Dazed and Confuzzled

I must be mad

2007-06-19T17:33:00.001+01:00

Thought I'd give blogging another shot.

I've been really busy of late and allowed the blog to just fade away which I shouldn't have.

Anyway I've got myself unpaid work on a national (Scottish) newspaper so I'm now feeling rather published.

It's great but it'd be even better if I was being paid for it.

For now here's a little video to entertain you,

It worries me how believable this is.

(Lincoln is voiced by none other than Hulk Hogan)

Giving in to Scottish sterotypes.

2006-11-12T16:43:00.000Z

It's Saturday night. I'm hungry, waiting for my Chinese takeaway to arrive. The doorbell rings and I answer, happy to see that it's the delivery driver with my food.

A large moth flies out of my purse as I open it.

How the hell did it get in there?

...That mocking feeling is not going away.

Red Flag Day.

2006-11-10T16:34:00.000Z

I walk through the torrential rain, looking more like I've been for a fully clothed swim than to the local shops. An ice cream van drives past, splashing me in a wave of puddle water. The van cheerily playing 'I do like to be beside the sea side' on it's loudspeaker.

I think...

Someone, somewhere, is mocking me.

Samhain Spooks

2006-10-31T17:09:00.000Z

Happy Halloween everyone!

So it's that time of year again, the night when the veil between our world and the next is at it's thinnest and the spooky things come out to play. Or at least in my street it's the night when the kids come knocking on my door looking for sweeties.

I must say I've had a few experiences with things that go bump in the night. My best friend's childhood home was definitely haunted.* There were at least two ghosts that enjoyed making life interesting for her family and their visitors. The first was actually in my best friends room, the second downstairs on the ground floor of the building.

She and her family had lived (and died) in this house for generations. A huge town house of at least 200 years in age they had revamped it so that they could run a business from the ground floor, with family bedrooms situated on the second level and the living room and kitchen on the third floor. My friend stayed in an apartment sized room in the attic, in what would have been the servant quarters.

It started off quietly at first, noises in her room, like someone coughing or rummaging through her things. Then the lights would turn themselves on and off. To sort the problem her parents had the place re-wired to no avail. Things would get moved about when there was no one there to have moved them and would go missing only to turn up again in plain sight.

Her stereo was the strangest thing. It would turn on by itself. It was an old stereo and we just assumed it had gone a bit wonky. She got a new top of the range three CD changer to replace it. Suddenly it upped a level. The stereo would turn itself on, play a track from one CD, switch to another CD play a couple of songs from the middle of an album and then move on to the next disk. It seemed to have favourite songs, ones that it would play more than any others, Sigur Ros was particularly popular. There is no technical explanation for what happened, not a power surge - nothing. Once it played when it wasn't even plugged in. It could get really annoying (especially when it started blasting at full volume in the middle of the night) but if you asked it politely to stop playing it would, but shouting at it never worked. She obviously had a ghost that believed in manners. It could be decidedly unsettling, yet in all the years that she lived there we never once felt afraid up in that room.

Downstairs was a different matter.

There were cold spots downstairs. A tall, thin man dressed in black was spotted regularly, even by people who were the strictest non believers. One friend- an atheist- was so scared by what he had encountered there that he refused to go downstairs alone.

One night after returning from the cinema (sober I might add), my friend waited for me by the front door as I ran to use the bathroom along the hall. As I walked back towards her I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks. I had become ice cold, but not from a draft. The only way to describe it is that I became cold from the inside out. Colder than I have ever felt in my life. I could feel and hear someone breathing on my shoulder. I bolted. Reached my friend and spun around, wondering if her older brother was playing a trick on me, but there was no one there. She had seen nothing, but said that I had stopped deadly still for about 2 seconds, almost like a cat that has it's hackles raised, and then ran faster than she'd ever seen me move in her life.

To this day I refuse to be in that hallway with the lights out.

So, do any of you have any spooky experiences to share on All Hallows Eve?

*I know what you are thinking, and no, I'm not mental.

Taking Back The Idiot Box.

2006-10-25T16:40:00.000+01:00

Last month the TV series 'Studio Sixty On The Sunset Strip' aired for the first time in the US.

It depicts the 'behind the scenes' production of a live late night comedy show in a similar vein to Saturday Night Live. Created and written by Aaron Sorkin, the man who brought the West Wing to our screens, it boasts an excellent cast, lavish production and sharp dialogue. What could go wrong? A lot. According to some reviews I have read.

It has repeatedly been lambasted as; too pleased with itself, too clever for its own good, self indulgent rubbish et cetera, et cetera. This is discounting the furor it has caused in the right wing religious press. I would post a link to that, however I can't bring myself to connect my blog in any way to those fundamentalist bigots. Needless to say L. Brent Bozell III, the head of the Conservative Communications Center has been having his say.

So why has it been so poorly received by so many in the liberal media? It shares so many of the defining characteristics that made The West Wing so successful. The dialogue is generally superb, (even I will admit that there have been a couple of lines that clunked) the acting is top notch, provided by a dream cast. The characters are believable and multi-layered. The direction, lighting and camera work is faultless.

What is really rubbing people up the wrong way is the fact that Sorkin is attempting to bestow a similar level of importance and idealism onto television as he did with politics in West Wing.

This is what people have a problem with. My question is, why should they?

There has been a fair amount of talk about television in the blogging world of late. Is it relevant? Do people even watch television in the traditional manner anymore? Does television matter?

Television IS important. It is vitally important, even in this digital age when news is readily available online. The reason for this is because even though all this digital news, comment and debate is available to people, so few actually seek it out. Television is still the main route to the masses.

It is the main source of education available today, yet we are being fed a menu of lobotomised rubbish.

So what is wrong with wanting Television to be of a high quality and of a certain level of intelligence? As a friend said to me recently after watching an episode of West Wing, "In the age of reality TV it is refreshing to watch a programme that you know was written by people much smarter than yourself."

This is not always the case, TV need not be 'high-brow', or even 'mid-brow' to be enjoyable, and I will readily admit to enjoying the occasional reality show (not Big Brother I hasten to add). However, why shouldn't we have more television that doesn't insult our collective intelligence?

Why shouldn't we ask for it, or at least allow a television writer such as Sorkin to speak out on our behalf?

I don't know a soul who doesn't wish that the President of The United States was more like Martin Sheen's Josiah Bartlet, so why shouldn't we wish that television was more like 'Studio Sixty'? Why do we buy the ideal in a programme about politics, but not in entertainment?

Here's an edited excerpt from the speech made by a disgruntled 'producer' at the start of the Studio Sixty Pilot...

"This show used to be cutting edge political and social satire, but it's gotten lobotomized by a candy-ass broadcast network hell-bent on doing nothing that might challenge their audience.

There's always been a struggle between art and commerce, but now I'm telling you art is getting is ass kicked, and it's making us mean, and it's making us bitchy, and it's making us cheap punks and that's not who we are."

So why don't we give the people who want to provide us with quality entertainment a chance, and get off their backs? I think that we should let them be clever, for our own good.

Back

2006-10-24T22:11:00.000+01:00

The wanderer has returned.

Actually I've not wandered very far, the aforementioned bump to the knee (falling out a car whilst stone cold sober) turned into something more serious and I may have cracked some cartilage.

So I've been hobbling about feeling sorry for myself.

Also on a driving lesson update, I can now turn corners and go around a round-about. Woohoo.

I'm annoyed at myself for letting my blogging fall to the wayside of late and I fully intend to blog at least once every couple of days in future. No more lax blogging allowed.

More from me tomorrow, hopefully it will be slightly more coherent than this ramble.

Newsflash: 51 School Children Mown Down By Crazed Learner Driver

2006-10-10T16:21:00.000+01:00

I'm about to go for my first driving lesson.

The world's gone mad, letting someone as disaster prone as I am behind the wheels of a car.

God help us all, especially the other road users.

My aim is to not kill anybody, especially my instructor.
Or school children.

I really hope that the poor sod teaching me knows what he's getting himself in for.

Cars don't like me, I got my foot caught on the seatbelt getting out of my brother's car last night and fell out face first. I now have a grazed knee that is a lovely shade of purple from the bruising and a sore ankle. Never let it be said that I am graceful.

I'll report back in an hour if I survive, if not look out for headlines like the one above.

Eeek.

UPDATE: The lesson is over and no one is dead (that I know of).

I am counting this as a huge personal victory.
.

I can now drive in a straight line. Hurrah!

I really should have learned to drive back when I was 17 and fearless.

Caught in A Rainstorm

2006-10-03T00:24:00.000+01:00

Coming back to the city. That I never quite leave.

Picture you be the ocean. Picture me coughing into my sleeve.

Like a snake eating snake you confuse me. Who's killer. Who's captive. Who's free.

In a city that kills by constriction. Throw your streets around me and squeeze.

And draw down the stars. Draw down the stars.

What's in your heart?*

I love Glasgow, even when it's raining.

* Lyrics from Tom McRae's Draw Down The Stars.

Hopping on the bandwagon.

2006-09-28T13:58:00.001+01:00

According to this site (as originally brought to my attention by the lovely Jools) I look like...

So from left to right we have Natalie Wood, she who slept with Elvis and then died in suspicious circumstances involving Christopher Walken.

Then Sophie Marceau, the hottie in Braveheart and French charm ambassador to East Asia.

Helena Christansen, supermodel.

Emily Browning, actress most famous for her role as Violet Baudelaire in Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Halle Berry, star of Catwoman, X-Men or more importantly in my book, The Last Boy Scout.

