
Oh dear. Sam Worthington and Lara Bingle Worthington got in a spot of bother yesterday.
They are home in Sydney, bringing their improbably-named offspring Rocket Zot back to meet the grandparents, and they just want to get on with their day. You know, seeking out the city’s premium green smoothies, attending to outstanding parking tickets, normal stuff.
But they can’t. They can’t because everywhere they go, people want to take their picture.
Dodgy dudes trail them with long lenses, an ant-trail of cars crawl after them through the eastern suburbs’ narrow streets, rude men try to trip them up as they head into their Woolahra baby yoga class. It’s intolerable.
Sam has had enough. Yesterday he called the police – who were doubtless just sitting around, eating doughnuts and filing their nails – and asked them to do something about the men who were trying to snap his Rocket.
“They could be planning to kidnap my child, they don’t say who they are,” he is reported to have told the cops.
“This is provocation bordering on paedophilia. Because you can take those photos and put them on the internet.”
And to the paps? “If you don’t know that that is akin to that, well, I don’t know what kind of humans you are.”
He really has a point. Worthington has just settled out of court with another dubious human being in New York. The actor had to pay NYC pap Sheng Li an undisclosed sum to go away and stop insisting that the movie star had kicked him, preventing the pap from earning a living stalking photographing other super-famous people who were just trying to go get an egg-white omelette and a cuppa cold-drip.