Not including some carrots
Hey dudes, don’t waste your time angsting over whether that North Korean guy’s going to start a nuclear war. The world has already been taken over, not by self-aggrandising maniacs, but by amazing redheads. Redheads who have spent their entire lives unfairly having to explain that they don’t stink of piss, or being goaded into proving that you can’t actually see their vital organs through their translucent tracing paper skin. Beautiful ginger people who have been the butt of prejudice jokes on such a universal scale for so long that it’s actually ridiculous. Yeah, well fuck you right back world, because gingers are now running the place. Even I’m a bit ginger. If you look at my hair in a certain light. Anyway this meteoric rise, this two fingers to the tornado, this inspiring tale of triumph against the odds, it stretches back for decades, but let’s all hail twelve of these copper-topped honeys who are currently enjoying a dangerous blast in the sunshine…
There was a time when being fat, hairy and ginger was considered the ultimate triple cock punch from Lady Luck. No one would employ you, parents would shriek and mask their children’s eyes as you waddled past them in the street. It was no way to be. NOT ANY MORE! Hip hoppers rate this guy at around 12 on the cool-o-metre, and the cool-o-metre only goes up to 9! WTFFFFFF!
Molly Ringwald used to be known as AnoMOLLY Ringwald back in the 1980s, which was a hilarious joke about her being definitely ginger and yet still very attractive. That hadn’t happened before. Not since Roman times. Now it’s happening all over the place. Especially when that Christina Hendricks is in town. And by in town I mean “on television”. Or at the movies.
Vincent Van Gogh
NAME AN ARTIST! GO ON NAME AN ARTIST! DO IT NOW! NAME AN ARTIST OFF THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD! WRITE IT ON A PIECE OF PAPER! COME ON! WRITE IT DOWN! NOW!… Sorry to get you all panicked, but is that your piece of paper up there (above)? Yes it is. And did you know that he was a ginger?
In fairness – because most of the time I like to write unfairly – so in fairness, that Florence Welch isn’t the first songstrelle with hair like fire to ignite the pop charts. Annie Lennox did it, that one from T’Pau did it, one of Atomic Kitten was a Ginger Tom. Difference is none of them had a machine did they? Think about that for a while.
Discounting the artist formerly known as The Artist Formerly Know As Prince, there hasn’t been a really cool prince since the Tudors, or perhaps even before then. I say that because I’m not 100 per cent sure who the Tudors were, and my knowledge of history stops abruptly the very minute people start asking actual questions about things. All I know is that every once in a while I look at Prince Harry and I want to be that guy so much it makes my dick shrink to just above the 11 inch mark.
His hair is as red as Tescos orange squash, and he’s definitely the funniest stand up comedian in the world at the moment. Not wanting to brag or anything, but I recently went to his show at the Hammersmith Apollo. The upside was that he was absolutely brilliant. The downside was that everyone else there was all like “oooh I’ve got a moustache” or “look, I’m wearing some glasses” or “ahh, I’ve got a jacket on”. Including me.
L Ron Hubbard
Some of you probably just shouted “Muuuum, who’s L Ron Hubbard?” and it’s a good question, but for fuck’s sake don’t go bleating it around famous actors like Tom Cruise or John Travolta, or around professional magazine editors like Peaches Geldof. L Ron Hubbard is their equivalent of God or Buddha, because he invented Scientology. They’d probably do you in with one of their Vulcan death grips.
Not so long ago to find a complete mess lurching from one disaster to another you’d have to flip through the files marked “blonde” or “brunette”. Those cats used to be the wildest ones around. Not now though. Now you’ve got Rihanna who occasionally paints her hair bright red and goes looking for chaos, or you’ve got Lindsay Lohan, who is basically the new Marilyn Monroe minus the good films and the whole being an icon thing. Speaking of which, Monroe was naturally brick-topped. Food for thought there.
He mightn’t get the underpants commercials like his old friend David Beckham, but whisper his name into the ear of any other professional footballer in the world as they sleep and they will awake with the largest erection you have ever seen in your life. To think there was a time when being ginger and asthmatic was considered unattractive.
Great British Menu fans let me hear you say YEAH!… Okay I’m going to go ahead and assume you all just shouted YEAH, so you’ll know all about this guy. He could have won the whole Comic Relief Banquet on his own, his food was the kind of gear you could imagine Zeus eating with the other gods… like Boreas god of Winter, or Hera goddess of the starry constellations.
If you thought you were talented, it’s time to think again. This chick can model, she can sort of act, she just did her own television program about something, she got loads of GCSEs and a bunch of A Levels, and she recently went to Cambridge University where she got an A in everything then left to a standing ovation. All both despite and because of having hair like a box of carrots and a bit of a weird face.
When he started out as an actor the only roles Damian Lewis could get were things like “Man with fire on head” or “Young Russ Abbot”. Now he’s the hottest property in the world thanks to being finally accepted not just for his looks but also for his performance skills. If you didn’t know already, prepare to have your mind rewired: he’s not really an American. No. He was at Eton in the same class as Boris Johnson and Prince William.