And finally Christie Brinkley, supermodel and ex-wife of Billy Joel. Interestingly she can now be found as a spokesperson, alongside the mighty Chuck Norris on infomercials for a "Total Gym" Fitness program.

Really though I think the thing has been rather kind, I *wish* I looked like any of those ladies!

Mad as a balloon you say?

2006-09-22T21:52:00.000+01:00

A couple of weeks ago I went out for some drinks with friends who in turn brought some of their own friends along. I spent a pleasant evening chatting and drinking with everyone.

Yesterday I was talking to my friend. He told me that one of the guys I had been talking to that night had mentioned me. I asked what he had said. The response...

He said that you're "pretty but completely bonkers".

What a brilliant contumely compliment!

So my little blogarinos... what's the best compliment and worst insult you've recieved?

Eeek!

2006-09-20T21:51:00.000+01:00

I got up at an ungodly hour today (5am) to get ready for work and for me, everything was going smoothly. I showered, dried my hair, did my makeup, got dressed, had breakfast and put on my coat.

I was thirsty and still had a couple of minutes before I had to leave so I went to get a quick drink of water. As I was filling my glass I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Something on the left lapel of my beautiful new red coat. I looked down.

I yelped, and pulled my coat off faster than I have ever undressed in my life.

It was a spider.

And not just any spider. It was the hugest spider I have ever seen in my life outside of a zoo.

And it was on me.

I'm grimacing and squirming just at the thought of it as I type.

So the coat was off and I flapped it and flapped it, and checked it and checked it for about 15 minutes but there was no sign of the spider. It must have fallen off and scuttled into some recess in the kitchen I told myself. So eventually, running late for work having missed my bus and facing a 20 minute wait in the storm raging outside, I put my coat back on and called a taxi.

My skin was crawling.

This was not helped by the taxi driver. I told him my tale of woe, and he told me the spider was on my hair. Again I yelped. The bastard laughed. Ha ha very funny I said.

I got to work and trudged up the stairs to face 10 more stupifying hours on my feet. I was in a foul mood. The taxi had cost me a tenner.

Getting into the locker room I stopped at the mirror and re-applied my lippy, had a quick skoosh of perfume and brushed my rain damp hair. I put my bag in my locker. I took off my coat.

The spider fell out.

Very much still alive.

And even bigger than I had realised.

It was the size of the palm of my hand, it's body was the same thickness as my thumb.

It had been on me all that time, I felt sick.

I stood on it.

It was dead.

Still my skin crawled.

Two hours later I went for my break, the locker room floor had not been swept. The dead spider was no longer there.

I thought I'd killed it, but did I?

To think I used to say I'm not scared of spiders.

Eeek!

A very poor Artists Reconstruction.

Nice

2006-09-14T13:25:00.000+01:00

I had a wonderful birthday. There was cake, ice cream and a visit to a museum to see mummies, Spitfires, elephants and some rather famous paintings. I also got a digital camera, as exemplified by my cloud photo (taken yesterday in my back garden). It has 5.1 mega pixels, which might be a tad more impressive if I actually knew what mega pixels are.

Anyway, this means you can expect this blog to be all pictured up now that I don't have to rely on my housemate's mobile phone.

On a different note...

I was proposed to yesterday.

By a customer in my work.

Aww, sweet you think?

Maybe, if he hadn't been a smelly* old man in a wheel chair.

He also said that I was like chocolate.

Because I'm nice and chocolate is nice.

I don't quite know what to make of that, although I do feel slightly disturbed.

BETA UPDATE: It has come to my attention that a few people are having problems commenting because of my recent switch over to Beta Blogger. There is a way around this, when you go to comment instead of signing in as a blogger choose Other and simply type in your name, it should then let you post the comment. Or, if you are feeling particularly furtive you could always be Anonymous.

*This is not just a casual insult. He actually smelled.

Smiles and Thanks

2006-09-10T13:46:00.000+01:00

It's my birthday tomorrow and already I've been lucky enough to recieve two wonderful virtual pressies from people online. I don't think they were meant as birthday gifts, in fact I don't think that those who gave them to me even realised that it was so close to my birthday, but I shall take them as such.

Some people hold stock in the price of presents. They think it can't be good enough if it didn't cost a fortune. These gifts were not expensive but in terms of value I think that they are priceless. They mean the world to me because someone took the time and effort to think about me and to make them for me. It's really touching to know that people care.

Molly's acrostic poem:

Here's to you Heather,
Erudite and kind,
Always good at pop quizzes,
Try not to be down about the job,
Help is always at hand,
Each of us will try and cheer you,
Right here by your side.

Jools' Collage*:

Molly and Jools, bless you both and thank you. I cannot tell you how much your pressies have cheered me up.

To have met so many wonderful people I would consider friends, this is a very happy birthday indeed. Thank you to everyone who has ever posted on here, you've all brightened my days.

Heather. xxx

*Of my favourite rock star Eddie Vedder.

Futile

2006-09-05T18:47:00.000+01:00

The Media Guardian Online has 1421 jobs advertised. 5 of those jobs are in Scotland. All are for advanced positions.

S1 Jobs.com has 29 Scottish media jobs advertised. Most are in graphic design. All require 2 or more years experience.

Holdthefrontpage.co.uk has 49 jobs. 2 are in Scotland. Both are in photography.

Jobcentreplus.gov.uk has 13 scottish media jobs. Most of them are for kitchen designers.

It all feels so hopeless.

I'm off to eat a pint of ice cream. Ice Cream is cheering.

(Will think of a title later.)

2006-08-31T22:41:00.000+01:00

It's Friday.

It's meme time.

It's Friday meme time!

And frankly I'm too kanackered* to write anything that makes any sense.

Stolen shamelessly from Dave at the rather excellent Life is an elaborate metaphor for Cricket is the name meme! Go on, have a go, you know you want to!

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet** and current street name)

Magic Maxwell

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your mum's side, your favourite candy)

Audrey Reese [as in Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Audrey Peanut Butter Cup doesn't have quite the same ring to it somehow].

3. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your middle name)

H-Is

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favourite colour, favourite animal)

Green Cat

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)

Isabel Glasgow

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of mum's maiden name and first 3 letters of the town you grew up in.)

Simhe Stgla [I'm a bit dissapointed by this, I would have hoped it would be a bit better.]

7. Terrorist Name: (middle name spelled backwards, your mum's maiden name spelled backwards).

lebasi trawets

8. SUPERHERO NAME: (your favourite colour, favourite drink) [I don’t think this one really works].

Green Jack (as in Jack Daniels)

9. PORN STAR NAME: (your first pet's name, your mum's maiden name.)

Magic Stewart. [Not bad huh?]

* Yes it's a typo, but it's rather good so I'm keeping it in.

** I'm doing this using the name of my first actual pet Magic the cat - rather cruelly ignoring the existance of my goldfish Kirk and Spock.

The Children Of The Night.

2006-08-31T17:43:00.000+01:00

Well, I've gone and done it again.
.
Yes, once more I have succeeded in freaking out my fellow commuters.
.
Sitting on the bus, headphones in listening to the Best Of Kate Bush.
Hounds of love came on.
.
"Tra la la la la", in my head.
.
"Ow ow ow ow" doggy hounds of love sounds in my head...
.
...or not so much.
.
Yes, dear readers I succeeded in singing the doggy barking noises out for the whole bus to hear.
.
This incident may have proved just how nuts I am, but exactly how mad is the woman who came up with the woofy song in the first place?
.
This has all brought to mind a tale I was once told by a very reputable source. This is for Molly Bloom and Rock Mother...

Kate Bush is in the recording studio with her session musicians working on an
album. Arseing about her bassist says "aww, go and put the kettle on love". She agrees and pootles on out not to return for hours.

Suddenly she makes her entrance.

Dressed as a giant tea pot.

Saying, "I asked for a kettle but this was all they had".

They say that there is a fine line between genius and insanity.
.
That woman walks it like a tightrope.

Meanwhile I'm still trying to find the line.
.

Endurance test.

2006-08-30T21:03:00.000+01:00

There is a girl in work who I really don't get on with. Unfortunately we seem to have very similar hours and are often stuck together for hours on end.

I try to make small talk but she just ends up irritating me.

I think that we just dont 'get' each other. I certainly don't 'get' her sense of humour. It's just mean. She'll say something nasty and then when you take offense she says "it was a joke" like I'm an idiot for not being able to tell in the first place. But you see it doesn't sound like a joke. It never sounds like a joke. She's just not funny. Or pleasant.

I don't really like her and she doesn't like me.

Yet we spend hours together.

We endure each other.

Hopefully not for long.

Whoops

2006-08-29T16:27:00.000+01:00

I must be insane.

Today I have the day off, the house to myself. So what do I do? Instead of lounging, maybe watching a movie, going for a relaxing swim?

I decide to redesign my blog.

Big Mistake.

It is unbelievably stressfull. This HTML stuff looks simple, but my god is it complicated. I still haven't figured half of it out. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going wrong, I've got the colours up, but I can't get the rounded edges of the posts to go round!

Also, it doesn't look anywhere near as good as I hoped it would. If any HTML experts out there would like to help me out I'd be eternally grateful. Oh and all constructive criticism will be welcomed.

UPDATE: Ok, so I've got it. Sort of. I think. It's not quite what I was going for* but it'll have to do. Still it's nice to have a blog that looks a wee bit individual. Let me know what you think.

*Ok, who am I kidding? - It's nothing like what I was going for.

Probably the most perfect man in the world Ever.

2006-08-28T21:17:00.000+01:00

A little something extra for the ladies...

