Poor Fabio - he's the real victim in this.
Grooverider was charged in the UAE because he arrived with some cannabis in his luggage. He said: "Back home I would not even get prosecuted."
He's now got four years to work out why that's not a good defence in a court of law in Dubai.
Okay, this is going to sound cruel and I don't feel great about it because the guys from Hot Chip seem quite nice - especially the beardy one who looks like he runs a kebab shop. But some questions demand answers.
Alexis Taylor's appearance: is it a joke? I'm presuming that it is, but if it isn't a joke, then it's really, really offensive that I just asked that.
Consider the facts. There are the vastly oversized glasses and the has-to-be-a-joke extreme side parting. Yet added to this is an ear stud. It's one half winner of 'dorkiest accountant of the Eighties' and the other half's Essex wide boy (of the Eighties).
Don't do an image search for Alexis Taylor, by the way. Turns out there's an altogether ruder female Alexis Taylor. Don't do it, do it, do it, do it; do it, do it, do it now.
I had a really low-key epiphany the other day. Britney Spears' face looks like a Norman helmet. It's the way her forehead and nose protrude beyond the rest of her face.
Obviously everyone's nose sticks out, but Britney's sticks out the exact same amount as her forehead, as if it's one, solid unit.
Britney:
Norman helmet:
Norman helmet:
Britney:
Pretty persuasive, I'm sure you'll agree.
If I can narrow it down further, it's the very top of the nose, between the eyes. It's flat with her eyebrows there and as the nose proceeds downwards, it doesn't actually get any further away from her face. It's totally flat. As flat as her singing voice.
He wants to be known as Sean John now. Don't know what was wrong with all of my suggestions. They were much better than that.
Since when do you get to pick your own nicknames anyway? Nicknames aren't self-applied. They're granted to you by benevolent peers.
Do you think I chose to be called 'piss flaps'? No. That was most definitely not a name I chose for myself. I'd have gone for something catchy like 'Lord Megachief of Gold'.
The campaign to have Sean John known as 'Horror Turd' starts here.
There was a 'high speed chase' involving Britney Spears the other day. Turns out it wasn't her, it was some paparazzi following her though.
The most shocking aspect of this, however, is that some reports have referred to a new Britney album that's apparently been released.
Britney Spears doesn't make records, does she? I thought she just looned around all wild-eyed and hairless (in many places).
Nobody's interested in Britney Spears on any level. Newspapers and websites report anything about her on the grounds that everyone else is doing the same. These reports are all met with a huge groundswell of apathy.
That's the thinking behind this website: pick the stories that nobody's interested in and then write about how no-one's interested.
That's how to build an audience.
She's got a note from her mum. It worked for cross-country, it'll work for prison, seems to be her rationale.
Foxy Brown's in prison for assaulting people in a beauty salon. Bizarrely, she's done this twice. Maybe the mirrors send her mental.
Anyway, in the middle of a one-year prison sentence, she's asking to be released because she's got earache. This might set a dangerous precedent whereby murderers, rapists and the like get out because of ingrowing toenails. It's mean to make them endure such torment whilst incarcerated.
If you ask me, Foxy Brown should receive a lengthy sentence for self-applying the moniker 'Foxy'.
The Daily Star's reporting how Amelle from the Sugababes is living in a mobile home.
As far as I can tell, her boyfriend's mum lives in 'a prefab chalet' and Amelle's staying with her because it's easier to visit her boyfriend in hospital from there.
Her boyfriend was attacked by a bloke with a machete at New Year.
Well done, the Daily Star. Maybe if he'd died you could have mocked Amelle for going to the funeral rather than 'her usual glamorous parties' that she probably doesn't really go to anyway.
It better be a conventional book and not an audio book.
I might be able to tolerate Kate Nash in book format. At least she wouldn't be making those horrendous voice-noises.
I'm led to believe that it's some sort of 'speech' or 'singing' or something in between. I just presumed that it was a new US sonic weapon myself. A pretty bloody effective one at that. It saps my will to live, at any rate.
So would Kate Nash be tolerable on mute? No, wait, there's that whole terrible metaphor thing as well.
Want me to sort out the cracks in your foundations, Kate? I'll sort them with my mallet, assuming that 'cracks' means 'teeth' and 'foundations' means 'mouth'.
Harsh, perhaps, but that voice; that accent. Come on, you'd do the same.
Iran's hilarious. Albeit only from a distance. Reactionary and needlessly dictatorial policies like this probably don't split your sides if you live in Isfahan and are partial to a spot of urban rhyming.
Even though a large proportion of contemporary rap is woeful, self-aggrandising shod, it doesn't warrant banning it. Education's the only reasonable countermeasure.
Someone should be playing 50 Cent's music back to him and seeing how he likes it. He'd change his tune then - perhaps to one with a second note in it at some point.
Uh-huh. Yeah. Mmm. Yeah.
Bell-end.
I'm not saying that they're walking to the shops themselves and handing over a crumpled ten pound note in exchange for the UK's traditional beverage, no, they're getting a Maximo Park brew made for them.
Actually, it's just Newcy Brown with a different label on it. You could pretty much do that yourself, if you so chose. You could even do it with a beer whose name isn't usually preceded by: "There's nothing decent at all. The best thing they've got is probably..."
Newcastle Brown: Everyone's favourite 'slightly better than generic lager' choice.
