Latest news with #Shelley
The Sun
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Sun
I was UK's most hated man & wanted to die after £1K-a-week drug binges… my daughter's birth is a blur says Dapper Laughs
SLUMPED on his knees, sobbing uncontrollable in a Marbella hotel room, shock comic Dapper Laughs realised he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Days earlier, his glamour model wife of three months stormed out and banned him from seeing their two kids over his skyrocketing cocaine usage and excessive boozing. 14 14 At the time, he was splurging £1,000-a-week on the Class A drug, snorting up to four grams a session, and downing up to three bottles of wine or 10 pints and shots of tequila per night. But instead of flying home after the explosive row in October 2022, which followed benders lasting days, the comedian - real name Daniel O'Reilly - partied on for five more days. Now 1,000 days sober, the London-born funnyman says it was the 'darkest moment of my life' in an unflinchingly honest interview with The Sun. He reveals the deadly debauchery that was 'destroying my family', the 'hell' of bring homeless and living on a blow-up bed and what led him to finally accept the blame for being cancelled over his controversial comedy routines. Daniel, now 41, tells us: 'The night before we went to Spain, Shelley was begging me to stop drinking and using drugs, and said, 'I don't want to come to Marbella with you if you're going to be a mess, can you stop now?' 'I promised I would but as soon as we landed I started. I was an addict. Later she told me, 'You're not welcome back at home and you can't see the kids until you sort yourself out'. 'She flew home but I still stayed out there for four or five days partying as if nothing was wrong, like I didn't have a care in the world, in denial and not thinking about what I had done. 'It only hit on the final day, I was in my hotel room on my knees, crying my eyes out, thinking 'I can't go home, do I stay and continue taking drugs? Do I take my own life?'' Daniel's addiction had been steadily escalating for years - dating back to the height of his career in 2014, before he was cancelled over his risque jokes. Under his alter-ego Dapper Laughs, who was based on 'heightened, exaggerated versions' of his pals, he was the epitome of hedonistic, partying-obsessed "lad culture". 14 14 14 But his remarks, including saying that crying women were just 'playing hard to get' and gags that trivialised rape and sexual assault, sparked nationwide furore. In 2014, his ITV2 sketch show Dapper Laughs: On The Pull and multiple gigs across the UK were cancelled after a petition with 67,500 signatures, including those of Katherine Ryan and Jenny Eclair, calling to end his career. 'I was pushing it too far because it was causing so much controversy,' Daniel reflects. 'The likes, the followers, the ego, the attention, it all became an addiction. 'The more noise I made, the more tickets I sold. It all happened so fast. I was in my early 20s and very immature, very inconsiderate. I offended a lot of people.' Daniel became known as 'the most hated man in the UK' and was described by one reviewer as having 'torpedoed his own career'. His very public fall from grace saw his bad habits escalate from 'social use to a coping mechanism and addiction'. 'During that period I was extremely embarrassed, I wanted to escape myself and my life and alcohol became how I did it,' he says. 'I lost all my money, I couldn't work, I ended up losing my house. I started drinking and using drugs on my own, then the worse I felt the more I did it. I blamed the press. I blamed the industry. I blamed cancel culture and mob culture. I had to mature to realise all of this happened because of the way I behaved Daniel O'Reilly 'Then my father died in 2016 and I just couldn't handle life anymore. I broke up with my missus and was living above my dealer. 'Once I was up all night sniffing gear and thought about taking my own life. That's when I rang the Samaritans, and it still took me six years to get sober from that point.' In between that time, Daniel appeared on Celebrity Big Brother in 2018, in a failed bid to change public perceptions of him. Upon leaving the house, he proposed to Shelley on live TV. Four years later in 2022, and after just three months of marriage, his wife dumped him on the trip to Marbella, to attend to premiere for the film The Last Heist. 'Shortly after our honeymoon I kept telling my wife and myself that I would cut down and not use drugs, not go out on benders,' he says. 'But the more stressed I got, the more I drank until it was uncontrollable. My wife had enough of the hangovers, me coming in at all hours and not showing up for our family.' 'All-night binges' Despite being father to daughters Roux and Neve, then three and six, he would disappear for days at a time and was boozing or using drugs up to three times a week. 'I spent a lot of time pretending to be successful and a good father online but I was out drinking and taking drugs when I should have been learning to be a parent,' Daniel says. "I would explode and storm off to the pub or my wife and kids would get up in the morning and I would have been up all night doing cocaine.' The dangerous debauchery led Daniel to 'ruin family celebrations' and tainted beautiful moments like the births of his children and the couple's wedding. 