To all those who were at Reading Festival on Sunday and saw Pearl Jam play. I'm sorry but I have to hate you now. I had to settle for watching them on the TV. My god they were brilliant.

Maybe one day I'll actually get to see my favourite band play live.

To New Friends and Old.

2006-08-26T14:56:00.000+01:00

So I did it. On Thursday I went through to Edinburgh for my first ever 'internet meet' with Cello and Marsha Kline. They were both just as lovely in real life as they are online.

Afterwards I went for long overdue drinks with my dear friend Amy.

Isn't it lovely when you meet people for the first time and feel like you've known them for years, and equally as wonderful when you meet someone you haven't seen in ages and feel like you've never been apart?

Bless the internet, and bless friends. Life would be dull without them.

Nice 'n' Sleazy

2006-08-22T19:37:00.000+01:00

Being the cultured sort of lady that I am I spent an hour last night watching VH1's Storytellers. Bon Jovi were the stars of this particular episode playing their tunes and recounting the tales that go alongside them. Now something struck me about the audience. They were nearly all female. This isn't the first VH1 Storytellers that I have watched* and in the other shows the audience has been far more evenly spread between the sexes, if not male in the majority.

This led me to question why Bon Jovi of all bands seem to have an overly female demographic. Is it because they are good looking? Well yes they are, but there are other rock bands with attractive members out there that don't have anywhere near the level of female fans that Bon Jovi do. The answer it seems to me is that Bon Jovi are essentially non-threatening. They seem like nice guys. Nice. Now as my beloved art teacher Mr Wilson used to say to me, "nice isn't good, nice is bland. Never describe anything as nice, art is black and white, brilliant or awful never just nice. "

Don't get me wrong I love Bon Jovi's music and if Mssrs Sambora** or Jovi were offering I doubt I'd refuse, but when it comes to rock'n'roll I like something more. I want my rock gods to be a little bit dangerous, a little bit sleazy, a little bit dirty. I want the Robert Plant's, the Slash's and the Nikki Sixx's of the world.

It's strange really because in real life I always go for the nice guys.***

Ladies and gentlemen, how do you like 'em? Naughty or nice?

* The Bowie one is a cracker.
** Apparantly Sambora makes Tommy Lee look like a tiddler. Heather Locklear obviously likes 'em large.
***Actually I'm sure they are all lovely guys in real life, Robert Plant in particular, but you know what I mean.

Pop: A Question Of.

2006-08-21T14:38:00.000+01:00

I've been thinking.

Ooh dangerous I hear you mutter... and for once I would have to agree.

For I have come upon a musical conundrum, a question of pop one might say.

It hurts my brain so it does.

I have phoned a friend and even done 50/50* but as yet have no answer to that which has been plaguing me.

So now my dear bloggers I shall pose it to you in the hope that you might save me from myself.

If Dylan was the solo artist who's music defined the sixties, Bowie's the seventies and Prince's* the eighties then who the hell defined the nineties?

Is there even an artist who qualifies?

It must be a solo artist, not a band.

Please help.

*Do you not see how bad this is?! I've even resorted to using cliched references to 'Who Want's To Be A Millionaire?' I need your help people.

** In the words of Chris Rock: "Remember when you were a kid and you used to argue about who was better, Prince or Michael Jackson?

Prince won."

A Question.

2006-08-17T19:04:00.000+01:00

.

Where is my elephant?

.

Mistaken Identity.

2006-08-16T19:51:00.000+01:00

My boss thinks my name is Hannah.

I've told her my name is Heather.

And I wear a name badge with my name in big bold letters.

Still she keeps on calling me Hannah.

How do I get her to stop?

Love At First Sight.

2006-08-15T22:27:00.000+01:00

I met an Englishman,

"Oh" he said "Won't you walk up and down my spine,

It makes me feel strangely alive."

I said "In these shoes? I doubt you'd survive."

I said "Honey, let's do it. Let's stay right here."*

Had a trip to the cinema this afternoon to see The Notorious Bettie Page (it's very good).

Afterwards I went for a wander around the shops where I espied these magnificent chaussures. Aren't they just lovely? It really was love at first sight.

I wanted them.

I had to have them.

I can walk in them too (just about).

I think they're rather Bettie Page-esque.

Altogether I'd say that it's been a very successful day.

*In These Shoes? by the beautiful and sadly missed Kirsty MacColl.

Too Cool For School

2006-08-14T23:56:00.000+01:00

Well I had a lovely day today, sitting out in the garden at a friends house drinking wine and playing with their beautiful 9 month old daughter who seemed delighted with my present of a large stuffed pink unicorn. Although she did seem more interested with the label than the toy, but she's only a baby and unbearably cute with it.

Anyway this has left me with very little of real interest to blog about.

What to do, what to do?

That is, until I remembered something I saw on my internet travels. Ladies and Gentlemen enjoy...

Yes, it IS the Flaming Lips, it IS Beverly Hills 90210 and it ISN'T a piss take like Weezer's (rather excellent) Happy Days video. And yes, they really are playing She Don't Use Jelly.

What larks!

Fairy Faux Pas.

2006-08-12T23:02:00.000+01:00

No, not the detergent. How could you become involved in a faux pas with a washing up liquid? Answers on a postcard children please.

No what I'm on about are fairytales. Fairytales really, really annoy me which is an unfortunate state of affairs because I also love them dearly. It's just that sometimes they require such massive leaps in logic that it hurts. And as someone normally impervious to logic you know it's got to be a huge problem before I'll take issue with it.

Mainly it's the kids that I worry about, these stories and their fibs are being perpetuated by generation after generation. Well they never did any harm to me I tell myself, and then I wonder if my capabilities for logical thought may have been better without hours of erosion listening to improbable tales of heroic princes and girls in unsuitable footwear.

Hmm, lets take a look at seven of the worst offenders shall we?

Cinderella: Firstly why glass shoes, surely they can't be safe? Also said shoes easily slip off while running, this is quite obviously a health hazard. Take it from me, splinters hurt.

Why don't the shoes turn back to whatever they were originally at midnight? Flawed you see?

If the Prince knows what she looks like why does he get every girl in the kingdom to try the bloody shoe on? Surely he'd have saved himself a hell of a lot of time and money if he just went out looking for her?

Surely at least one other girl in the kingdom would be a size six or whatever she was. Tsk at the silly thinking.
Hansel and Gretel: Why would the witch want to eat children when her house is made of sweets, cakes and biscuits? I mean - GET REAL! Any woman would rather eat cake!
.
Little Red Riding Hood: How come Little Red Riding Hood doesn't twig that it's not her Grandma in the bed? Frankly people that thick deserve what they've got coming to them.
.
Goldielocks and The Three Bears: Bears, wearing clothes and living in houses with furniture and curtains. They have NO THUMBS!
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Snow White: So she moves in with seven dwarves and becomes a cleaner (don't tell me that you don't find that whole set up just a little bit creepy).
Come on! I know of no princess who would happily tidy up without fuss.
.
The Boy Who Cried Wolf*: Surely he wouldn't be shouting 'wolf wolf' if it was trying to eat him. Instead I see the exchange going more along the lines of... 'Fucking! Hell! Get! The! Hell! Off! Of! Me! Aarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr'.
.
Jack and the Beanstalk: Why go back up once you've got the goose that lays golden eggs? That's just pure greed that is.

He chops down the beanstalk at the end. Committing murder and destroying a rare magical plant in the process. Someone should have got the Police and Green Peace onto him or at the very least he should have had to deal with some angry horticulturalists.

There we are, logical loopyness I hope you'll agree. At the very least there's a lack of common sense involved. So the next time you go to read that bedtime story to the little'un's just think about what you are doing won't you?**

*Yes I know it's technically a fable, not a fairy tale but bear with me here.

** Credit or blame for this post is shared with the two Samanthas. Ladies, thank you for making me laugh.

What are you scared of?

2006-08-08T20:59:00.000+01:00

So, quite possibly, another one bites the dust.

For those of you who don't already know, London based sex blogger Girl With A One-Track Mind was outed this weekend. Her true identity has now been publicized in a national Sunday newspaper and her life laid bare. She had jealously guarded her identity using the pseudonym Abby Lee to protect her family, work and lovers. Her book adapted from her blog, had just gone on sale. Yet a newspaper, the same newspaper which had carried the serialisation of her novel no less, callously disregarded this in search of yet another sensationalist story. Before her publication the media had shown no interest in her, so why now? Is it just because she'd become successful?

This begins to raise some interesting questions about the media and it's relationship to blogging.

Why do they care about a blogger come good? Is it that sex sells or can they not bear the fact that a blogger might actually be making some money out of their pursuit? Initially my answer would have been sex, but given a) that this 'expose' was published in a broadsheet and not a tabloid and b) the onslaught of media backlash against the recent blogging insurgency I would now suggest that the latter is equally as viable.

Over the last few months it has become clear that the press in particular is becoming threatened by bloggers and is reacting the only way it can, by lashing out.

Recently I have read articles by Charlie Brooker of the Guardian, Mary Dejevsky, Janet Street Porter and Yasmin Alibhai-Brown of the Independent all demonising the humble blogger.

Mr Brooker says,

"...the fustier elements of the "blogosphere", just waste the world's time banging on and on about how important the "blogosphere" is and how it spells the end of every old notion ever, when the truth is that, as with absolutely every form of media ever, 99% of the "blogosphere" is rubbish created by idiots."

Not too bad, but still decidedly hostile towards the bloggerly lot, however things really began to get interesting with Ms Dejevsky's horrifically researched opinion piece on the subject:

"It is not just in the political sector, as you call it, that fewer women blog. Except in areas such as childcare and gynaecology, it is across the board that women bloggers are few and far between."

