P Diddy Vs Alan Carr Vs Ashley Cole. Bunfight...

P Diddy might be a egocentric fool...but Alan Carr is a tidy, little funbag. 

I wasn't the only person waiting, in vain, to speak to Diddy.
Toothy funnyman Alan was left hanging in the lurch too.
Exactly what the campest man outside of Lapland is doing at a hip hop hoedown is anyones guess.
However, he did say, "I can hold my own in here tonight, I'm cooler than you think."
Yep, sure you are Alan, sure you are.
I think the look on his face says it all....

Mind you, he was forced to sit with Meg Matthews and Calum Best.
Make of that what you will.





Meanwhile in the other corner lounging at a posh VIP table, stacked with champagne, was Chelsea wide boy Ashley Cole, with his boys. Since last year Ashley's been dating (ie shagging or conveniently getting paped with) Playboy model Kayla Collins. I'm sure his ex wifey Cheryl Cole is ecstatic to know he's bonking a plastic-brained boobalious blonde.
Kayla mnaged to tear herself away from tooth-foss bikinis and wrinkly men to hang out in London with Ashley and Diddy.
However, it all went a bit tits-up for the erotic bunny.
Flash Ash didn't speak to her all night... despite sitting directly oposite her. Instead, he sat texting, constantly, on his phone. Always a true gent.
After a few hours of humiliation Kayla threw a wobbler, when he refused to leave with her, and stormed off home alone.
Conveniently moments later, she declared: "Everyone has blown our relationship out of proportion. I'm enjoying being single and dating. I'm looking for Mr Right".
Which actually translates as..."Ashley's blown me out because I make him look too clever and he thinks that's uncool. So, I'm now going to pretend we were never together in a bid to look less stupid. I'm a Playboy Bunny you know, I could have anyone. P.S I'd come running back if he asked me, or text me, or even gave me a second of his time.)

Meanwhile dirty Ash stayed out with the lads, no doubt looking for Mrs Rightnow... the poor unsuspecting cow.

Mugged off by P Diddy

There are many things I'd love to do on a Thursday night, after work, in my free time.

However, wait four agonising hours for an interview with P Diddy is definitely not one of them.
Especially, when the tedious four hour wait turns out to be fruitless exercise because the self-titled King of rap "doesn't want to speak to any press tonight."
Great.

The word 'agonising' might seem a tad melodramatic but hanging around in a dingy nightclub banging out hip hop tunes when you're as sober as Mother Teressa is pretty soul destroying.
There's been many times over my 10 year career in showbiz that I've waited pointlessly for a celeb, only to be told at the last minute said self-important person is too busy, or "doesn't feel like talking today".
However, I'm usually half-cut by that point and therefore relatively jovial about the snub.
Such is the beauty of booze.

I've never met P Diddy/ Puff Daddy/ Puffy/ Diddy/ Sean Combs, before. And always thought of him as a hip hop legend, a businessman, an enigma, a cool dude. So it's fair to say I was intrigued to finally meet him.

However, after waiting hours and getting mugged off my the aging Simon Cowell wannabe, I now conclude that he's a self important muppet, who probably doesn't know his arse from his elbow.