“Naked and trembling with anticipation, pretty Suzanne Coppin gazed up at the famous face hovering over her as she lay on the Egyptian cotton sheets of his king-size bed….”

So begins News of the World’s account of a night of love with UK idol Robbie Williams, who’s almost as famous as Britney Spears (see the bottom of the page). The story gets better: according to NotW, the next words out of Robbie’s mouth were: “Don’t worry, I haven’t got a sex disease. Would you like to see my doctor’s note?” Suzanne, who is clearly a class act, goes on to reveal that Robbie is obsessed with his weight after the British press dubbed him “Blobby Williams,” and that he’s addicted to sugar-free popsicles (”ice lollies,” on the far side of the pond). Also, he’s definitely not gay, “despite what everyone thinks.”

Now, the source here is News of the World, which has slightly less credibility than a late-night Abdomenizer infomercial. But I’m going to believe the story, because this is awesome journalistic prose. How many papers have the brass mangerines to publish stuff like this:

Robbie’s room was like a teenager’s with a scruffily made bed and clothes piled on the floor…. But none of that mattered from the moment his hands touched my body. I didn’t even care he had the TV playing in the background with a shark documentary on. All that mattered were his hands and lips running all over my body.

You can’t find writing like that outside of a cheap paperback with a title like Love’s Buffed Cuirass and a cover featuring Fabio and some Regency bint popping out of her bustier. More articles like this from NotW and I’ll link them mercilessly, like an angry young Scottish laird whose past is filled with dark, tormenting secrets.

(Via ONTD.)