She goes on to say that blogging is a passing fad that is attractive to men because of its 'gadgetry and self-aggrandisement' and that women are too busy cooking dinner and looking after their children to blog.

Then it gets worse.

Janet Street Porter sums up her views on blogging in her frankly obnoxious column by saying:

"The web is fast becoming clogged with blogs; the verbal diarrhea of the under-educated and banal."

and

"Blogs are for anoraks who couldn't get published any other way."

How charming.

And finally...

"And please don't tell me this is democratising communication. Mass blogging may indeed be giving access to Everyman, but is he always worth listening to?"

Of course he is, but then again if Ms Alibhai-Brown really does see the blogosphere as "a glut of pathetic drivel and idiocy" it is doubtful that she will ever spend enough time reading it to find out for herself.

Why are they scared of us, we teeny weeny little bloggers? We aren't scary. We aren't trying to change the world as Charlie Brooker surmises, we don't think that blogging will change anything, it is purely an enjoyable pastime for the majority of us.

Yet these professional writers seem to be taking every opportunity to besmirch the blogging phenomenon, in as self-righteous, ill-informed and overly abusive way as possible.

Are they really quaking in their boots that we humble bloggers might take their jobs? Or are they simply afraid of a little competition?

We aren't all Guido Fawkes and Girl With A One Track Minds. For the most part we are just people interested in talking about our day to day lives, our likes and dislikes with no agendas or book deals. Yes, some of us may harbour desires to be writers and to self publish online is a wonderful way of honing our skills and generating feedback. Yet these journalists seem scared by the thought that there are internet literate people out there who are happy to put intelligent, well-researched articles in the public domain for free.

I am also more than a little bemused by the assertion that to blog one must be a geek or an anorak with no discernible life beyond a computer screen. Where do they think people get ideas to blog about? In many ways blogging is a far more real portrayal of life than any soap opera or reality show. It provides a powerful, intimate connection with another person's thoughts and feelings. For something so reliant on technology, it is at its heart a very human experience. This is something that has been grasped by the creators of the play Girl Blog From Iraq which is running at the Edinburgh Festival. Inspired by the blog of an Iraqi woman. Sweetly the play's ending changes as the blog receives new posts.

According to the Guardian last week, one in every nine people in the UK is now a blogger. The media are going to have to wake up to this fact very soon.

Blogging is no longer a 'fad' after all it has been prevalent online for 10 years now. In the week that the Internet turns 15 they need to realise that blogs are here to stay whether they like it or not.

And finally, to allay Mr Brooker's fears, we bloggers don't mean to change the world. I very much doubt we could, but if we do, who cares? So long as it's for the better.

Girl With A One Track Mind, I hope you will blog again.

Unmitigated Idiocy.

2006-08-05T21:20:00.000+01:00

Customer: Where's the Customer Services desk?

Me: On the second floor.

Customer: So it's on the fourth floor?

Me: No the second.

Customer: Ok, the fourth.

Me: No the second, this building is only two storeys high.

Customer: Ok, so it's the second floor, not the fourth floor I'm going to?

Me: Yes.

Arrrgh!!!!!

Social boob?

2006-08-02T20:52:00.000+01:00

Things I never thought I'd say number 1284....

On old woman flashed me today.

Yes, today I was treated to the sight of a pair of boobs that were at least 70 years of age.

Luvverly.

Ah the delights of my job. Working in the changing rooms a very sweet little old lady asked for my opinion on something she was trying on. To respect her privacy, and to save the rest of the changing rooms the sight of her in her scanties I stepped behind the curtain of her cubicle to advise her as best I could. Fashion for the elderly isn't really my forte.

Not sure about the item of clothing she was trying she decided to try on a larger size.

It was at this point she whipped off said garment and revealed herself to be bra-less.

Right in front of me.

I hate to say it, but eeew!

What do you do at a moment like that? I was flabbergasted to say the least, and not just a little embarassed. I really did not want to be looking at her wrinkled cleavage. I averted my eyes and tried to leave the cubicle to let her try on the rest of her prospective purchases without me but she asked me to stay.

I dare say Wayne Rooney may have enjoyed it but I did not.

Saggy tits, every woman and man's worst nightmare.

Although as this picture proves, it is a fate even the most honed amongst us must endure one day.

Seriously though, I wouldn't dream of even stripping to my underwear in front of a shop assistant never mind crossing the nudity barrier. This old biddy didn't even seem to notice.

Has the world gone mad?!

All blogged out

2006-08-01T21:23:00.000+01:00

I don't actually have a clue what to blog about today. So I just thought I'd sit at my keyboard and go where my typing fingers take me...

The spoilt child across from my house now has his very own ball pool, and an even better super duper snazzy swing set, climbing frame thingamybobber. This is on top of having his very own massive paddling/swimming pool and full size bouncy castle. He is only 3. Really though it's not fair because I want one.

I have to be up at 5am for work tomorrow which means I have to go to bed early. It's like being in school all over again. I wouldn't mind if it was a job I actually liked, but well... let's not dredge that up again.

My gran was over for her tea, and my pot roast is now officially the best in the world. That now makes twenty different people served in total, all demanded the recipe (my own)! Ha, take that Delia!

TV cooks have the most awful names, Delia, Nigella. Dear god what were their parent's thinking!?

So Mel Gibson was arrested DUI and spouted anti-semetic drivel at the arresting officer. What did they expect? His dad is a holocaust denier after all.

Really though, is it wrong that I laughed when I found out about this?

Hmmm... that's about it for now, ooh I'm getting bitter in my old age, what do you think?

The Most Beautiful Fraud In The World.*

2006-07-31T15:37:00.000+01:00

Bloomin 'eck!! It's been a while since I posted on here.

Oh busyness abounds at the moment, between work and my housemate's birthday celebrations over the last few days, I have become exceedingly confuzzled. I keep thinking it is Tuesday.

I am still trying to recover from Friday nights frivolities, which may or may not have included me drinking a litre of Jack Daniels and my housemate falling on his arse on the front lawn. I'll bet the neighbours loved us on Saturday morning.

Given my current inability to move from the comfort of the sofa I have been catching up with my essential viewing (Including Rock Star Supernova- but more on that later)

In honour of my movie watching ways I thought I would tell you my top 25 reasons to get excited and get your bums into your local cinema over the next year.

Pirates of The Caribbean II is out now. Not quite as good as the first, but still fantastic popcorn movie fun.
Superman Returns: Wow! Very, very good. Not a film for the kiddies though.
Snakes On A Plane (August 18th) : The title says it all really. If you haven't heard about this film then where the hell have you been for the last year muthaf**kers!?
Monster House. (Aug 11th) : The Goonies for a whole new generation.
Pan's Labyrinth (Oct 15th) : Ooh it looks good (scary) but good!
The Last Kiss (Oct 20th) Zach Braff returns to the big screen.
The Departed (Nov 10th) Scorsese does gangster again.
The Prestige (Nov 10th) Director Christopher Nolan (Batman Begins) brings to life a book by the author of Memento about two battling 19th Century stage magicians. Starring Christian Bale, Hugh Jackman, Micheal Caine and Scarlett Johansson. Am I looking forward to this? Damn skippy I am.
Tenacious D The Movie (Nov 17th) : I can't wait to see what they've done.
Clerks 2 (Nov) : If it's half as good as Clerks I'll be a happy bunny.
Eragon (Dec) : Fantasy about a boy and a dragon. Loved the book, hope the film is as good. Sickeningly the book was written by a 15 year old. Bah!
The Nightmare Before Christmas 3D: This doesn't need much of an explanation does it?
Night at The Museum (Jan '07): High hopes for this one. Cast: Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Robin Williams, Dick Van Dyke and Ricky Gervais. Plot: Stiller gets a night shift job at the local museum. All is well until the exhibits start coming to life after dark.
Hot Fuzz ('07) : Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Edgar Wright return.
Rocky VI ('07) : It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of your rivals!
The Number 23 ('07) : Jim Carrey does serious again.
Ghost Rider ('07) : Another comic book adap, looks promising.
Stardust ('07) : Magic, fairytales and Robert De Niro.
Shrek The Third (Summer '07) : More Shrek.
Transformers (Summer '07) : My favourite childhood cartoon characters (well, tied with Thundercats) get another big screen outing. Whether it will compete with the original Transformers: The Movie is debatable. "Soundwave inferior, Optimus Prime superior" Sob! That line gets me every time. Poor crappy Soundwave.
Ratatouille (Summer '07) : Pixar returns and Brad Bird is back on board, Hoorah!!
Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix ( Summer '07) : Ok, so I hated the last one. It was my favourite book and they butchered it and created a steaming pile of cinematic crap. Will I be boycotting the 5th film? Hell no.
Spiderman 3 (Summer '07) : Oh I love the Spiderman films! This time he's facing Venom, Sandman, Green Goblin II and another unnamed mystery villain. Oh and yet another Bruce Campbell cameo to look forward to.
Pirates of The Caribbean III (Summer '07) : More Captain Jack Sparrow to buckle our swashes. Steady ladies, steady.
The Simpsons (summer '07) : Finally Homer, Bart, Marge, Lisa et al, foray onto the big screen. Dear god I hope it lives up to expectations.

* Jean-Luc Godard on cinema.

Brick In The Wall

2006-07-26T20:54:00.000+01:00

Work is incredibly, unbelievably, awful. I was going to say 'indescribably' but I think I've described it quite well.

To clarify, not all work is awful. Just my work.

Yep, I took the plunge and with media related toil not forthcoming, I crawled shamefaced back into the world of retail.

