Lay Off The Drugs Hon

A funny thing happened to Duffy in her dressing room before a gig opening for Coldplay in Cleveland: The candle she'd lit for ambiance set her hair on fire and she almost burned up. "I was in the dressing room and I had music on and candles alight," said the reincarnation of Lulu (yes I know Lulu isn't dead). "The venue was a huge stadium, like a big sports centre. The dressing rooms had big white lights, no mirrors and lockers all along. They were super cool but you wouldn't want to spend three hours in there. So I was giving it a little bit of razzle dazzle. I had dimmed the lights then I lit this candle and it started melting a bit.

"I thought, 'Shit!' and started blowing it out. I got a cloth to wipe it up and bent down, not realising it was still lit. Then the entire left side of my hair went up in flames."

The situation was made more embarrassing, says Duffy, because Coldplay's Chris Martin was on his way to meet her, and when he got there she had to explain her room smelling like fried hair. "Are you giving yourself a home perm in here?" Michael Jackson sympathizes I'm sure.

Move Over Keira

Welsh chanteuse Duffy admits she's having a hard time adjusting to the attention that comes with having a hit record. "As a girl I thought I was superhuman... but I'm borderline on a breakdown," Duffy says. "The scary thing is that this feels like the beginning. It would be easy to become a recluse... I have sold my soul."

Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine Duffster. Just follow Keira Knightley's lead. Claim you despise fame, then sign huge contracts to have your picture taken for billboards and magazine advertisements. Then do tons of interviews where you spill your guts about every tiny detail of your life...including the fact that you hate having no privacy. Then stop eating entirely and become so consumed with rage that no one around you can stand you and people in the business start rooting for you to fall on your face. Then do the one thing Keira hasn't done yet but we wish she would do: Die.

Or I suppose you could just beg for mercy (yeah yeah yeah).

Duffy for Nivea

Fuck Duffy...who's the gorgeous dude? He looks like a young Brad/Johnny Depp hybrid. Oh, okay...Duffy's cute too. She's got a little Goldie Hawn vibe I think. The songs are okay but they're the kind you switch the station on after you've heard them three or four times. At least she can keep her shit together unlike Wino.

The Boring One

Duffy is to British pop stars what Hayden Panettiere is to slutty little starlets. She's boring. She never gets in trouble or has her picture taken staggering around with coke in her nostrils. She never flashes her extra nipples on television. No one ever accuses her of fucking for tracks. She can sing but so what?

Duffy is so dull and normal that she even considered a career as a commercial fisherwoman. "I tried it for one day," Duffy said. "It was absolutely disgusting. I had to get the bus home and I stank of fish." Yeah, but you didn't stink of liquor or puke or jizz. You didn't vomit blood or show up at your husband's court date bombed out of your mind. Dullsville.