Meet the Ibiza raver whose haircut went viral
A video showcasing Kay's blunt bowl haircut, sunglasses, and gold chain amassed over 18 million views, leading to his image being widely used in memes and further viral clips.
Major brands including Currys, Greggs, and Booking.com capitalised on his popularity, with Booking.com offering him an extended stay in Ibiza.
Kay, 26, has embraced his newfound celebrity, establishing his own social media accounts and expressing his surprise as "just a normal person from Newcastle."
He has reportedly signed with talent agency Neon Management, which plans for him to go on tour, further leveraging his viral status.
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Daily Mirror
an hour ago
- Daily Mirror
'My mum was a dinner lady – here's how to make nostalgic sponge cake that everyone loved'
Have a hankering for a fluffy school dinner sponge cake with a side of delicious custard? Look no further than this viral TikTok recipe the Internet is drooling over The daughter of a school dinner lady has gone viral on TikTok after sharing her mum's nostalgic sponge cake recipe. There are few things that will bring you back to your childhood quite like a school dinner. But it can be hard to get the taste exactly right, even when you try to recreate them at home. Fortunately, this beloved sponge cake recipe is reminiscent of the exact tray bake that kids would line up for at lunch time - and has only five ingredients. The video was posted under the username @katekeo quickly racked up over 425,000 views – indicating the popularity of the age-old tea time staple. Kate said in her viral TikTok: "This looks just like the one we had at school' and held up a slice of the yellow sponge which was paired with a classic pink custard. She added: "It's bringing back so many memories.' She revealed that her mum used to be a school kitchen assistant and so had 'insider recipes' to hand. Despite having just "rice pudding and tapioca" on offer during her own school days, her mum still remembered how to make the sponge dessert. Commenters were quick to gush over the recipe. 'It looks absolutely delicious,' one wrote. 'Now this was the number one school dessert for me!' a second added. "I tried your recipe it's amazing," a third chimed in. They added: "My two sons love it so much." Others wished that they had this treat on offer at school nowadays. 'Why does the older generation have all the good desserts,' one commenter said. How to make a school sponge Ingredients For the sponge: 280g unsalted butter 280g golden caster sugar 280g self-raising flour 5 eggs 2 tsp Madagascan vanilla extract Method Place the butter and caster sugar in a bowl. Mix it together until pale and fluffy Add the eggs and vanilla essence Sieve in the self raising flour and mix all of the ingredients together Pour the mixture onto a baking tray and bake for 30-35 minutes until golden Combine the icing sugar and water in a bowl until it turns to a liquid consistency Turn over the cake and ice the flat side. Then add sprinkles Add a splash of food colouring to the custard, heat it up in the microwave and then serve
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
How scary can theatre really be? My horror marathon in search of stage frights
I am a wimp. When my friends used to gather to screech over horror movies after school, I would sit watching Countdown with one of their mums until it was over. I had to watch The Blair Witch Project with all the lights on and I never got through the opening scene of The Ring. But when it comes to horror on stage, I've rarely been fazed. Bar the odd jump scare, how scary can theatre really be? I set out to find out by watching a full day of horror shows at the Edinburgh fringe. I start off gently with Elysium, a winding eat-the-rich tale told through lilting song. The gated community of Elysium Court is designed to keep the riff-raff out, but the inhabitants should be more worried about what they're locking in. With the air of two friends casually making music in their garage, Milly Blue and Jessie Maryon Davies of Ghouls Aloud unpack the concept that exclusivity equals safety, watching from a distance as the containment crushes everyone in Elysium Court into the same make and model – or destroys them if they attempt to stand out. Blue's storytelling is sweet and unsettling, though occasionally veers off into tangents that don't serve the story. Davies laces tension through with moody piano, with Blue looping her voice in climbing harmonies above, as strange events begin to haunt Elysium's newest resident. Digging into the soil beneath the standard-issue astroturf that clamps down every garden in the Court, old monsters start