To add insult to injury I've even been demoted from my previous position of duty manager down to a lowly 'customer service representative' or shop girl as anti jargonistas might say.

To make it worse it's for a huge, huge company. It's all so regimented. There is no time for warmth or humour. No space in the day for co-workers to become colleagues.

After I left my old job I swore I would never do this again. Never stand for hours, feet aching trying to serve indifferent members of the public. Instead I was going to do a job I was passionate about, something which related to my newly gained qualifications. After 9 months searching for such a job and three days in my new 'position' I can honestly say I never realised how good I had it.

I used to work in a video store, not a 'mom and pop' video store as Kevin Smith might phrase it, but part of a multinational chain. It was good though. There were 12 staff, we knew and loved each other (a few quite literally 'loved' each other) and laughed together even on the worst nights. Now I have 700, yup, 700 co-workers and I know none of them, none of them has made an attempt to know me. I spent my time at in the video store talking about movies, from art house to Segal, soppy romance to Serenity and I loved it. Now all I have to talk about is the colour of the blouse a customer is buying.

I need to be challenged in my work, I actively want to be. The biggest challenge my 'CSR' role has so far thrown up is how to remain standing on my poor throbbing tootsies long enough to make it to the bus stop after ten gruelling hours flogging trouser suits to 70 year olds.

I have inadvertantly become a very, very small cog in a very large wheel and I don't like it- not one little bit.

To add indignity to insult and injustice to further injury, today I was bullied by a squat, evil, she-ogre of a manager. Not that I had actually done anything wrong, apparently she just likes to torture the new starts and rub in her superiority like salt into gangrenous wounds.

I'd tell her to stop, however, despite her diminutive stature she is built like a brick shit house and displays a disturbing facial similarity to a bulldog chewing a wasp. Her demeanour practically screams 'don't mess with me'. So I shall cower for now and instead frantically scroll through the jobs sites until I can get away from the nasty lady and the soulless corporation she, and now I represent.

I've sold my soul for minimum wage.

Pea Brained

2006-07-25T21:15:00.000+01:00

When I was 3 years old I stuck a button up my nose. I have no idea why, I don't even remember doing it. Although I do remember the frenzied journey to Yorkhill children's hospital to have it removed.

Aged 5 I stuck a pea up my nose one Saturday night while watching Challenge Anneka. Again I don't know why I did it, I had to be taken to hospital for the offending legume to be removed.

My parents were mortified. The doctors were bemused. Thankfully my campaign to place unusual items up my nasal passage seemed to end soon after.

Not entirely sure if this post has a purpose, I just remembered it this evening and it made me laugh. Kids! They're strange.

My way, your way, anything goes tonight...

2006-07-23T23:56:00.000+01:00

Honestly!

To think I trusted you all to behave yourselves. I leave for a couple of days and you sully the place with mentions of Westlife. Tsk.

Oh how wrong you are my dearies, how very, very wrong. Off the mark doesn't quite do it justice...

...Tchaikovsky had the news

He said, "Let there be sound,"

There was sound

"Let there be light,"

There was light

"Let there be drums,"

There was drums

"Let there be guitar,"

There was guitar

"Oh, let there be rock!"*

I spent my Friday night having an utterly brilliant, fantabulous, rock'n'rolling time seeing Guns'N'Roses live.

Oh my GOD!!! were they good!

I have been to a lot of huge concerts in my lifetime, including Motley Crue and Velvet Revolver, but my god GNR just blew them all out of the water!

Axl Rose was on fine form, actually better than fine. His voice was incredible. Oh and the songs, the songs. I swear to you I reached a level of musical nirvana I'd never before thought possible while listening to November Rain.

The atmosphere was electric, the crowd knew every word. Bra's were thrown on stage** and guitars were played at silly volumes. Friday night ticked every box on the perfect rock concert list.

Things were about to get better.

Izzy Stradlin took to the stage, guitar in hand. I screamed until my voice stopped working. To explain for those not in the know. Izzy left the band in the early 90's after yet another bust up with Axl. The rest of the original line up soon followed. Today's Guns'N'Roses has only Axl and Dizzy Reed (the Keyboardist from Use Your Illusion I & II) in it's line up. It has been somewhat disparagingly referred to as the Axl Rose show. Izzy hasn't played with Axl since. So as a fan to see the two of them on stage together again performing as friends, even hugging, was a wonderful and surreal experience.

The show wrapped after a storming set of two and a half hours with Paradise City and a shower of ticker tape falling on the crowd. I was somewhat delirious, both from awe at what I had just seen, and from a lack of oxygen.

At the end the 8 of us who had gone together all met up outside. Six of us stood looking somewhat akin to drooked rats, soaked with sweat, feet aching and hopped up on the euphoria of seeing our rock n roll heroes in the flesh. Two stood dry as a bone displaying no signs of physical strain. They'd had seated tickets, poor sods.

The evening was completed with the downing of several glasses of Jack Daniels and Coke.

That's Rock N' Roll baby.

Click on the above link to see the wonderful unofficial fan site New GNR.com and to read my dear friend Mark's review of the evening.

*God bless AC/DC!

**Not mine I hasten to add, I will admit I was tempted but despite being near the front I wasn't close enough to guarantee it would reach the stage. I wasn't very well going to lose a very pretty bra if it was only going to end up trampled on.

On The Night Train

2006-07-21T14:23:00.000+01:00

Ok, won't be around today as I'm off to a concert with friends. I won't say who it is I'm going to see but there's been a lot of black eyeliner and hairspray involved in my appearance tonight. Have fun folks!

Oh and this is for badger...
... for the most posts on my blog.

The Green Green Grass Of Envy

2006-07-19T22:31:00.000+01:00

My neighbour has the luckiest kid in the world. Or possibly the most spoiled kid in the world.

Over the last couple of weeks the weather has been encouraging (forcing) folks around here out into their gardens. To which I am no exception. After 4 years of living in a tenement it's lovely to have a small patch of grass to sit on while the sun is out. From my sloped back garden I overlook the back lawns of several very gorgeous and very expensive homes. It is here that the child and his parents reside.

Over the last week I have seen this 3 year old boy playing with:

His own large play park type thing with swings and slides and monkeybars. This is a permanent feature at one end of the garden and has deluxe written all over it.
His own sand box that is HUGE!
A paddling pool, that well, it's a small swimming pool really.
A motorised car. I can't even drive (yet) and yet here is a toddler zooming around the garden like a miniature formula one driver.
One of those flower things that you attach a hose to that splashes water.
His very own bouncy castle. Yup, you heard me, his very own full size bouncy castle.

Is it just me or is that a bit much for one 3 year old?

I could go on to talk about how spoiling such a small child in this way might not be good for his development. Or I could talk about how such things were unheard of in my day. Bouncy castles were at fetes and to get a decent sandbox you had to go to the park and hope that no drunks had weed in it the night before. Or I could just be honest.

I would quite like to steal his toys.

Yes.

I, a woman 20 years his senior want to steal the toys of a three year old.*

I must be evil.

Oh 1 month in blogging today, hooray!

* Especially the pool and the bouncy castle.

Indecent Exposure

2006-07-18T22:49:00.000+01:00

I have been lax in my blogging ways for the last few days my dear readers and for this I apologise. I blame the heat.

Quite what the heat has to do with it I don't know, but it's a convenient excuse so I think I shall use it.

Or I could blame the copious amounts of yummy cocktails I have been supping over the weekend. Yes, I think that they are probably more likely to blame.

Anyway, I had something of a swimming costume malfunction today. I went for my usual swim in my lovely local Olympic sized pool (40 lengths, 4 times a week because I'm nothing if not dedicated) and was wearing my faithful black swimming cozzie.

Unfortunately for some reason it decided to rebel this evening. Maybe it's because I've lost weight recently but it was either riding up into places I really didn't want it to go or sliding down to reveal nippleage. I had about 5 near misses of almost flashing the male life guard, not exactly ideal especially since I want to be able to go for my swim without a paper bag over my head.*

I shall comfort myself that it's not nearly as bad as those ladies and gents on flumes who end up in the splash pool minus an item of swimwear.

Still it may be time to invest in a new swimming costume before I end up inadvertently giving myself or some other poor soul a fright.

Not entirely sure why I decided to share this with you all. I obviously have little or no shame.

*A time honoured method of concealing identity and hiding embarrassment. Although the effectiveness of a paper bag when combined with water does come into question.

25 First Lines Music Quiz - The Results!

2006-07-14T21:43:00.000+01:00

Well done everyone, only three lines which weren't answered at all! I've filled in the remaining answers in green for anyone who is curious.

And the winner is... (drum roll)....

Poe - with 9 correct answers!!!
Chuffy! - with 4 correct answers!
Billy - with 3 correct answers!
Minion - with 3 correct answers!
Skeadugenga - with 3 correct answers!

Special mentions for Patroclus and Annie, who came, saw, but didn't quite conquer this time.

Huzzah to you all! Well done, no prizes I'm afraid, but bask in the glory of your incredible musical knowledge all you want.

Oh and for anyone who was wondering, since I never got an answer, Smirkenorff was the name of the dragon in the TV show Knightmare.

Also, I've had a couple of queries from online friends and that IS me in the picture, no stunt double required. Well who else would it be?

The power of voodoo? Who do?

2006-07-13T16:42:00.000+01:00

I would have posted this a while a go but Blogger was playing up, telling me that my cookies weren't enabled. I checked and they most definitely were. For a short while I even contemplated putting a chocolate Hob-Nob in the disk drive to see how it liked enabling *that* cookie.

