NEW YORK – President Elect Donald Trump has released an album of standards.

To celebrate his inauguration, incoming President Donald Trump releases an album of beautiful songs, telling stories of his travels. The press release states:

“In The Wee Small Hours” is a celebration of a man who ‘did it his way’, a man who has been ‘a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king’. President Elect Trump is asking you to ‘Come Fly with Him’ with twenty greats. From ‘I’ve got you (Under my thin skin)’ to ‘The Lady is a Nasty Tramp’, Trump gives his own spin to some of the American songbook’s greatest hits, including a duet with Ivanka Trump ‘Somethin’ Stupid’ and a dedication to his doctor ‘You Make Me Feel So Young’.

Donald Trump will be singing at his own inauguration.

Image courtesy of @ThePixelFactor.


WASHINGTON – Earlier today, the estate of the late Dean Martin sensationally released a signed document which they claim is the dictated deathbed confession of the former lounge singer and actor.

The document, which is still awaiting official verification, contains several allegations including Jerry Lewis’ secret donations to The Baadar-Meinhoff Gang and Sammy Davies Jnr’s links to the Israeli Intelligence service Mossad. The most explosive passage of the confession, however, is Martin’s suggestion that Frank Sinatra was the infamous ‘Man on
the Grassy Knoll’, who conspiracy theorists have long alleged was responsible for the assassination of former US president John F Kennedy:

I was at my suite in The Tropicana in December 1963 and Sinatra came over with a bottle of Scotch. We polished that off pretty swiftly and, halfway through the next, Frank suddenly asked me what I thought about the assassination. I told him I was sorry for his family but after what that son of a bitch did to Marilyn – I had no personal love for the man. Suddenly, Frank started laughing like a maniac and when I asked him what he was laughing about, he said he had a confession to make; but if I ever told anyone about it I’d end up in a hole in the desert. I thought he was just drunk and boasting so I said, “Sure Frank, spill your guts and I won’t tell another living soul.”

Well what he said next has been eating away at my conscience for over 30 years. He told me that the wrong man had been accused of killing the president and ole Harvey Oswald had been set up to take the fall. Still thinking he was just kidding around I said “Sure Frank, how come you know so much about it?”. Suddenly Sinatra approached me, put both hands firmly on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. “I know about it Deano because I was the man who shot JFK”.

Now Frank was known for talking all kinds of bull and, at first, I thought he was just taking a joke too far – but then he told me how he had been at a card game on November 19th with Mickey Rooney, Tony Curtis, Peter Lawford and Mob boss Sam Giancana. He said everyone was pretty drunk and Sam got talking about how he rigged the New York vote to get Kennedy elected but the President was still busting his balls left, right, and centre. Then the conversation turned to what that son of a bitch did to Marilyn; Giancana got angry and exclaimed, “Will no-one rid me of this turbulent President?” With that, Frank said he excused himself from the table to take a leak and decided he was going to charter a plane to Dallas and assassinate Kennedy.

“It was easy Deano”, he told me, “I borrowed a rifle from Lauren Bacall and jumped on a plane to Dallas. Next thing I know it’s lunch time and I’m stood behind this grassy knoll holding half a bottle of tequila and a 6.5 mm Carcano. I saw the Presidents Limo go past, fired off a couple of shots and then wandered off to find a 7-Eleven.”

I asked Frank how Oswald got caught up in the mess and he said he had “No idea,” but it was – “Probably something to do with the Cubans”.

You know I’ve kept that secret for so long but now I’m on my way out, I thought it was high time the truth came out.

Obviously Martin’s revelations are already sending shock waves around the world and we will keep you updated on the fallout, as it happens.


October 21st , 1957
I had dinner with Dietrich and Chuck Heston to discuss my latest project Touch of Evil. I’d also invited Janet Leigh but she said she had plans to go to the theatre with Tony Curtis to catch some ramshackle, post modern production of the Threepenny Opera

As usual Marlene spent the evening smoking endless cigarettes and becoming increasingly Gin sodden and Heston insisted on trying out a variety of Mexican accents and asking me which one he should adopt for his character. After an hour or so of his incomprehensible babbling I took him by the hand and said “Chuck dear. Forget about the accent. If we put a sombrero on your head and a moustache under your nose as far as the audience is concerned, you’re a Mexican”.
The main course was so nondescript and dreary it doesn’t even deserve a passing mention but I must confess I was rather fond of the chocolate roulade.
November 5th, 1957
Jack Kennedy invited me over for a late supper and I was delighted to find that Frank Sinatra was also in attendance. We chatted about politics, civil rights and the untimely but amusing passing of Senator McCarthy but when Jack made a crude reference to a sexual liaison with Marilyn Monroe, Sinatra rose from his chair and wagged a threatening finger at Kennedy. “One day you’re going to be sorry you said that Jack” said Frank menacingly and with that he grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him as he left.
I regretfully ordered the John Dory when any sane man would have clearly opted for the Monkfish
December 23rd, 1957
Last Thursday after a particularly savage rum session, Jack Warner proposed a wager. He said that if I could survive on nothing but brandy and mince pies from now until Christmas day he would finance my next picture and give me complete creative autonomy. I immediately agreed to the bet but after five days on my limited diet, I’m beginning to think I might have been a little hasty in accepting his challenge. My bowels are no longer functioning as they once did and whenever I sit down I can feel a hot mulch of fruit, pastry and brandy bubbling away in my stomach like the foul contents of a witches cauldron.
I believe it was the Greek Tragedian Aeschylus who said “ The reward of suffering is experience” and although once upon a time those words might have brought me comfort, if that ancient sage was stood before me now I’d ring his damn neck for a fat blood orange and a tall glass of cold water.
I had two mince pies for lunch, followed by brandy.


It’s getting to that time of year when I dig out my old Panama hat and head over to France, I think it is for the Cannes Film Festival. I missed the first one when a few drinks on the plane with Lee Marvin led to an emergency landing in Norway and a very ugly scene with Interpol, but I’ve been to every one since and have thoroughly enjoyed myself. The only bit I don’t like is the films, which tend to be quite long and very foreign, but they do give you ample time to sleep off the lunch you enjoyed on some producer’s yacht. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done my share of those arty pictures, but you do have to learn to talk in subtitles and the director will have a very irritating beard and insist you take your clothes off. It was at Cannes that Prince Rainier III of Monaco beat me 7-4 at table tennis and celebrated by getting married to Grace Kelly. Sadly I couldn’t attend the wedding because I fell in the sea and ruined my suit, but they always sent a card on my birthday.

It was all years ago now of course, but the other day I heard they’ll be turning that very story into a ‘bio pic’, with dear little Eddy Redmayne as yours truly.  I doubt if anyone’s told him he’ll have to shave his hair off for the scene where Frank Sinatra had me tarred and feathered for cheating at golf, but he’s a very fine actor and I’m sure he’ll cope admirably. 

I do like the bit at the end of the festival when they give out the prizes because it’s a free bar, but you do have to make sure you’re stood upwind of those Eastern European actresses if you know what I mean.  Some of them can look a little startling and I do find their tattoos quite intimidating. 

Lucille Ball showed me her tattoos once, but that’s another story…