Come Out, Come Out, WhereKevin You are

Home of the Blind Item that reads like Braille Holy Moly reports:


A mole’s gay friend has recently hooked up with a lovely new chap. The only cloud on their loved-up horizon comes in the form of the new chap’s ex, who took the break-up extremely badly and has resorted to various forms of emotional blackmail, late night phone whining and increasingly-stalky behaviour.

The harassment continues. It doesn’t help that the ex-boyfriend is an Oscar-winning actor who is much respected amongst London theatre circles.

Yes, it’s the usual suspect…

Ladies and germs it ain’t NASA, it ain’t the International Space Station, it’s America one and only undercover satellite Kevin Spacey … Building the world’s largest glass closet: one shiny brick at a time.

From his early days talking his Moms to the Oscars, holding disingenuous ‘I aint gay’ GQ interviews through his adventures with 3am “dog walking” in cruisey Hampstead Heath - nothing can stop our Artistic Ambassador to English Theatrical World as he waves gleefully to all and sundry (including some very sundry characters indeed) rom inside his transparent wardrobe. Get a Lion and A Witch in there and he’s all set to play with Mr.Tumnus.

Famous for handing out his phone number to every cute waiter in London (on 20 pound notes at the end of meals) Kevvo Spacey proves that Ian McClellan’s work has hardly begun. Still there’s nothing like a restraining order, ASBO, or full blown court case to turn Cheeky knowing silence into The Trials of Oscar Wilde, luckily Gay-Pax has chosen a way better century.

Published 2/2/07 by


Cele|bitchy

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