James, then 57, for libel over a "blonde nutter" lead character called Jane Austen in his novel Brrm! Brrm! She claimed Austen was plainly modelled on herself. Nothing happened thereafter. James only admitted that his literary character had the same hair, wrists and slash marks as Fiona.
So I caught up with Fiona - who used to write for The Face, I-D and Blitz - to talk about what had mystified me all along: why she'd gone to the paper in the first place.
Darling, always a pleasure to talk with you. Clive James is back in the news and you've been mentioned. Again!
There was a big piece in the Sunday Telegraph the other week on his latest "alleged" infidelity with the opera singer that was taken from an account she wrote for The Oldie. The journalist covering it for the Sun. Tel. had a paragraph about me, that's all.
What are your thoughts on Howells?
I would like to add a couple of things. First of all, I'm not surprised to hear about the opera singer because I remember Clive telling me that he still saw old girlfriends. He said whenever he went back to Australia, he would sleep with a girlfriend he had gone out with in the late 50s, ages before he met his wife, and he's kept it going throughout his marriage.
When I wrinkled up my nose at the thought of him shagging an old bird (I was young, remember!), he said he loved women of all ages. He was quite flattering because he said I was the sort of woman who would always be fanciable, even when I got older. He also said he had girlfriends in many cities all over the world, who he saw whenever he was in their country.
By the way, I'm not the first young woman to have been bedded by Clive to appear in one of his books although he gave me the dubious honour of making me a lead character. In a book he wrote called The Remake, he told me a young blonde features in it who is based on a literary graduate he knew.
His sexual charisma is something else, and not immediately apparent I must say. But Fiona, why did you tell-all to the News of the World in the first place? Isn't it all a bit tacky?
The thing I want to point out about the NOTW story is that it wasn't me who kissed and told, it was Clive who kissed and wrote first. When I finally read the book (Brrm! Brrm!) I realised he had stolen my life lock, stock and barrel - so that I was totally recognisable to anyone who knew me; but he also had used it as an opportunity to put me down. Someone read it recently for the first time and emailed me to say that, in their opinion, it's very nasty and that I must have really got under the old boy's skin.
I gave Clive a chance. I called him and confronted him about the book and it was his response that made me decide to go to the papers. Bear in mind that when I rang him, it had been several years since the book had been published or since we had been in touch. He recognised my voice immediately, saying: "I wondered when I would hear from you. You took your time." Obviously he had been expecting me to contact him about it. He was very relaxed about it and still called me darling.
But what did he say about "your" character in his novel?
When I talked about the book, he denied it, and I asked him how he could do that, who was he kidding? I told him that I was considering legal action and it was his reply that told me just what an utter cunt the man is. He said, "Darling, the girl in the book takes drugs, is an alcoholic and a suicidal nut. Are you prepared to take the stand and admit that you used to be a junkie, drank like a fish and had psychiatric problems?"
To which I bravely replied, "If it's relevant, I'm not afraid to tell the truth." He said, "I think you will find, darling, that you won't be a credible witness. They won't take you seriously." I thought, "So, you stole my life without asking because it makes good material for your book but when I object, you're quite prepared to turn around and use it against me."
That's when my mind was made up. I would do to him what he had done to me: expose him publicly. I knew he would hate that more than anything because, although in those days his profile was high and he seemed to be everywhere, in fact, he is an intensely private man who likes to control his image very carefully and hates anything about his private life being revealed.
Can you believe it (so sure was he of himself) that at the end of that phone call, he actually had the cheek to say he missed me and invited me round to his flat? By the way, I called his publisher and they were very rude to me too, which wasn't very clever on their part.
So what did you do next?
As soon as I got off the phone, I called Max Clifford. However, I still think Clive got off lightly. Although they had the answering machine messages on tape, the NOTW lawyer said that, because he only mentioned love, but not sex, and considering Clive would probably sue, it was best to err on the safe side. That's why they didn't run the original story in the end but went with the fact that I had served a writ on him.
Why didn't you sue him?
Simply because I couldn't afford it. As you know, in this great country of ours, unless you are rich, you don't have a reputation worth defending. It cost £5,000 just to serve a writ on him. I was advised that, though I would probably win the case, Clive could afford the best lawyers who would do everything to got to delay the case until I ran out of money.
Max took his cut - I even got screwed there; he's supposed to take 20% and I got £20,000 from the NOTW. However, when I received my cheque from Max, it was for £15,000 so he'd actually taken 25%. I asked for the grand he owed me but never got it. Watching the way Max works is an education in itself but I'm not sure it was worth a quarter of my fee.
Incidentally, years later, when Clive thought it safe to do so, he more or less admitted to it, first in an interview in the Evening Standard, about four years ago, when he said something along the lines of I had "good reason" to complain. He also talked about me in an interview Ginny Dougary (is that her name?) did with him in The Times about 18 months ago. I've got it somewhere if you want me to dig it out.
