Archive for July, 2007

sg.jpg   So how excited are you about that?

I’m pretty sure that the answer from most people would be “not much” or something a lot more emphatic but I think I’d be tempted to go to one of the concerts — if only because it would be a such an event — a minor part of entertainment history. And it would just be kind of weird seeing them all together up on a stage performing — I can’t even imagine what it would be like.

I don’t know if you’ve seen any of their joint press conferences but the one thing that stood out for me about the one I watched was how ill-at-ease Posh seemed. I know she always seems a bit like that — and most of the time she appears to be putting far too much effort into striking a pose — but you’d think she’d have picked up some tips by now on how to appear more relaxed during public appearances.  I just get the feeling she really lacks self-esteem and that she is acting a part most of the time. People sense she’s not ‘genuine’ and don’t warm to her, despite her vulnerabilities.

The other thing I noticed was how glowing Gerry looked — I think I’ll look up what kind of *skincare products she uses and get me some (and don’t give me any of that ‘good genes’ or ‘ditch the junk food’ business’ — I know there’s some magic ingredient out there that will eliminate the need to put in any effort).

Anyway, must go — this is just about the busiest time of my entire life and I’m wasting precious minutes writing about the Spice Girls.

*On second thoughts, I think I’ll probably have to give them a miss, as they’re bound to be more than my upper spending limit (about £10.99).

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Where the hell are you?

Just in case anyone is wondering why I’m not posting that often in recent days — I’m over at Larkin & Catcher’s Very Best Things (among other places). Don’t even go there unless you are interested in fashion (in addition to the odd assortment of Youtube videos I’m posting at my new ‘baby’ — my taste in music is said to be abysmal — but hey — ‘whatever’). It will take me a while to settle-in over there but I’ve got a good feeling about it and I’m enjoying being able to be free to post about my latest fashion finds and whatever else I feel like sharing. Here (dearest WordPress) is my home and Blogger will be my little ‘holiday’ place. Yes — I do know that I can be ever so slightly weird at times. And I’d just like to add that the spellchecker is way better at Blogger.

echo.jpg  Bad haircut update: Not that anyone would even care — but I’m almost kind of getting used to my new haircut now. Shades of Echo and the Bunnymen (the one on the left), with the help of half a ton of hair products — I’m making the best of a bad thing and sometimes that’s what life is all about.

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I am undone!

I’ve just had the most brutally bad haircut and it’s unlikely that I’ll leave home hatless for the next six months. I’ve already mentioned in another post that I’m fanatical about my hair and really particular about who I get to cut it – but something strange came over me yesterday and I went for a spur-of-the-moment haircut at the first salon I came across.

My hair had grown too long and boring for my liking — so when I found myself with about an hour and a half of free time before I had to be somewhere else — I decided to take the chance on a radical new haircut. The salon looked quite cutting-edge and my stylist was (allegedly) one of the directors – so I reckoned she’d know what she was doing.

A warning sign should have been that she didn’t bother to consult with me before I had my hair washed. I read somewhere that a good stylist should have a little chat with the client while they’re still in their ‘civvies’ and not covered-up with the robe – that way they get some idea of your sense of style and how you normally dress your hair.

The other warning sign was that most of the staff had their faces tripping them and could hardly crack a smile. I was my usual happy, charming self – and did indeed make some attempt to engage the shampoo girl and the so-called stylist in some witty repartee but they just looked at me as if I was a mentalist. Me! Honestly – it’s hard to believe.  I should have ran for the hills but I was stuck down by a bout of bad judgement.

Anyway, what I thought I said I wanted was for the front and top layers to be left really long – so I could have a side-swept fringe or even tuck my hair behind one ear. Not too difficult, as I’d went into the salon with below-the-shoulder, one-length hair (I did have a fringe but I’d been growing it out to near-jaw length).

I’ll cut (even the very word pains me) to the chase now and say that I had wanted something like this:


And what I got was more like this:

delia.jpg (only even shorter on top)

And when I woke up this morning I found it had flattened down to look more like this:


You can see why I am now a semi-recluse and why I have to leave you now to lie down in a darkened room.

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I read last week that a sour-faced pub barmaid reprimanded a man for causing offence to other customers. His ‘offence’ was laughing — seemingly his joviality was ‘disturbing other customers.’  The laughing man and his friends were indulging in the kind of back-slapping hilarity that we don’t hear so much of in recent times in what passes for pubs these days and this had caused some disapproving stares from some business-types nearby — who were, no doubt, being put off their mineral water and (unsalted) peanuts.

To me this just about sums-up how all the kill-joys and health freaks are squeezing all the character and the craic (in the Irish sense) out of our drinking establishments. It’s only a matter of time before alcohol is rationed in pubs — some method will be employed to measure how many government-approved units a person has had that day and service will be refused once they’ve reached their ‘healthy’ limit. The sale of crisps will be out the door too (with the smokers).