Then rational thought took over my paracetamol and Benylin addled mind.* So I didn't. Could have been interesting though, in a crumb filled, melty chocolate sort of way.

I digress.

So I was surfing the internet earlier and came across a news article about the one and only, the incredible Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones.

Something struck me... a certain similarity, shall we say?

Is is just me or is the Mighty Mr Richards turning into Hoggle from Labyrinth before our very eyes?

Oh, make up your own minds, but be sure to let me know what you think.

The Music Quiz is still ongoing, I'll be posting the results up soon.

*I've got the flu, if I was going to take drugs for recreational purposes, which I don't, I can think of far better ones to take than Benylin.

Things aren't going very well...

2006-07-12T20:40:00.000+01:00

I fell over today.

Twice.

Don't worry, nothing injured.

Except perhaps my pride.

I've also got the 'flu'.

So I'm all snuffly and cold.

I've had better days.

The 25 First Lines Music Quiz is still running if you haven't given it a shot yet.

25 First Lines Music Quiz.

2006-07-11T23:01:00.000+01:00

Ok, a few of you will already have played this over at ¡Oye Billy! but it was lots of fun so I thought I'd try my own.

I selected 25 songs using the shuffle mode on my MP3 player and wrote down the first line of the songs in question, ignoring songs in other languages, instrumentals and songs where the first line was the title. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to guess the song title and artist WITHOUT googling it. If you google you cheat. Please be honest folks!

Here goes:

They slapped 'em on you. Where that bracelet used to be, you know the one I bought you in phoenix where they sell old jewellery. Harder Now That It's Over, Ryan Adams. Poe.
Holly came from Miami, F.L.A. Hitch-hiked her way across the USA. Plucked her eyebrows on the way. Walk on the Wild Side, Lou Reed. Billy.
Your only rivers run cold, these city lights they shine as silver and gold, dug from the night, your eyes as black as coal. Unforgettable Fire, U2. Chuffy!
Wading through the waste stormy winter, and theres not a friend to help you through. Trying to stop the waves behind your eyeballs, drop your reds drop your greens and blues. Sweet Virginia, The Rolling Stones. Poe.
Eddie waited til he finished high school. He went to Hollywood, got a tattoo, he met a girl out there with a tattoo too. Into The Great Wide Open, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. Poe
Out beyond the call of duty, hold your instincts hostage and stick near me. Let's drink a toast, it's the most I can stand to cry about. We are Underused, Pavement. Billy.
I was born by the river in a little tent. Oh and just like the river I've been running ever since. A Change Is Gonna Come, Sam Cooke. Chuffy!
For to see my depth of sorrow, you are not allowed to follow me unto this town square and then run away. Evil Angel, Rufus Wainwright. Poe.
Naked as sin, an army towel, covering my belly. Some of us weep, some of us howl. Knees turn to jelly. Next, The Sensational Alex Harvey Band.
Wanna tell you a story, 'bout a woman I know. When it comes to lovin', oh, she steals the show. Whole Lotta Rosie, AC/DC. Billy.
There's the moon asking to stay, long enough for the clouds to fly me away. Well it's my time coming, I'm not afraid to die. Grace, Jeff Buckley. Chuffy!
If you won't carry a gun, and if you won't learn to run. Hide from the world, it will come for you. You have no place in this time. Hidden Camera Show, Tom McRae
Darkest of night with the moon shining bright. There's a set goin' strong, lotta things goin' on. Superfly, Curtis Mayfield. Chuffy!
A man we passed just tried to stare me down, and when I looked to you, you looked at the ground. Who Is He? Bill Withers. {Minion}
Sailing heart-ships thru broken harbors, out on the waves in the night. Still the searcher must ride the dark horse, racing alone in his fright. Tell Me Why, Neil Young. Poe.
I went to bed too late, and got up too soon. My poor head still spinnin' from too much booze. I got a foot in the gutter, a foot in the grave. I ain't seen home in the last three days. Look What The Cat Dragged In, Poison.
Well they were given the grapes that go ripe in the sun, that loosen the screws at the back of the tongue. Four Horsemen, The Clash. Poe.
Yo man.What? She came. Where? There! Oh! In a word or two - it's you I wanna do. No not cha body, yo mind you fool. Sexy MF, Prince. Poe.
What the fuck is this world, running to? You didn't leave a message, at least I coulda learned your voice one last time. Porch, Pearl Jam. Poe.
I've never been too good with names. The cellar door was open, I could never stay away. It's A Shame About Ray, The Lemonheads. {Minion}
Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons, packed up and ready to go. Heard of some gravesites, out by the highway, a place where nobody knows. Life During Wartime, Talking Heads. Poe.
Workin like a dog for the boss man. Workin for the company. I'm betting on the dice I'm tossin', I'm gonna have a fantasy. Love in an Elevator, Aerosmith. Skeadugenga
There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week. I keep on talkin' trash but I never say anything. Portions For Foxes, Rilo Kiley. {Minion}
Drop down, baby, let your daddy see. Drop down, mama, just dream of me. Well, my mama allow me to fool around all night long. Custard Pie, Led Zeppelin. Skeadugenga.
I hear him, before I go to sleep and focus on the day that's been. I realise he's there, when I turn the light off and turn over. Man With The Child In His Eyes, Kate Bush. Skeadugenga.

Have fun with those, it's an eclectic mixture to say the least. Go on, impress me.

On a seperate, yet still music related note:

Syd Barrett passed away on Friday...

Come on you target for faraway laughter,

come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.

Shine on you crazy diamond...

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.

2006-07-10T16:11:00.000+01:00

So this weekend I had a shopping trip to Ikea. Usually I go to Ikea with the intention of buying big important things and leave instead with a tummy full of meatballs and a large blue bag filled with stuff like ice trays, garlic presses and cushions.

However this time was different, this time I bought a Dragon!!

May I introduce to you Smirkenorff, my Swedish Dragon.

Isn't he fierce looking?

Oh I also bought a sofa bed(in picture), but Smirkenorff is infinitely better don't you think?

A shiny silver sticker star for the first person who can tell me what the title of this post means, and it's origin.

UPDATE: Billy correctly answered this as "Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon" from Harry Potter.

A shiny gold sticker star for the first person who can tell me what 'Smirkenorff' is a reference to (and NO Googling- that's just cheating!)

Keep your eyes peeled, for soon I shall be posting my very own 25 first line meme music quiz, as inspired by the wonderful ¡Oye Billy!

Meddle not in the affairs of the dragon; for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

Dance till the stars come down from the rafters.

2006-07-06T17:40:00.000+01:00

Dance, Dance, Dance till you drop.*

Continuing on with the cavorting theme of the past couple of posts I was talking to a friend about dancing last night. I have had to come to the conclusion that there are certain songs that it is impossible to not dance to. Even if they are excruciatingly embarassing. I just can't help myself. They truly are the physical equivalent of earworm.

Particular repeat offenders in my case are:

Bon Jovi - Livin' On A Prayer. (complete with actions along to the lyrics**)

Men Without Hats - The Safety Dance.

Van Halen - Dance the Night Away. (One of the best summer songs of all time)

Van Halen - Jump. (Not so much dancing as a lot of jumping)

Huey Lewis and The News- Power of Love.

Prince - Raspberry Beret, Kiss, Little Red Corvette.

I do love to boogie, even if it does make me look like a total prat.

Do other people have the same problem?

* W.H. Auden

** I've never been quite able to come up with actions for "Tommy used to work on the docks" and "Gina works the diner all day". It upsets me, it does.

Unrequited Shoe Love

2006-07-05T21:40:00.000+01:00

I bought some shoes today, in an attempt to avoid a further flip flop fiasco. They are snazzy little slip on canvas shoes somewhat akin to converse but cuter. Look, there they are in the picture.

I love them, oh I love them so...

...so why do they hate me?

I wore them for the first time this evening for a 20 minute trip to the shops.

They'd ripped my heel apart after only 10 minutes. Ouchy ouch. Ouch ouch.

They'd fit in the shop.

Why don't they love me as I love them?

Bah!

In other news the wedding actually turned out to be quite good fun. The bride was blushing, in a beautiful white gown. The groom was dashing in his kilt.

I danced with Danes and my date who didn't really take all that much persuading despite his earlier protestations. I did actually kick some Danish folk, not intentionally you understand, they kept banging into us when we were doing the military two step. Well they would keep on getting in the way! However no one was seriously injured by our frolics (I think).

At the end the bride and groom did a dance as part of some Danish tradition and we all had to chuck rice at them, to bless their marriage with fertility. The groom's sister and I took great pleasure in aiming all of our rice to land down his shirt collar. Lots of fun. Even if he did chase us a bit afterwards.

All very nice, but...

I still don't understand why my shoes hate me.

Strip the Willow

2006-07-03T23:38:00.000+01:00

So things are gearing up for the Danish Scottish wedding of the year tomorrow. I spent my day on Sunday trawling the shops for a dress to wear. In the course of my shopping I occasionally disclosed the true state of my bank balance by gasping in horror as I looked at price tags.

"£300 for a summer dress made out of cotton! What's it made of?! Woven hairs of unicon mane? Are those frilly bits painstakingly teased from the wings of cherubim?" I muttered under my breath, trying to ignore the dirty looks from the staff behind the counter. They obviously knew that if I needed to know the price I couldn't afford such gaieties.

Still I eventually found suitable wedding garb in the summer sale at John Lewis. A very pretty dress, and I even had enough moolah left over to treat my self to some rather sexy lingerie.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind expensive things, it's just, well, if I'm going to spend £300 on a dress I bloody well expect it to look like it cost me £300 at the very least. Not like some old piece of crumpled cotton and an old pair of curtains smooshed together in a cack handed manner and then laughably called couture. Am I asking too much?