Thanks Fiona. Let's talk again soon - about current work projects, life and, oh, anything really.
PS The Ginny Dougary interview in The Times for May 12, 2007: the relevant passage starts - after mention of Brrm! Brrm! - with James saying: “I’m sorry about her [Fiona]… she was a talented young girl.” Since there is something elegiac about his tone, I ask him whether she’s still alive. “I have no idea,” he says (she is). “She had some very...” Drug problems? “Yesss. I regretted that. The occasional busy journalist, especially in Australia, likes to run an article when they hear about this, saying that Clive’s marriage is on the rocks, and I have to point out, if I get the chance, that my marriage has been on the rocks for 40 years.” Click here to read the piece in its entirety.
A certain incorrigible person of the world writes to Madame Arcati about her encounters of the celebrity cock kind. Adult content, poppets...
Dear Madame,
Given your obsession with cocks - you old size queen! - I should tell you that Clive James has quite a reasonable cock. I would put him at a quite broad 6 and a half inches to a seven.
David Lee Roth is a Princess Tinymeat, as is George Michael, as we all know, thanks to Brad Branson.
Steven Berkoff's is short but very very thick and Mickey Rourke couldn't get it up because he'd injected so much liquid valium.
***** ******** tells girls his cock is tiny as part of his chat up technique. When a man tells you his dick is small, naturally, you don't believe him. Well, he wasn't lying. I've already horrified you, no doubt, by telling you I've got a tiny cunt [in a section edited out, alas] but *****'s cock is so minute that I couldn't even tell when it was in me or not. He was very straight sexually. Thought I was a pervert when I suggested rimming and a bit of hanky spanky.
But he kept pestering me to have sex with another guy while he watched. When I told him ***** called that "homosexuality by proxy" he went mad!
Grace Jones tried to seduce me but I wouldn't go further than massage skin cream all over her. She used to lie in the bath for hours, full to the brim with bubbles. She was horny as fuck with anything that moved.
I've never slept with Keith Allen despite several attempts on his part. I can tell you more if you want to know. My mind is always in the gutter, looking up the stars skirts.
Your Friend Forever x
Dear Darling,
That'll be enough for now. Save the rest for your memoirs.
Alfie Allen's penis has made its stage debut at Chichester in Equus. To the charge of phallocentricity, a naked Laura O'Toole serves as a useful counter-balance. A front row critic tells Arcati: "His penis acquitted itself well in the circumstances, not embarrassing its owner or the audience with any notice-me antics. Though the actors emitted a certain amount of noise (as is their scripted wont), and shifted about the stage to maintain a sense of momentum, his penis was the star of the show as mute eye candy, just hanging there - sometimes dancing about in livelier moments - as unboxered penises do. From a dramatic perspective, his penis is rather like Lady Bracknell's handbag* - an inanimate** MacGuffin - though in this instance, seen but not talked about, whereas the handbag is unseen but much talked about." *A handbag? Click here **Inanimate as in "appearing dead; not breathing or having no perceptible pulse." PS: I wonder why Princess Perez and Heat think posting a bunch of pics of a naked actor is "pervy"? Find their sites and espy their prose blushes, poor things. But publishing female tit and puby beaver is OK, not pervy. Odd that. Anyone would think they take their daily catechism from Old (Mr) Murdoch, the high priest of Perpetual Scrotism.
A new penis has been found in Alfie Allen, little bro of Lily, to replace Daniel Radcliffe's in Equus which opens in Chichester on January 31. A nude photoshopped version is invited - regular Arcati devotees know the drill.
(Apparently he got the role because he demonstrated an ability to rise at 8am - for a casting breakfast meeting)
In a shock blog poll result commissioned by the Madame Arcati personality construct, 58% of her global reading public have voted that this picture of Zac Efron's cock and balls is a Photoshopped fake!
Only 26% thought this pictorial display of the singing-acting star's masculine crown jewels was for real. Ten per cent generously concluded that the image captured "something of the actual" while a mean 6% thought it "nothing like the actual".
Madame Arcati commented: "Not much gets past my public - as seasoned size queens, they can spot a phony once it's pointed out to them."
Another critic, Lorenzo, was fast asleep when called by reporters - his mother said to call back later. "Shhhhh! The masturbator lazy it is full of paste," she helpfully explained (according to Babel Fish). "È un muscolo Mary."
And the Francophone Claire issued a statement: "J'aime sucer le robinet du Duralex" (as translated by Babel Fish). For more on this incomparable translation service click here.