to emerge. The darkness creeps in slowly and the script wants tightening, with some songs pausing the action rather than driving it on, but I decide I like my horror being sung to me. Maybe this was the problem all along. From the candy-pink satire of Elysium, the pitch-black Scatter: A Horror Play couldn't be a sharper shift. The room is so dark it's a struggle to even find your seat. This low lighting continues as Patrick McPherson's jaw-clenching show of hereditary haunting reserves any bright light for blinding flashes. Liberally smattered with jump scares, the show sometimes leans so heavily on Will Hayman's intense shadows and sharp, saturated filters that the design comes to feel like the main event rather than an anchor to sink us deeper into the story. McPherson plays Tom, a young man reluctantly recounting the trip he and his brother took to scatter their father's ashes in rural Wales. In the predictably traumatising process, they discover that their dad's end-of-life aggression, previously brushed off as delirium, was something far more sinister, his acts of violence actually a deeply troubled form of protection. Jonny Harvey's direction makes repeated use of the classic torch sweeping around a blackened room and heavy, breathless silences followed by piercing, sinew-shaking screams. These old tricks are effective. I sink into my seat every time the torch winds up. A traditional folk horror, Scatter takes itself seriously. You can't help wondering if the balance of tension would intensify if some lightness was buried anywhere in the text; McPherson's performance, though convincing, starts off dour and stays similarly severe throughout. The ending is rushed, but Scatter sets out to scare, and it succeeds. As we pick our way out of the theatre, my heart takes a moment to return to its regular pace. Later that afternoon, in another about-turn, Jed Mathre does a stellar job of making a whole room want to punch him in the face. Melanie Godsey's existential comedy, Sponsored By the Void, offers a queer awakening through the form of a supernatural visitor. Mathre plays the emotionally illiterate boyfriend to Leah (Kelly Karcher) who is so overburdened by his uselessness that she's close to bursting. When The Void (Jennifer Ewing) waltzes in, Leah is immediately felled by her hot dom energy and her demand that Leah does exactly what she wants. 'Do you eat?' Leah asks her, quivering. 'I devour,' The Void replies. Created by Seattle-based company The Co-Conspirators, this goofy, sultry sci-fi horror revels in Leah's uncompromising newfound confidence, with Kennedy looking on in horror and Leah's friend Val (Be Russell, funny to her bones) watching with delight as she rejects everything she has previously accepted without resistance. Subservience to men is the real horror here. Eschewing subtleness, the play asks direct questions of how a woman can get trapped into a role she never asked for, and how she can – with support of a sexy, suited-up otherworldly entity – break her way out of it. 'I just want you to know what you're getting into,' David Alnwick says as he pops his head around the door, checking we're not actually here for the musical cabaret going on upstairs, before leaping to the side of the stage to fiddle with the video setup. Where a handful of these horror shows use film to enhance the spookiness, Alnwick's The Dare Witch Project is the only one to rely on it. Soldiering through technical issues, our eager host talks us through the footage he supposedly found in an old VHS he got off eBay. The man in the recordings looks surprisingly like him, with his clothes and his voice, and a determination to complete a challenge inspired by the infamous found-footage movie The Blair Witch Project. While most of the tension from this Free Fringe show comes from the screen, as Alnwick presents these clips of the mysterious doppelganger recording himself in the woods, there is a singular, inspired physical magic trick used to beautifully creepy effect. The looping inevitability built into the show mounts tension as we wait, nervously, for what we know is coming, but it takes too long to get there to truly shake any nerves. I find myself wanting to be more scared than I am. Perhaps I'm becoming a horror convert after all. The last show of the evening is the least terrifying. Maria Teresa Creasey's toothless attempt at a vampiric comedy-horror, Degenerate, begins ominously, as the writer-performer lies face-down, bound and gagged, waiting for one of us to untie her. But that's the end of the innovation. Pitched as experimental, Creasey's babbling speech acts like a fly being swatted, scattily returning to a smattering of ideas but never settling long enough to offer a performance worth our time. Hazily buzzing around the notion of women being deemed irrelevant as they age, Creasey's character eventually flits towards the eternal youth of the vampire and lip-syncs to clips of scary movies. She wants to last for ever. I'm glad this performance does not. Elysium is at Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower until 24 August; Scatter: A Horror Play is at Underbelly, Cowgate, until 24 August; Sponsored By the Void is at Greenside @ Riddles Court until 16 August; David Alnwick: The Dare Witch Project is at PBH's Free Fringe @ Voodoo Rooms until 24 August; Degenerate is at Pleasance Courtyard until 23 August