Anyway, I've got the wedding tomorrow. Amusingly I am going to be expected to dance. Not only dance but Scottish dance. Oh yes ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom came up with the ingenious idea of holding a Ceilidh. Despite the fact that 50% of those in attendance will be Danish and thus probably be asking themselves who is this Gordon? And exactly how gay is he?

I myself have not been to a Ceilidh since I was 16 at my high school prom. I can't remember the first thing about it. *

Meanwhile my date for the evening is more concerned with the fact that he's missing the quarter final of the world cup than anything, as well as his stout insistance that he will not dance at all. I wish I'd opted to just go alone.

This should be interesting.

NB. At no point has this blog contained a post on childcare or gynaecology. At no point will this blog contain a post on childcare or gynaecology.

Ms. Dejevsky why don't you try doing some research before you write in future?**

*About how to Scottish dance, I can remember the prom. It's the after party that my memory gets hazy on.

**See Patroclus' wonderful childcare and gynaecology free blog Quinquireme for an explanation.

Ninjatastic!

2006-07-01T16:40:00.000+01:00

Yes, more ninja chat. Have no fear though bird haters it is not ninja pigeons of which I speak.

I have started reading a nifty new trade paperback called Street Angel, and what should it contain? Ninjas of course! Ninjas galore. A ninja called Roger. A ninja called Dave. Could there be more ninjas? I think not!

Orphan of the streets and skateboarding daughter of justice, Jesse Sanchez fights a never ending battle against the forces of evil, nepotism, ninjas, and hunger as Street Angel!

Hurrah! Or should that be huzzah!? It is an excellent and very funny read which I would recommend highly to all and sundry.

While I am in a recommending sort of mood, my favourite comic of the moment is the brilliantly insane Next Wave.

I am sad to say that it has no ninjas. It does however have Unusual Weapons of Mass Destruction, and an evil despotic villain called Dirk Anger. It even has a dragon / godzilla type creature called Fin Fang Foom who wears purple Y-Fronts, and homicide crabs. Don't even get me started on the broccoli men. Next Wave is definitely not a comic to be taken seriously.

If you're really keen it even has it's own theme song.

Check them out. Go on! You know you want to...

Apologies.

2006-06-30T21:12:00.000+01:00

First of all I want to say sorry. This is not my usual sort of post, I like to think I've made this blog a fun place to come and visit. I don't want you to be put off by me getting serious on you all of a sudden. I'll be back to my old self tomorrow I promise you, right now I just need to vent.

Today has not been a good day. I got turned down for yet another job application. I can't even begin to express how despondent I feel. I have a degree in journalism and qualifications in Television Production and Operations yet can find no work whatsoever in the media.

Well actually that's not true, I can find a few, but they all want people with far more experience than I have or I'm told I'm over qualified. How am I supposed to get experience without work? Today's letter of rejection, from a company who were advertising my dream job simply said I didn't fit their criteria. Which would be fine, except I still have the list of criteria that came with the application form and I matched it all, even exceeding it in several places.

Still, at least they are better than the many places I have applied to who haven't even had the decency to get back to me.

The frustration is becoming unbearable and I feel utterly useless. I know I have something to offer but no one will give me a chance.

I just want to prove myself.

Now back to talking about the ninja pigeons, they make me smile.

Unexpected Ninja Guests?

2006-06-29T15:44:00.000+01:00

A crazy bird just flew in my window.

Then into the wall opposite the window.

It scared the bejesus out of me.

I suspect it was a kamikaze pigeon.

I ran about after it with a towel for a while before catching it.

I was just going to shake the towel open out of the window and then I thought what if it doesn't fly and drops like a stone?

Do I really want pigeon murder on my conscience?

Answer: No I don't.

I had to take it downstairs and let it go in the back garden.

It flew off, I knew it was feigning injury just so I'd give it bread.

Sneaky pigeon.

Oh lordy, I hope it doesn't have delayed concussion (can birds get that?)

Why do I care?

Maybe because of all the open windows in all the world it flew into mine.

I'm just really glad I don't have a cat who might have tried to munch it.

I do want one, but mainly so I can call it Ziggy Mac Stardust.

Then I could say; hey I have a cat called Ziggy Mac Stardust.

I think I may need to work on the banter a bit more.

Still, sometimes it's nice to have unexpected guests.

UPDATE: Have I done something to upset our feathered friends today? It's becoming like something out of the Hitchcock's The Birds. Another pigeon, the same window, but this time it was shut. There was a horrible bang as it hit the glass. Ahh! What is going on here?

UPDATE 2 : Skeadugenga has come up with the quite brilliant theory of Ninja Pigeons. I did a little research and looking at this article I think she may be right.

I am quite insulted though, talking to a so called friend I said I thought I could take a Ninja pigeon in a fight,

Friend: Would you be armed?
Me: No.
Friend: You couldn't take a Ninja pigeon, it'd kill you.
Me: What if I had a Katana*?
Friend: The outcome would still be doubtful on that one. Would the pigeon be armed?
Me: Possibly... possibly with nunchakus? Come on though, I'd have a Katana!
Friend: That pigeon would beat you down!
Me: Harrumph!

* A ninja sword.

Feeling listless.

2006-06-27T16:06:00.000+01:00

I was out present shopping today for some friends who are getting married. A Danish-Scottish wedding which should be interesting - but more on that nearer the time. It's a nightmare buying wedding presents, I got them a set of towels, how dull.

I shocked my mother though by saying that if I ever get married I don't want a conventional wedding list. Instead I want a list of all the CD's, DVD's and books I would like. Why should I want a conventional list? I already have a kettle, toaster and other assorted household items. I don't need any more of these things, surely one kettle is enough?

Traditional wedding presents were for a time when people were just moving into their first home after marriage and didn't have these things. Modern life is very different, people move out of home at a young age (I hightailed it out of there at the tender age of 17). People live together and build a home together for years before tying the proverbial knot. I have all the nests of tables and throw cushions my heart could desire, what I don't have is someone to marry.

So why is it strange to want the other things, the luxuries in life which I would love but I am too busy paying bills to afford? In honour of this I have decided to make up my own alternative dream list. Not that there's going to be a wedding (apart from the Danish-Scottish one but that's not mine).

1. Buffy The Vampire Slayer - The complete 7 series boxed set.
2. West Wing - The complete 7 series boxed set.
3. An MP3 player with a skip button that works.
4. The complete Sandman in hard back editions.
5. Two tickets to see the Rolling Stones.
6. That necklace I saw in that shop last week, it was very pretty.
7. That dress I saw in that other shop last week, it was very pretty.
8. A trolly dash around Accessorize, lots of pretty things.
9. A fortnight's holiday in Sorrento, it is a very pretty place.
10. A digital camera. Useful to take pictures of aforementioned pretty things.

So there you go, that's my list. Is it strange that I'd rather have these things than a toast rack? What do you think?

Oh and by the way, if you're feeling very generous....

Anniversary!

2006-06-26T19:16:00.000+01:00

Ha, the end of my first week in Blogging, not a very exciting event to most of you I know, but a bit of a milestone for me. I just thought I should mark the occasion. So far I've managed 7 posts in 7 days which is pretty good going I feel. Anyway, got to go now as I have folks coming around for a BBQ, not my idea I'll admit. My friend invited everyone around to my house and then told me afterwards so I couldn't get out of it. Ha, he shall feel my wrath for his crimes, it shall be a very wrathy thing. After I've fed him of course.

I'll give you an update on festivities later, if I'm sober enough to type.

UPDATE: 18 Things I have learned at my BBQ tonight. (Please bear in mind I am quite tipsy as I type this)

1.The word chagrin should never be used on a Monday.

2. Doing the big fish, little fish, box dance to Mr Vain by Culturebeat is neither big, nor clever and definitely does not make you look cool.

3. I should wiggle my caboose more often.

4. Two of my male friends admit to trimming their pubic hair.

5. My ex flat mate now lives in New York where women outnumber men 7 to 1. He is in heaven.

6. New York is not really like Sex In The City.

7. I would really love the comic Mouse Guard and should read it post haste.

8. We all love the comic Next Wave. We all sound terrible trying to sing along to it's theme tune.

9. I am the only person in my group of friends who has read Gaiman's Eternals so I couldn't talk to any of them about it.

10. While the meat may be black on the outside, it is actually quite tasty on the inside.

11. Men will always take over a BBQ, it's to do with grrr manliness apparently.

12. Eating and drinking too much simultaniously will make you feel unwell.

13. My ex flatmate does a spectacular impression of Brando doing Shakespeare. How could I live with him for over 2 years and never have heard it before?

14. We could all happily quote 80's movies starring ex SNL presenters until the cows come home.

15. Dan Ackroyd hasn't been funny in a movie since 1989 (apart from Gross Point Blank).

16. With my new hairdo and glasses I'm told I look very Lois Lane .

17. We all love Total Recall far more than is strictly necessary.

18. Hospitals do not have vibrating beds in real life. (Source Fi the nurse, ref Green Wing).

As of yet I have not unleashed my wrath upon my friend... I think I shall save it up for when he is least expecting it. Then he will cower. Well he might if I was in the least bit scary*

Right, I have 7 guests to get back to (I popped away while the footie highlights were on, I haven't abandoned them!) I just felt I should post before the copious amounts of booze I have consumed eliminate all memories of this evening. Goodnight all, hope you've had half as much fun tonight as I have.