14 14 14 'With my wedding it was a bit of a blur at the end, which was a shame,' he says. 'Drinking was a big part of the day and it saddens me seeing pictures that I don't remember. 'Wetting the baby's head were big ones and with both of my daughters' births, I went out with my friends and they turned into two-day benders when my wife needed me the most. 'They are painful memories around such beautiful memories. I hold a lot of shame and guilt for that. It's that pain that I sit with to keep sober today.' 'Like hell' When Daniel flew back to the UK from Marbella, he had been kicked out by Shelley and was forced to stay at his late grandparents' home, which was empty and in the process of being sold. It was there he would spend a week detoxing before going into rehab. 'It was like hell,' Daniel says. 'There was only a cross on the wall to stare at. There was no TV, no furniture, nothing apart from an inflatable mattress my uncle brought around. 'I remember crying uncontrollably, the only thing I could think was 'Let's get fucked, let's drink everything' but I knew after Marbella it had to stop. 'I was terrified to leave the house, fearing I would wander into a pub or see someone. I was desperate to drink despite alcohol having destroyed everything. 'I managed to abstain through a really difficult time. Any addict will tell you being in your own mind is horrific. It was the first step to recovery before entering rehab. 'But even then I still thought, 'Maybe I can still blag this, get her back, sort myself out and maybe still drink' now I realise that's not possible.' Daniel acknowledges he's 'always in recovery', more than 1,000 days into his sobriety, and 'still romantises' drinking and drug-taking at times. No longer using his vices to block out his demons, he did a lot of soul searching and began to own the mistakes which led to him being cancelled. Reflecting on how he used to behave and the jokes he used to tell, Daniel tells us: 'I watch back my lad culture content and cringe.' Daniel acknowledges he was 'pushing it too far' and instead of taking accountability in the past, he looked to outsource it onto others. He says: 'I blamed the press. I blamed the industry. I blamed cancel culture and mob culture. I had to mature to realise all of this happened because of the way I behaved. 'I was perceived as an evil, hateful person at the time but hand on my heart there was never any malice in what I said. I was just a kn*b. 'I never meant for my content to be triggering or upsetting, especially to those who have been victim to rape or sexual harassment, and from the bottom of my heart I apologise." 14 14 14 Rock bottom Daniel's far from alone in his struggles with men accounting for 75 per cent of all suicides in the UK, much of it down to the stigma around therapy and seeking help. This crisis led him to found the charity M.A.T.E. - standing for Men And Their Emotions - which has more than 50,000 members in a support group online. To raise money for it, Daniel is putting on Stand Up Comedy for M.A.T.E.'s + Men's Mental Health, which also stars Lee Nelson, at the Indigo in London's O2 Arena on July 18. It will fund more 'dry houses', which are alcohol and substance free homes for recovering addicts, and help others to access counselling online. 'It's like a free rehab,' Daniel says. 'Because traditional rehab is too expensive for the average working class man and to support people's mental health.' He believes the UK is amid an alcohol addiction crisis partially because 'it's our culture to drink at every opportunity' but that comes at a cost. I was terrified to leave the house, fearing I would wander into a pub or see someone. I was desperate to drink despite alcohol having destroyed everything Daniel 'It was only once I hit two massive rock bottoms that I realised I was destroying my family and the very thing that was 'helping me cope' was causing that destruction," he says. Now with 1,000 days of sobriety under his belt, as of last week, he can't quite believe how much his life has changed in that time. He was reunited with Shelley, who eventually opened up about the "trauma" he had put her through, although it took over a year to fully regain her trust. The couple have now had a third daughter and he has a fourth child on the way. 'I think it's a blessing that the poster boy of cancel culture around misogyny was gifted with three beautiful daughters - and maybe a fourth on the way," he says. "Is that not karma?' He says that sobriety has made him "present and a better father' adding: 'Before, in a week, I'd spend two or three days drinking and the rest of the time hungover and recovering.' In 2024, he also embarked on his first tour in seven years, sold out 60 shows and is launching another 70-date tour soon, as well as writing a film and script. 'Those are just some of the things that have happened In 1,000 days, I couldn't have done any of that if I wasn't sober,' Daniel says. 'It's mad and if that isn't proof that accountability and change is key, I don't know what it is.' Tickets for Daniel O'Reilly's charity fundraiser Stand Up Comedy for M.A.T.E.'s + Men's Mental Health can be found at: For his charity visit: 14
The Age
05-07-2025
- The Age
We can't leave our moral foundations to machines
