Roseanne Barr

Controversial comedienne Roseanne has raised the bar with a shocking photo-shoot for Jewish American publication, Heeb. In its latest edition, ‘the Germany issue’, the actress - who once fronted a US TV cookery show called Domestic Goddess - appears as an uncomfortably convincing Adolf Hitler in drag, complete with trademark moustache, brilliantined short back and sides and psychotic glazed expression. Would our very own domestic goddess Nigella Lawson who, like Barr, was also born Jewish, ever agree to be pictured as a Nazi hausfrau holding a baking tray of charred gingerbread men that are described on Heeb’s webiste as ‘burnt Jew cookies.’ With her ‘gingerbread victim cookies’ leaving a bad taste in many mouths, what next for her dubious satyrical creation? Fronting a campaign for oven cleaner?

Megan Fox

Touted by some as the next Angelina Jolie - despite a range that doesn’t appear to stretch much beyond evading robots disguised as cars - Fox reckons to have ‘some kind of mental problem’ as yet unpinpointed. Could the issue be more physical in nature? Like foot in mouth disease? This might explain a penchant for outlandish, unfiltered quotes that would cause most stars’ PR people to vomit or suffer uncontrollable diarrhoea - the avoidance of which - along with tripping - are among Megan’s stated objectives whenever she is on stage according to an interview in Wonderland magazine. Suggesting she’d really like to let rip on the topic of Michael Bay, her director on the latest Transformers flick, she reins her comments way in, comparing him to nobody more frightful than Napoleon - a syphilitic, baldy, megalomaniac midget with delusions of grandeur, then? - or that perennially fluffy kitten, Hitler - a description unlikely to commend Bay to Hollywood’s Jewish grandees. ‘He’s a nightmare to work for,’ she says. Just as well the batty brunette won’t have to in future.

Mischa Barton

As war criminal/ sadistic dentist Dr Szell in Marathon Man, Larry Olivier memorably hits a few raw nerves as he drills into Dustin Hoffman’s gnashers. Perhaps poor Ms Barton’s recent extractions were at the brutal hands of one of the Nazi molar molester’s alumnae? The troubled ‘star’ claims her Colgate ring of confidence was shattered when her wisdom teeth were removed without proper medication, on the grounds that taking painkillers might impinge on her TV commitments. The trauma of this ‘terrible’ dental surgery apparently explains July’s rumoured involuntary stint in an LA psychiatric unit. Palliative care has come a long way since my great-granny had her entire bottom set yanked out with only neat whisky to numb the pain - indeed, my own dentist’s preferred form of sedation involves nothing more traumatic than subjecting patients to re-runs of Mischa in The OC - so forgive me for wondering if even the tooth fairy might dismiss this painful tale as complete mental floss.

image: www.alarmpress.com

Courtney Love

Pity poor Ma Cobain! There she was at some New York fashtrash-bash doing whatever ‘the most controversial woman in the history of rock’ (according to Rolling Stone) does in the loo with her Hole, when her solitude was abruptly shattered. Er, that metal thingy ? It's called a lock, Love. Mistaking her cubicle’s door for the venue’s exit, civilian Sebastian Karnaby burst in to find the startled star wishing ‘she’d gone to have a poo at Paul’s’ - as one current TV ad goes. Cue mayhem, as Love reportedly ‘went nuts’ jumping on him, dragging him around by the arm and acting like a woman possessed. Lucky for Karnaby - who ungallantly says the sight of the singer with her skirt round her ankles ’wasn’t pretty’ - he didn’t burst in on toilet temper tantrum queen, Cheryl Cole! Would Ma Cobain have reacted differently had her tormentor revealed his profession? Some celebs would have invited him in, demanding the pharmacist share out the tools of his trade. Wouldn't have happened to Loo Reed!

image: www.mclol.com

Chipmunk

The young MC blasted into the charts with one of the last year’s killer pop hooks, Diamond Rings, which - for those unfamiliar with his romantic lyricism he described as ‘the s***’. Just the sort of flowery lingo to win him fans in America, the market he vows to conquer. But could he stand the heat? It’s a notoriously tough nut to crack (ask Robbie, Jordan et al) and recent reports don’t augur well; he’s been posting disturbing tweets such as ‘I wanna die’ and ‘is suicide easy?’ Oopsy daisy! Crack America when it looks like you’re cracking up in Britain? Is this wise? (Ask Amy). Minders advised rest, which presumably included a night out at full-on nightclub Whisky Mist at Rhianna’s party just days later? He bounces back quick but I worry that for all his swagger and attitude, the lil’ Chip Diddy chappy might be a delicate blossom. Time to cash in his chips and become a monk?

image: tragnark.com

Peaches Geldof (admittedly, this is testing the parameters of the term 'celeb' somewhat)

Apparently, the poor pudding claims to suffer recurring dreams about bread. What’s that, Sigmund? A deep seated anxiety that those bedazzled by her inestimable talents will one day think ‘what the Dickens?’ and stop chucking dough at the infant phenomenon? Could she still count on ‘tight a***, Irish potato famine miser’ Sir Daddy to finance any mammoth hotel bill not written off for a mention in her magnificent media outpourings? Milk it while you can, missy, reprising your gig as pants model for Michelle Mone who regards you as epitomising Miss Ultimo; i.e. ‘everything a young woman should be.’ Well, who wouldn’t want their tackily tattooed teen bride/divorcée daughter to star in a drugs deal video or come across - as in a recent cringeworthy Fearne Cotton-wooly interview - as a precocious vacuum who - were her folks not famous - might be hard pushed to get a gig demonstrating Hoovers?  Stylish? Sure! If junior Scientologist (was Kabbalah, ‘like’, too last year?) got up as something even the cat wouldn’t drag in floats your boat. if there's a less worthwhile 'celeb' clogging up our mags, I'm yet to discover them. What is the point of the Geldof brat? Somebody, can Peaches! Pretty, please?


Image: ' Sliced Peaches' (the author does not condone knife crime!) webrestaurantstore.com

Myleene Klass

Replacing snow as national obsession, the controversy surrounding Myleene’s ticking-off by the Old Bill rages on with Mr. Cameron adding his two penn’orth to the debate. The scenario goes something like this: Middle Britain’s sweetheart is home alone practicing her scales, dreaming about what fabulous career to pursue next and preparing a meal - not just any meal  but an M&S meal, one imagines - when she spots two menacing figures lurking in her idyllic Home Counties garden. ‘Be off with you, you scally-wags!’ she exclaims, instinctively grabbing a kitchen knife to wave at the rapscallions. Wrong move!  Nowadays, the law decrees that intruders be met with an invitation to afternoon tea and a preview of Ms Klass’s thrilling new light entertainment, Pop Star to Opera Star, in which Danny from McFly and Bernie Nolan tussle with Tosca. This, rather than brandishing a well-polished Sabatier, is how to send potential rapists/ murders screaming for the hills in Gord’s promised land, apparently.