Having a penis is the height of fashion right now. In the same week as BBC3 announces new show My Penis and Everyone Else’s – which asks why more men aren't talking about their penises when there is a growing industry devoted to increasing penis size (I thought they talked about nothing but) - comes the news that Virgin 1 will make The Great British Penis: Penis Envy that will set out to answer the question: What is the average British willy size? "According to statistics, given the chance, 98% of men would increase the size of their penis, so size clearly matters," said director of programming for Virgin 1 Celia Taylor. "It's going to be intriguing to see what the average man is so unhappy about in our own survey." I can’t imagine why men are so hung about their dick size …
Words: Vanity Fair (September), in a piece on the rich-born male trash who prey on the Paris/Nicole/Lindsay/Kimberley/et al crowd to push their businesses in the tabloids and blogs.
The balls pic is not in the magazine (I can't think why, unless advertisers of expensive baubles might have tut-tutted), so I thought I'd take a look and see what the fuss is about. I'm glad to see that VF is as tasteful as Arcati.
"It's not as big as I thought - they said he was hung like a donkey. I never saw Young Adam" "They always exaggerate - look at that Daniel Radcliffe" "He's quite well endowed, bigger than Ewan" "Photoshop - Madame Arcati just stuck someone else's dick on him" "No! Oh that's so awful, what a con" "You can't trust what you see, I mean how do you know that this Ewan pic hasn't been reversed or touched up?" "Well, it's from a movie innit - and he's ginger!" "Could have been painted on - how do you know he's not blond?" "Well, he's Scottish ain't he? "You can have Scottish blonds, you twat" "What about Liam Neeson - that bitch model Janet whatsit said he was hung like a donkey or something" "She denies it now, says she may have exaggerated ha ha" "Oh, that's terrible. But what kind of person sticks up celebrity dick pics in the first place?" "Don't ask"
In the Madame Arcati exclusive poll on Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliffe and the condition of his penis, I asked: Is he cut or uncut? An overwhelming majority of the 625 people who took part decided that he is uncut. Final result:
Cut 133 (21%) Uncut 492 (78%)
To decide for yourself, follow the label below. My thanks to all who took part. Other polls of an original nature to follow.
Taken from Tim Palen's Guts: The Art of Marketing Horror Films, out July, and the item left occupies a double-page spread entitled Eli Roth Has the Biggest Dick in Hollywood. Is the 24" trunk for real? Do ya believe in Santa? Go do something useful, size queens!
Much to my astonishment, nearly 75,000 people have visited this site alone just to view the Daniel Radcliffe/Equus nude photo - even after all this time! So here's another one, the posterior shot. May as well give what the public want.
And if you missed the Daniel Radcliffe Penis study, click here.
And here's another bottom shot ...
For a short TV report on Radcliffe in Equus, view this on YouTube [click here]
For reasons I don't understand, the Daniel Radcliffe nude photos [click here for an example] on my site still draw masses of visitors after all these weeks, from medical websites in particularly, peculiarly. So, I'll see what happens with Daniel Craig ....
I stumbled on your site entry on seeing "all of" Daniel Radcliffe in Equus.
About two months ago, Daniel gave an interview to an Australian early morning news and "chat" program - and he said that his mother is Jewish (father not) - and that he is not religious at all. The interview, by the way, is on youtube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qp7IIvZuGdU).
American Jewish newspapers reported this and the London Jewish Chronicle soon caught up with the same news - and noted that Daniel's mother had appeared, as a schoolgirl, in the pages of the Chronicle (for winning a dance award) and the Chronicle reached Daniel's Jewish grandma who said he was "just lovely."
I gather you are saying that Daniel is circumcised - which, I gather, is not the norm for non-Jewish or non-Muslim English men these days - although there are numerous exceptions.
I am correct - he is circumcised?
One would guess that Daniel's circumcision was "influenced" by his mother's Jewish background - it is something that even very assimilated Jews "do."
An American Fan
Dear American Fan
Daniel appeared circumcised to me at the Gielgud theatre.
Alfie Allen's cock, click here We all know Daniel Radcliffe can act but the only question on people's minds this morning is: How big is it? You will be pleased to learn that Madame Arcati was resplendent at the Gielgud for the first night of Peter Shaffer's Equus. All the queens (OK, critics) were in the front rows with programmes over their laps and their binocular lorgnettes primed for the nudity. I can report that Daniel's dick is of average proportion (about 3.5" in flaccid state) but inclined sometimes to 4" after he gives it a tug or two while his back is turned (sneaky!) to the audience. More impressive, if these things impress you, were his testicles which brought to my mind the query: Anyone for tennis? They rather swayed about to an alarming degree as he threw his person hither and thither the stage. So my theatrical advice to Dan is: prior to the disrobing scene snuggle your sac in ice for that tighter look. You don't want to frighten the horses, after all.