Artificial intelligence sparks a vast spectrum of human expectation, from the apocalyptic – AI will become sentient and destroy us all – to the radiant hope of a vastly 'improved' humanity who will live much longer lives of ease and luxury. Many of the claims, both negative and positive, are doubtless accurate at the same time. There are benefits and costs, and only time will show how great each really is. AI has been called the biggest shift in information production since the printing press. It is certainly revolutionising our economic and social lives, and I confess to both uncertainty and trepidation. Science fiction writer Isaac Asimov was hugely optimistic with his 'three laws of robotics' in 1942, but the history of technological change shows the poet Shelley, too, had a point: 'The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.' Two interesting recent examples come from the legal realm. In March, a study of hypothetical decisions by 31 US federal judges compared with judgments delivered by AI showed the latter was far more rigid and less sympathetic to personal circumstances, even when programmed to be compassionate. In May, in Arizona, the sister of a man killed in a road rage attack programmed AI to give her brother a voice from beyond the grave at the killer's trial. AI was used to generate a moving image of him delivering a statement to the accused. The victim statement urged forgiveness, which impressed the judge. Nine newspapers last week ran an important article on AI companions, both the rewards and risks, in which teens especially can become dependent at the cost of real relationships. The key thing about AI is the first word – it is 'artificial'. It is brilliant at managing vast amounts of data very quickly. But it cannot create from a vacuum, only from what is fed into it. When AI does try to create, it can be embarrassing, as with the American freelance journalist, featured on the ABC's Media Watch recently, who got AI to write a newspaper feature on 25 books for summer reading. The problem was that half the books didn't exist; AI simply invented them. Most importantly, AI cannot be our source of moral authority. It can have no sense of the sacred or even human dignity. However efficient AI might be, there is a moral and spiritual dimension to human life that requires human guardianship. We can't leave our moral foundations to machines, nor our concept of good or flourishing or human relationships. Christians believe that moral and rational agency is part of being created in the image of God – all humans have this, whether religious or not. It is a responsibility we cannot abnegate.
Sydney Morning Herald
05-07-2025
- Sydney Morning Herald
We can't leave our moral foundations to machines
Artificial intelligence sparks a vast spectrum of human expectation, from the apocalyptic – AI will become sentient and destroy us all – to the radiant hope of a vastly 'improved' humanity who will live much longer lives of ease and luxury. Many of the claims, both negative and positive, are doubtless accurate at the same time. There are benefits and costs, and only time will show how great each really is. AI has been called the biggest shift in information production since the printing press. It is certainly revolutionising our economic and social lives, and I confess to both uncertainty and trepidation. Science fiction writer Isaac Asimov was hugely optimistic with his 'three laws of robotics' in 1942, but the history of technological change shows the poet Shelley, too, had a point: 'The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.' Two interesting recent examples come from the legal realm. In March, a study of hypothetical decisions by 31 US federal judges compared with judgments delivered by AI showed the latter was far more rigid and less sympathetic to personal circumstances, even when programmed to be compassionate. In May, in Arizona, the sister of a man killed in a road rage attack programmed AI to give her brother a voice from beyond the grave at the killer's trial. AI was used to generate a moving image of him delivering a statement to the accused. The victim statement urged forgiveness, which impressed the judge. Nine newspapers last week ran an important article on AI companions, both the rewards and risks, in which teens especially can become dependent at the cost of real relationships. The key thing about AI is the first word – it is 'artificial'. It is brilliant at managing vast amounts of data very quickly. But it cannot create from a vacuum, only from what is fed into it. When AI does try to create, it can be embarrassing, as with the American freelance journalist, featured on the ABC's Media Watch recently, who got AI to write a newspaper feature on 25 books for summer reading. The problem was that half the books didn't exist; AI simply invented them. Most importantly, AI cannot be our source of moral authority. It can have no sense of the sacred or even human dignity. However efficient AI might be, there is a moral and spiritual dimension to human life that requires human guardianship. We can't leave our moral foundations to machines, nor our concept of good or flourishing or human relationships. Christians believe that moral and rational agency is part of being created in the image of God – all humans have this, whether religious or not. It is a responsibility we cannot abnegate.