Someone who's been to rehab before with no noticeable effect is thinking about going back. She's not actually going, as yet. She's just thinking about it; weighing up whether it'll be worthwhile or not. She's still mulling over whether she can be bothered or not.
Music news is top drawer today. Tomorrow, I'll publish a whole raft of updates about how Keith Richards is in two minds about whether his guitar needs restringing. Also this week: Kylie Minogue ponders that eternal dilemma - tea or coffee?
Hosepipe-bodied, panda-eyed, walking self-caricature, Kate Moss, goes out with someone from the band The Kills now, apparently. Can you say 'she's old enough to be his mother' yet, or is that still a couple of years off? I'm not sure.
Anyway, apparently the eyebrowless dementotron wants to sing a song on stage with Pete Doherty and this guy from The Kills, Jamie Hince, isn't happy about it.
Someone said: "Kate says she dreams about doing a number with Pete and has never felt as high as when she was on stage with him. She misses it.
"Jamie is scared there will be such excitement and hype about her being reunited with Pete on stage that everyone will assume they are back together. It would be humiliating."
Excitement at a Pete Doherty gig seems an unlikely eventuality, unless it's the kind of excitement that erupts when people have paid money to see something that's palpably shit and they start to kick the venue to pieces to vent their frustrations.
The Chemical Brothers must be the only band in the world who could release a singles compilation that would be inferior to each and every one of their other albums.
It's not that their singles are bad. They're relatively bad, in the sense that they tend to be the inferior songs off any given album, give or take the odd exception. Mostly it's just the result of remarkably high standards of album. Get any Chemical Brothers album and it's brilliant.
Some people call The Chemical Brothers 'The Chemicals' which is totally moronic. They're 'brothers' who are 'chemical'. They're not 'chemicals'. Actually, they're not brothers, but they're more brothers than they are chemicals.
Same goes for 'The Arctics' although 'The Monkeys' could be confusing, I admit. Doesn't matter. Call them 'The Monkeys' or call them 'Arctic Monkeys'. Those are the options.
Unbreakable? By God, we owe it to ourselves to at least try.
We could position The Backstreet Boys so that either end is suspended but their middle is unsupported and drop a piano. Surely that would break them?
We could freeze them solid and then strike them with a wrecking ball. I've high hopes for that one.
We could give them to boisterous four-year-old to play with. They can break anything.
All I ask is that you don't give up. Don't take their word for it. Don't be cowed. Don't be beaten. Break them.
Or 'Starry Eyed Surprise and Remixes' as it should be called. Probably the Big Brother music's on there as well, but I don't know what it's called. I wonder how many people will pick up this album, scour the sleeve for 'Big Brother Choon' and then put it back down again, disappointed.
This is probably quite good, overall. Paul Oakenfold remixes do tend to improve on the originals and if you think that they don't, try listening to the original of almost any of the tracks on this album.
"This isn't the original," you'll be saying. Yes, it is, actually. You just think that Paul Oakenfold's remix is the original.
One of the prickiest covers to an album in living memory though.
Nearly November? It must be time to start releasing all the 'best of' compilations.
People don't want new stuff for Christmas, they want selected highlights of stuff they've already got but handily placed in the same package. This is even more crucial now that everyone dumps everything on some form of MP3 player and sets it to 'random'. If you've got something on there twice, there's double the chance you'll get to hear it.
Ultimate Santana then, which we've twice typed as 'Ultimage' for some reason. Santana is of course famous for meandering guitar twiddling that goes on for hours backed by more percussion than two cymbal factories running into each other and falling over.
This being Ultimate Santana, he's gone even further. Imagine the Big Bang. Imagine every atom expanding at the speed of light is replaced by a bongo or a high hat. Imagine the cacophony.
Now imagine that this goes on for longer than eternity.
Pete Doherty made a surprise appearance in the middle pages of many of the nation's newspapers last week.
The articles centred around a court case where Doherty has been charged with possession of drugs as well as some other minor misdemeanours.
All of the articles began with a short description of the charges levelled against Doherty before going on to outline the punishment dished out to the moon-faced, under-achieving producer of underwhelming, self-consciously sloppy dross.
The majority of the press coverage refers to Doherty's latest attempt to 'go clean'.
All of the coverage refers to his one-time relationship with panda-eyed, semi-mute broom handle appendage to many an 'outsider', Kate Moss.
Strawberry blonde, pap-pop purveying, leprechaun-faced Mancunian munchkin, Mick Hucknall has announced that he'll be recording music under his own name from 2009 and therefore calling time on Simply Red a mere 25 years too late.
Mick's got a simple aim for the future: "I want to be more influenced by R’n’B of the Sixties and try my slant on it, and try to invent a new form of music."
Trying to invent a new form of music might seem a lofty aim, but you forget who you're dealing with.
"I am one of the best singer-songwriters this country has produced. Ever." - Mick Hucknall.
"Tom Jones told me only a few singers have got the pipes, and he's right. He has. Sinatra did. I have." - Mick Hucknall.
Why not go anywhere in the whole wide world other than Aberdeen. Travis are to headline this year's free Hogmanay celebrations there.
What is it with this band? Why must they so consistently victimise cheapskates?
At least when you had to pay for their records and gigs you knew you were safe. Now they could turn up anywhere.
Stay in your homes. Don't risk going to Tesco. You might get 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?'-ed in the booze aisle.