Daily Mirror
2 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
99 Flake name origin explained in full and it has nothing to do with price
In a bid to beat the heat, many of us will indulge in an ice cream or two to help cool down - but do you know how the iconic soft serve got it's name as a 99 Flake? Another heatwave is blasting across the UK – with weather experts predicting temperatures of 31C in some spots are "quite likely". So in a bid to cool down, many of us will turn to an ice cream, to be enjoyed while sat in the sun and Mr Whippy vans serve up a treasure trove of frozen delights as they cruise our neighbourhoods – from classic Fabs to vibrant Twisters and Fruit Pastille ice lollies. But 99 Flakes remain the ultimate crowd-pleaser from their entire selection. Despite munching on these creamy treats for generations, there are surprising truths about them that folks are only now discovering. One of the biggest myths is that they're dubbed 99 Flakes because of their once rock-bottom price. However, the numeric name was actually chosen by Cadbury. You'll have spotted that 99s exclusively describe ice creams topped with a chocolate flake, an innovation from the British confectionery giant dating back to 1930. The Cadbury website explains that '99' was selected to charm Italian residents in the UK. It carries overtones of being the 'cream of the crop', making the pudding sound utterly special. A company representative said: "An ice cream served in a cone with a Flake 99 is the UK's favourite ice cream. In the days of the monarchy in Italy the King had an elite guard consisting of 99 soldiers. Subsequently anything really special or first class was known as '99'. "When Cadbury launched its small Flake for ice creams in 1930, the UK ice cream industry was dominated by ex-pat Italians. So, to appeal to Italians we called our superb Flake a '99'." Fancy a deep dive into the history of 99 Flakes? Stick with us – we've got all the scoop you need. In an eye-opening chat, a legal boffin spilled the beans on 'exactly' how much dosh Mr Whippy vans rake in from dishing out classic 99 ice creams. And for those with a sweet tooth, brace yourselves – the revelation of the full sugar content in these chocolate delights has left many reeling. It's enough to make you ponder before you polish off a few too many in one sitting! The law expert, who goes by @ matthewfresco online, took to TikTok to break down the costs of the seasonal snack, as he said: "How much does Mr Whippy make when you buy an ice cream, it's £1.19. This vanilla flavoured soft serve ice cream with a chocolate flake served in a cone cost me £2.50." He then pointed out the alleged individual costs involved in making a single ice cream, as he continued: "The cone costs 4p, the half-sized Cadbury's chocolate flake costs 10p. Mr Whippy is the trade name of the soft mix ice cream made by Wall's, it's made from condensed milk, double cream and vanilla, which costs just 2p. "The soft serve machine freezes the mix and injects air. Soft serve is soft, creamy, slow to melt and not mad cold. Half your ice cream is fresh air, that's free, but the machine costs you 3p. To power the machine you've got to run the engine all day, that fuel costs you 53p. That diesel van costs you 9p." That's not all, as Mat added the other costs involved: "Trading license is 1p. Scoops, tubs, spoons are 1p. Insurance is 2p and wages are another 2p." He pointed out that ice cream cones are zero-rated VAT as they are classed as a biscuit, but not when "it's covered in chocolate". Mat said: "VAT at 20 per cent making it 42p. Mr Whippy makes £1.19 when you buy a 99. "A good van like this one can sell 600 ice creams on a sunny day, making £44,000 a year. There's 5,103 ice cream vans in the UK, churning over a cool £220,000,000 a year." The ice cream expert hailed the profit-making business as "fantastic", adding: "There's no cooking, no packaging, no waste, no advertising costs - just play the chimes. We love that music but local councils don't."