*I'm not very scary. Except maybe to mice, and other extremely timid creatures. Dammit! Need to work on my inspiring fear in others skills. Do you think the OU do a course in that?

Summer and Songs

2006-06-25T17:07:00.000+01:00

I've been wearing flip flops today, it's strange how the simple act of exposing your feet to the elements makes you feel all summery. Ahh lovely.

Flip flops are great I thought to myself smugly as I strolled down the high street this morning. Look at me in my spiffy flip flops being all summery.*

Until I had to run for the bus. At which point I managed to leave one of said flip flops behind on the street and had to go hopping back one footed to get it. I must have looked a total tit.

Eventually I got on the bus (I'd managed to miss the one I'd been running for, what with all the flip flop flying and hopping) and after muttering curses against summery footwear for a while settled down with my mp3 player for the journey home.

It was at this point I then succeeded in freaking out the old lady sitting next to me.

It wasn't intentional you understand. I was listening to my music, singing along in my head, except suddenly I wasn't. I was singing out loud, but didn't realise. What makes it slightly worse is that it was Ed Harcourt's song Strangers I was singing. The bit where the lyrics go like this...

"Mow mow mow, mow mow mow"

I love that song**, and will readily admit that the Mow Mow bit is my favourite part. However I suspect the unfortunate octogenarian next to me thought she'd sat down beside some crazy cat woman.***

I still feel decidedly summery though, so it's all good.

*So summery indeed that for a brief delusional moment I even thought I could qualify as a summer girlfriend (TM. Black Books). Although I've never washed my hair in a stream so that idea was quickly quashed.

** I'd post a link to it, but I don't know how. If some technologically gifted person could email me and tell me I would appreciate it muchly.

***I'm not by the way, a cat woman that is. Although the crazy is still open for debate.

Faerie Tales??

2006-06-25T00:02:00.000+01:00

I found this site today, Urban Faeries.

There seems to be something strange going on in the American town of Ann Arbour.

Magically doors the perfect size for faeries have been appearing all over the town. They even appear to have their own shop!

The doorway in the picture was 'discovered' in a fireplace in a home.

As yet there have been no sightings of the ever elusive faeries...

I do love a good faerie tale.

There is strangeness afoot.

2006-06-23T10:15:00.000+01:00

I've just been gardening and discovered a large bunch of plastic flowers buried in my front flowerbed. I spent about 5 minutes just sitting and staring at them thinking, how surreal?

Quite how said flowers came to be there is a mystery at this time. I only moved into my house a few months ago, so I have no way of knowing.

Anyway, a more pressing issue right now is my growing distrust of small children, particularly at my local supermarket. They keep laughing at me you see, and not only laughing, oh no, there's pointing too. In case I didn't fully grasp that their hilarity is aimed at me, the little buggers point just to make sure.

The first time it happened I assumed it was because I was wearing my rather spiffy* Calvin and Hobbes T-shirt, and the little girl (aged around 3 or 4) just liked the pretty picture of the silly tiger and the little boy.

Then it happened again.

There was no cartoon T-shirt this time, oh no. This time I was wearing a slinky black top and trousers combo. This time, not one but two small children, brothers I think, (aged- 3 or 4) started pointing and laughing.

I checked my appearance, there was nothing wrong that I could see.

I have had to come to the conclusion that there is something about me that is inherently amusing to toddlers. I don't have much experience with this particular age group so I don't know if the phenomenon is widespread or only centered around Morrisson's car park.

Or another possibility is that they have all banded together in some sort of evil - diabolical -supervillain plot to paralyze me in fear of their mocking faces. With the end result of me never leaving the house again.

Ha! Well I'm on to their Machiavellian scheme!

They won't get me!

* Spiffy. What a great word, one of my all time favourites.

Some thoughts on sanity or the lack thereof.

2006-06-21T18:30:00.000+01:00

The inevitable onset of madness has begun.

Tonight I poured Diet Irn Bru into my cup of tea instead of milk.

Why?

I don't have a clue.

More worryingly...

It's the third time I have done this in the last week.

It's not even like the bottles are remotely similar.

They even sit on opposite sides of the fridge.

Maybe I should just give in to it, and embrace the madness.

Or maybe I should try drinking it, it could be really nice.

This seems unlikely.

Ta Ta TOTP

2006-06-21T15:46:00.000+01:00

The BBC has just announced that it is cancelling Top Of The Pops after a 42 year run. I don't know why this upsets me as I don't think I've watched it once in the last 6 years, but I find it's demise is somewhat unsettling.

I used to watch it, every Friday night when I was little. I don't usually go in for nostalgia but I remember how exciting it was sitting waiting to find out what was number 1 in the charts. That was back when being number 1 in the charts actually meant something of course. Back when an artist had to actually sell a lot of singles to get in the top ten.

When my mum was young her ambition was to have every single in the top ten. This was a big ambition for a child who had to save two week's pocket money just to buy one single. My mum was never one to be put off by such things, like economics or reality ( a trait I worryingly share), after all she bought her first record at a time when she didn't even own a record player. She did succeed in her dream though, because back then (the 60's) if a song got into the charts, especially into the top ten it stayed there, often for months. Nowadays the chart changes so much that sort of thing is impossible. Also, who buys singles any more? I haven't bought a single since I was 13 years old, all of my music collection consists of albums.

Really I'd far rather watch Later with Jools Holland, or re-runs of The Old Grey Whistle Test, as the music is far better. The TOTP format is outdated, especially with the onset of all the new fangled technological stuff we have now. Downloads and myspace have taken over.

I didn't even know TOTP had been moved from it's Friday night slot to a late night Sunday position on BBC2. I shall still miss those opening bars of Whole Lotta Love signalling the start of Top Of The Pops. I long ago abandoned it to it's fate of dropping viewing figures and ultimate cancellation. I feel guilty. It feels like a national institution has died today.*

*There is one good point to this however. It means that 'acts' such as Girls Aloud get less time to pollute my TV screen. Now male friends keep telling me that they're actually quite good and that I should give them a chance. They're not. You see I was actually listening to their music. The aforementioned menfolk were trying to look up their skirts. Although considering how much flesh they bear in their performances I really can't blame them for having a good stare.

Illicit Rumpy and other Ye Olde Stuff.

2006-06-20T16:22:00.000+01:00

I have been thoroughly enjoying BBC4's The Century That Made Us season. Lot's of good documentaries, an enjoyable re-run of a Tom Jones serialization and last night's Beau Brummel: This Charming Man.

It's certainly been a refreshing change from the twin plagues of Big Brother and The World Cup.

The Tom Jones serial is excellent fun with Brian Blessed blustering around yelling a lot and loads of illicit rumpy going on in barns and fields. From the looks of things these 18th century folk really knew how to have a good time.

I can never quite explain it, there's just something about watching Brian Blessed that always makes me unreasonably happy. Although the less said about his role in Star Wars-The Phantom Menace the better. It could be the wonderful sonorous voice. Or maybe my love of him stems from the wonderful story of how they repeatedly had to stop filming of his role for Flash Gordon as he kept on making pow pow noises everytime he was supposed to be firing his gun. No matter how many times they explained the sound effects would be added later he just kept on going. There is just a joyous glee in his work which I adore and translates across the screen to the viewer, I think anyway.

I digress, So the Beau Brummel film/drama was on last night. It was very good, although at times it felt simultaneously a bit too rushed and far too slow. I'm not denying that James Purefoy (in the titular role) is an attractive man but I could have done with about 10 minutes less of him getting dressed in slow motion and about 10 minutes more of plot.

The gentleman playing Byron seemed to be an idiosyncratic piece of casting to me. Byron I've always thought was supposed to be powerfully sexy and intriguing, whereas the actor looked more like a misplaced Hobbit.* Yet again there was lot's of rumpy ( when the sex depicted happened over 200 years ago it gets called rumpy) booze and general debautchery. Even a little incest dropped in the mix for good measure.

Hats off to Brummel though, he certainly invented a good look for men. The hormonal flutterings of watching gentlemen in period costume are undeniable, and certainly far easier to comprehend when they aren't in powdered wigs and blusher. At which point, contemplating men in make-up you inevitably end up questioning your own sexuality.

The thing that spoiled the film for me though was some bright spark's decision to end it with a Smith's song over the end credits.

Yes it was a song with a reference to clothing which could be seen to neatly tie in with the story of Brummel, but surely there are other better songs out there that could have done the job just as well? ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man perhaps? Please, if you have any better suggestions let me know.

The 'wonder of the Smiths' has long been an anathema to me. I often feel when talking to a group of Smiths fans as though I have stumbled upon some sort of cult meeting; they all keep offering me the coolade but I'm having none of it.

Do not for one second think that I haven't tried to like the Smiths, I once sat in the relative captivity of a friends flat while she played 4 hours worth of their music at me, and at the end I still hated them. It's Morissey's voice. It's like a cheese grater on my soul. I feel slightly nauseous even thinking about him. I do think I'd quite like to punch him, even though I normally abhor violence of any sort, but in Morissey's case I think it could, just, be justified.

*Although his acting was very good. Oh why am I trying to make excuses? Sorry hobbit man, you just weren't right for the role.

Welcome To The Jungle

2006-06-19T23:31:00.000+01:00

Ok what does a frustrated journalist do with themselves when they can't journalise?*
They set up a blog of course. Exactly what this blog will contain I cannot say, random ramblings in abundance certainly. Hopefully this may even turn out to be entertaining for you all. Welcome anyway to my humble blog, may you all return again and again to be dazzled by my brilliance.

Well a girl can dream can't she?

*Journalise. Is that even a word? I have a laisses-faire attitude to the English language as you will find out.