This drive to make pubs more ‘healthy’ is all wrong and will knock the life right out of them. I’m sure that — if there is a demand for them — there could be ‘healthy/wholesome’ pubs (cafes?) for those individuals who are offended by everything that people have enjoyed in pubs for generations.



I know I said yesterday that it would take me around two years (or whatever) to get the hang of Blogger but I was wrong and I’m finding it all easy-peasy now. I was probably just subconsciously resisting Blogger because I love WordPress so much and was feeling strangely guilty about blogging somewhere else. As if anyone in this whole entire universe would give a jot.

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I’ve just been through the Hell-on-Earth that is the (all round pain in the arse) procedure required to put a post on Blogger. I know everyone and their cat can do it with ease but we’re talking about me here. I’ve probably already mentioned my missing computer gene at some point in the past year – and it is true that it did take me about two months to work out how to put an image on WordPress and then at least a further three months to work out how Categories are meant to work (I still haven’t got that right) but WordPress is a piece of cake compared to Blogger.

I read somewhere that — in terms of being user-friendly — Blogger is better for newbies, but I just don’t get it. My big problem is the positioning of images, especially trying to re-position them or even cut them out altogether. I just don’t find Blogger idiot-proof and it needs to be (because of my missing gene).

rustlers.jpg   The reason I’m trying out Blogger is that WordPress.com frowns on anything of a commercial nature and I can’t really write about anything business-related here. I do have a WordPress.org blog but that is supposed to be reserved for business purposes only and I’d like to have a blog where I can mix a bit of both, if that makes sense. Why is my life so complicated? And why are Rustlers Flame Grilled Quarter Pounder with Cheese becoming so hard to come by in Sainsburys? Almost definitely due to that Gillian McKeith woman or those of her ilk.

Anyway – the new blog is Larkin & Catcher’s Very Best Things – not much there to read yet, but there will be a veritable deluge soon enough.

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I don’t want you to think that I’ve got nothing better to do on a Friday night than hang around watching television.  No, my life is one long round of parties and … em … other fun stuff (whooo! – I can hardly draw breath, thanks to this whirlwind of socialising).

fridaynight.jpg   But, anyway, I just happened to ‘catch’ The Friday Night Project last night (in between Big Brother episodes) and I just wanted to say that Alan Carr and Justin Lee Collins are pure genius as a comedy duo.

lily-allen.jpg  Alan and Justin had Lily Allen on last week as their guest presenter (I just happened to catch that episode too) and the girl did good. And skinny! She’s either lost a helluva lot of weight since her Myspace rant – or she had been suffering from delusions brought on by all that size zero guff.

aheifer.jpg   I’m in the same situation as Lily, actually, as a number of ‘elements’ in my life are conspiring to bring me to the mistaken belief that I’m becoming a bit of a heifer.

My bathroom scales are the worse culprit in this vile campaign – last night, for instance, they were trying to convince me that I’m heading for the ten stone mark. Bloody cheek. Most of my clothes and all of the mirrors in my house are in league in this evil plot to convince me that my uber bunny status is now sadly diminished. I’m now almost convinced that I should splash-out on some exercise equipment. Something that you just sit on and don’t have to move about a lot or break a sweat. Something magical. Trust me – such a device will be invented in our lifetime. There’s probably one available now and I just haven’t heard of it. I might check out the Shopping Channel (in between all those parties I attend) and see what’s on offer.

Tax doesn’t have to be taxing – my arse.

tax.jpg   hurley.jpg   I’m attempting to complete my self-assessment tax forms and it’s driving me bananas. I’d probably be bald by Monday, if it wasn’t for the fact that my hair has grown back to Burley Hurley proportions. Next time around I’ll no doubt have to fork-out for the services of an accountant but right now I’m saving up for a decent hair-cut. I’m paranoid about my hair and won’t let just any old crimper loose on my tresses. Right now I’m trying to grow out my fringe. I hate short fringes but was somehow convinced that a shortish one would ‘bring out my eyes’ and hide the stonking-great frown line I have between my brows. But it was only there in the first place because I worry about taxes and over-enthusiastic hair stylists and getting fat — in addition to the World Situation and man’s inhumanity to man  (just in case I had you thinking I’m shallow and self-obsessed).

fringe.jpg   Yesterday I plastered some hair gel/cream on my growing-out fringe and left the house with a light laugh. How was I to know that the stuff would dry in to a solid mass and that I would be walking about for about four hours – AND TALKING TO PEOPLE — looking like I had some serious scaly, flaky (possibly contagious) scalp condition? I did notice a couple of funny looks but I thought it was because I had over-done the Touché Éclat (on my – now exposed — frown-line).

Have a nice weekend (you two) – go easy on the hair gel and stay away from evil mirrors.

By the way – *I’ve just watched Madonna on the Live Earth concert – she looks great and what a performance!

* I just ‘caught’ the concert as I was getting ready to go out on yet another round of socialising. Of course.

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A relatively new blog but I like this man’s style – and it’s good to have yet another blogger drawing attention to the growing power of the Health Fascists and Thought Police.

Billy Seggars — The World’s Gone Mad

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