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Charli Morgan

PR Director, writer, canvas-botherer, Pulp fanatic

Charli Morgan worked as a journalist and columnist at a veritable pick 'n' mix of publications, before co-founding The Cult PR www.thecultpr.co.uk a few years ago.

After valuable experience as official nipple-counter and penner of fruity interviews at gentlemen's magazine Ice, Charli first fully unleashed her quill at Bizarre Magazine, covering everything from weddings between midgets and giants to people who live their lives as Manga characters. She also enjoyed a bijou stint at The Sunday Telegraph Magazine, working on features including a groundbreaking expose about Saul Kent, the co-founder of the Life Extension Foundation, who cryo-preserved his own mother's head.
Charli also foisted herself upon The Sunday Times Magazine, as well as joining World Entertainment News Network (WENN) as Entertainment Editor, where previous WENN journo Amy Winehouse would spice up the perineum-clenchingly tiresome nightshifts by popping in for sugary tea, gossip and the occasional spliff.

But perhaps her most memorable totter down Fleet Street was on her own showbiz column, The Goss at the Daily Star, which she worked on for more than four years, covering all major showbiz events each year from the Oscars, BRIT Awards, BAFTAs, Cannes Film Festival, each music festival under the mud and everything in between.
During her time at the paper, she also regularly contributed to other publications under the Express Newspapers umbrella, including the Daily Express and OK! Magazine and was the launch presenter of OK! TV, reporting all of the backstage juice and interviewing celebrities on camera at the spiciest events.
Charli also gibbers and rants on 100 Best Chins and similar countdown shows as well as being professionally nosey and opinionated on talkSPORT, Sky News, GMTV and RTL among others.
And she's chuffed to the very core to have a Huffington Post-shaped outlet to mutter and whisper through, like a gin-soaked old nana.

The Long Goodbye

For the first few days, my pupils were so large, my eyes looked black. I thought this was because I had seen Death and now even looked as different as I felt. But I discovered that this, too is normal. Powerful emotions like love, or pain, make your pupils dilate. So grief can turn your eyes black. The blue is now, gradually returning.
07/01/2016 17:43 GMT

Waking Up to Insomnia

People don't talk about sleep problems, because they're embarrassed; they've accepted it as a perpetual part of their lives and others might treat it as a triviality or selfish indulgence that you choose to yield to - you've made your bed, so now you (can't) lie in it.
15/06/2015 09:10 BST

Ear Today, Gone Tomorrow

My horribly X-rated ear came about while sprucing myself for a night out. I made the rookie error of popping in earrings - which had the subtlety and restraint of <em>The Phantom of the Opera</em>'s crashing chandelier - before aggressively combing the knots out of my newly-washed barnet.
12/03/2015 10:36 GMT

BATH Humbug! Part One

My husband and I worked our way through the hotel's endless attractions, in the weekend break equivalent of ramming your face with <em>Selection Box</em> chocolates on Christmas morning.
17/12/2014 15:40 GMT

Halloween Sex Kittens Suck More Than a Vampire

By all means, wear what the chuff you like and let your nethers loose in the moonlight. If getting your baps out is an integral part of your Halloween, that's fine, but at least show a bit of creativity and the ability not to take yourself so bastard seriously.
04/11/2013 15:05 GMT

The Land of Stilts and Honey(moon)

I have first-hand experience of how cheesed-off Adam and Eve felt after they were booted from the Garden of Eden, because I too was forced to leave Bounty advert perfection in The Maldives - and I never so much as looked at a <em>Granny Smith.</em>
14/10/2013 14:11 BST

The Shark Side of the 'Moon

I am grimly accepting the fact that a Bloody Mary is no longer an acceptable breakfast, I must wear shoes and clothes again and won't find a dazed, melon-wedge grin on my chops whenever I look in the mirror.
14/10/2013 14:11 BST

A Toast to Plonk and Roman Plonkers

I determined to nerd up on vino and give old Bacchus a run for his money, ahead of our wedding, because nobody would be wrapping ties around heads or knee-sliding across the dancefloor without a few, potent grapes in their tums.
02/10/2013 12:53 BST

Operation Don't Look Like Princess Fiona for Your Wedding

Passing him the brush, she breezily announced: "I've got some gossip. I've booked myself an amazing holiday to the Rainforest on the weekend of your wedding and won't be able to do your hair. So Mario here will be doing the honours instead." My hair wilted in dismay...
30/09/2013 13:19 BST

Hen Party II: The Really Wild Show (PG Rating)

I couldn't have fist-pumped the air any harder when Packham's pecker was unveiled (without assistance) and he presented us with charcoals and pencils for life drawing. He clearly thought I'd never seen a pencil before.
02/09/2013 15:27 BST

An Open Apology to Germany - Ich Bin Ein Hen

My Berlin hen weekend was the most terrifying thing to happen to Germany since World War II. And that makes me as proud as a hen who has laid a particularly fine egg... none of my hens laid so much as an egg, although we did see a few Berliners taking the sexy bullet on our behalves.
27/08/2013 13:16 BST

Wedding Dresses: A Thinly Veiled Threat

Bridal sample sales are hell on toast and I can't recommend them less. They are shorter notice than a sneeze and generally occur during working hours, so you need to drag in the old lady with kind eyes and matching socks that you passed in the street, to assist.
09/04/2013 17:21 BST

Orlando Hope and Glory

Ah, Orlando... brimming with the American Dream. And judging by the cuddly Yanks surrounding me, most of them dream about cake. The American Dream takes the biscuit and every other fattening snack. It leaves you star-spangled in bed the following morning, covered in feathers with a rictus grin pressed against the duvet.
05/04/2013 18:25 BST

Mum's Gone to Iceland, Because It's Crap Over Here

Icelandic Christmases stand out like a good deed in a naughty world and ever since I've returned from there, I'm droopy with the realisation that Blighty's is anaemic, commercial and sucky in comparison.
13/12/2011 22:41 GMT

Tick-Tocked off by the Biological Clock

If I was on benefits, I'd have a bowl bulging with fruits from my loins and a free nest, for my troubles. Likewise, if I was a double-barrled posho, I'd have Jaspers and Hermiones coming out of every orifice, before you could say "sun-blushed tomato." We middling types pay their taxes and remain sprogless.
31/10/2011 23:23 GMT

Little and Large are Both Losers

There appeared to be a fleshy backlash against weighing less than an atom and twirling in front of Anna Wintour's enduring bob, thanks to a picture of stunning Mad Men star Christina Hendricks flashing her Devil's Crumpets beside a bijou Sarah Jessica-Parker.
22/09/2011 00:06 BST

Grandad and the African St Francis

My grandad, Donald Burt was a massive wow, with red wine, paint and stories bulging in his ample belly... along with heroic amounts of pickled onions and cheese. He sadly passed away last year, but has left enough incredible tales to wear a quill down to a molten stem.
06/09/2011 00:02 BST