Indianapolis Star
22-06-2025
- Health
- Indianapolis Star
He wanted to live long enough to see Pacers win NBA title. He died day before Game 7 at 48
INDIANAPOLIS -- Former Indiana Pacers photographer Matt Dial, whose friends rallied around him as he battled Stage 4 colon cancer to get him one last night inside his beloved Gainbridge Fieldhouse, wanted to live long enough to see his team win its first NBA Finals. Dial died early Saturday morning at Life Journey Hospice, just one day short of the Pacers' Game 7 at Oklahoma City on Sunday night. He is survived by his wife, Shelley, and two sons Noah and Aaron. "At 2:54 am, Matty passed on from this life. I was humbled by the bravery of Aaron, who was there until the end. Pat and Gary (Dial's parents) were champions and provided so much support through all of their own pain," Shelley posted to Dial's Caring Bridge page. "I appreciate them so much. The end was so hard for us." Shelley called Dial the best husband, father, son, partner and friend. "He is missed by all who knew him," she wrote, "especially me." It was February 2023 when doctors finally discovered the reason Dial had been losing so much weight without trying, why he wasn't hungry. He had a cecal mass that had spread to his abdominal lymph nodes and his liver. When Dial was first diagnosed, he started planning trips with his family to make memories. Not fancy trips. Better than that. Trips to Tennessee to see the mountains and one to Branson, Missouri, known as "the live entertainment capital of the world," because of all those shows and theaters. But, in the past year, the pain from the cancer and everything that treatments had done to his body became, at times, unbearable. In late May, Dial's friends and an army of people came together to give Dial a chance to make one last, beautiful Pacers memory with his family at Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Dial felt well enough to make the trip from his Zionsville home to Gainbridge for that historic, electric Game 6. "He's not able to travel as much, and that's why this game was so important," said Noah. "Because I never thought I'd get that chance to go with him again." Those who knew Dial called him a kind, wickedly smart, self-proclaimed technology nerd, lover of the Pacers and even moreso lover of his family and friends. They were all fiercely hoping that Dial lived long enough to see his Pacers win an NBA title. "I was going to cry anyway (if they won it), but I would cry even more because, you know, he's been waiting for this. And he might not see another run," Dial's son Noah, 25, told IndyStar earlier this month. "When we get through this and we win the championship, it's going be a memory I'll always cherish." There will be no funeral for Dial, at his request, Shelley wrote. Just a party to celebrate him. "Thank you to all our friends and family who have stepped up so much in the last difficult weeks," Shelley wrote. "I love you."
The Hindu
21-06-2025
- Business
- The Hindu
Among the very few Parsis living in Delhi, Shelley Subawalla handcrafts and sells traditional spices from home to keep her community's traditions alive
'For every spice mix that I sell, I give a recipe on how to make the dish. So even a non-Parsi can make a popular dish such as the Dhansak (meat cooked with lentil and vegetables). 'It helps me keep our community's traditions alive,' says Shelley Subawalla, showing the various Parsi spice mixes, the Befuna achaar, and other products she prepares and delivers to her customers in India and abroad. An Entrepreneur from the Parsi community in the city, Shelley started a Parsi spice mix brand named Zarin's Secrets with four spice mixes. She learnt the recipes from her grandmother Zarin and named it after her. A mother of two, Shelley started this venture in 2015 when her kids grew up. 'I wanted to preserve and make the recipes accessible to the new generation,' she says. Shelley says she is keen to break the stereotype that Parsi cuisine is exotic. 'The food is actually quite similar to several other Indian cuisines, sometimes the spices used are also the same; it is just the proportion you mix that makes it distinct,' she says. Her business started gaining attention when people from her own community started reaching out to her. Many even shared their heirloom recipes with her. . 'I realised how each family has its own heritage to safeguard. I kept expanding my portfolio based on inputs from different Parsi families and today I sell 80 products that include powdered spice mixes and pickles,' she says. Shelley says each traditional Parsi dish has some meaning attached to it based on the cultural values of the community. For instance, the Dhansak, which every Parsi loves on their menu, cannot be made on auspicious days; it is kind of a wholesome meal related to mourning. She says, it is difficult to take away the cultural annotations food holds. 'I make Dhansak regularly at home every Sunday. But if the day coincides with somebody's birthday in the family or any other auspicious event, then I do not cook it, ' she explains. Speaking about the pickles she makes, Shelly says her favourites is the iconic Parsi pickle bafenu. 'Bafenu is an entire Alfonso mango, which is first cooked and then pickled. Parsi achaars are a blend of sweet, sour, and spicy flavours,' she says. Shelley rues that not only has the Parsi community shrunk in size but along with that, many traditions and recipes have reached the verge of extinction. 'The youngsters are not interested in ancient traditions or recipes as they are busy with their professional commitments. They always look for something that can be ready in 10 minutes and some of these traditional dishes could be time consuming. So I like to keep the traditions alive for them with ready spice mixes. And when the word spreads, people outside our community also become aware of our existence,' she says. Shelley points out that the dwindling Parsi population is also aging. For them to move around in a city like Delhi is not easy. So when I send them the traditional Parsi spice mixes, there is a connect.' The Parsi population in Delhi, according to the Members Directory 2023 of the Delhi Parsi Anjuman (DPA) lists 470 individuals in the city. With the various combinations of her easy-to-cook-with Parsi spice mixes, Shelley hopes Parsi cuisine will not fade out. 'As long as people love food and love to experiment, there is hope,' she says.
