A (rather unusual) day in the life...

What a strange and surreal weekend! I have another reason to add to my list of how I could get on The Jerry Springer Show. It is true that I have at no time been a man, nor do I have any children that I require a DNA test for (oh, that's Jeremy Kyle isn't it?) and I have never been in love with a donkey, however family- and relationship-wise there are a good few leads.

On Saturday it was down to Huddersfield for a 'family' wedding reception. This is something of a long story, however I shall try to summarise as best I can. I am not really Divinyl. No, I am not an imposter who has been trying to pull the wool for all these years, and I have not taken the surname I have just because it is uber cool and trendy. You see, my dad was adopted as a baby. And this is where the story starts.

Pick said story up 60 years later and my dad decides to try to find his birth mother. Which he does. However, before he gets the chance to meet her she is taken into hospital, unfortunately never to leave there alive again. So, the only time my dad has actually seen his mother is once she, unfortunately, could not see him…I'm thinking this has probably all been a lot more surreal for him than it has for me!

Anyway, as his mother was dying in hospital, her children were opening any post she received. Which included a letter from my dad. These people had never known about him (and they are 52, 50 and 46...or something like that), but got in touch with him via e-mail, and they have since met up. Which is why we were invited to the wedding reception of the son of one of my dad's new brothers…all very convoluted eh?

I can only imagine the surprise these folk felt when they found out they had a (half) sibling they had never heard about. Well, I can imagine pretty well, because, at 26, I found out that my dad had a son before me, who was adopted at birth and will now be about 40 (is there a pattern developing here?). I found it very strange that he had never mentioned this to me, so it must be even more bizarre to find this out when you are double my age!

Hang on, just got to take a 'phone call…"No thank you, Mr Springer, I do not wish to appear on your show 'Lesbian Love Triangles Exposed'". Oh, sorry…that's a different story entirely!

Ok, back to the story in question…

So I travelled down to Huddersfield from Gateshead, whilst my family (my actual family of dad, step-mum and my two brothers) travelled up from Surrey. I arrived at the hotel where the wedding reception was taking place a few hours before my parents, and checked into my room…which was grimy and had the strangest bath I have ever seen…a pink circular number with a step to sit on in it…trying to shave my legs really got me in quite a tangle. When my parents and brothers arrived, their rooms were in a different, and refurbished, part of the hotel, and were actually quite nice. So I was Cinderella in my mucky hovel of a room!

Anyhoo, everything from there was without incident until, after I had finished my make-up and so on, I put on the dress that I had bought and one of the straps came away. Now this dress was the most expensive I have ever purchased…and I was also planning on wearing it to my pal's wedding this coming August (which is going to cost me a bomb…travelling down to Hampshire for the hen 'do' of horse riding and then back again two weeks later for the wedding itself…and I'll also have to sort out a B&B/hotel room for the night). It came from Monsoon, cost me £85.00 (ouch!) and fit beautifully. It was (for I have now taken it back in disgust) a lovely turquoise/teal colour, just past knee length, empire line, with a few large white and black poppy-ish flowers on it. It really was nice, honestly. My youngest brother was dispatched to the hotel reception to try to find a sewing kit, so we could botch it enough for me to wear (I can't sew, so that would have to have been in the hands of my step-mum I think). Alas, no such sewing kit was available…so I had to take all my make-up off (which I'd done to match the outfit) and start again (after, mid-crisis, walking past the bride in the hotel corridor, and feeling very embarrassed, because I was obviously dressed to go to her party yet had never even seen her before!). Fortunately I had also taken a pair of black trousers and a top with me…however I was the only woman there in trousers, when I had a beautiful dress sitting unworn in my room. Could've been worse…

So, crisis over, I headed down to meet the 'family'. There seemed to be hundreds of them! Names upon names of people I had never met, but who claimed to be related to me! One actually introduced herself as "Auntie Linda". I did a lot of polite smiling, nodding, hand-shaking, cheek-kissing, that kind of thing, but must admit I felt a little befuddled by the whole affair. And I now have 'family' in both Sydney and Calgary, which has got to be a good thing…Bondi Beach here I come (or maybe I should obtain a gym membership first? Nah, sod that!). Incidentally (here we go again), and almost completely irrelevantly, did you know that the Sydney Harbour Bridge was manufactured in Middlesbrough? Some great things have come out of that place…even if I do say so myself ;o)

Surreal as it was, everyone did seem very nice and welcoming…I just drank lots to help cope with the stress of it all! This is possibly the first time my parents have seen me pissed…although I was still of good behaviour! I did a lot of bonding with my 13 year old brother, who was telling me how he likes to drink blue WKD and has been snogging girls…a different world entirely to my 16 year old brother, who still loves Warhammer and Dungeons and Dragons and doesn't want alcohol even when offered it!

All in all, a surprisingly pleasant evening and jolly nice people. My dad's fully hopped on board this 'whole new family' thing. I, myself, feel a little more reserved about the whole business…yes, these are nice people, but there's a but. Like I said, however, they couldn't have been more welcoming.

Dad and I are in agreement, on the other hand, with regards our own mini Patti Smith appreciation society. He had bought me her latest album 'Twelve' (as well as Joan As Police Woman's 'Real Life'…which will now replace my slightly less than legal downloads…and a cd by a woman called Keren Ann, who I've never even heard of…it's a little embarrassing when you're 60 year old dad's more 'down with the kids' than you are! He had also asked for me to burn my Gossip cds for him. Music has always been the common ground that it is easiest to talk about…but we are getting better when it comes to more serious stuff…like when he was up visiting, I said to him that I felt he should tell my younger brothers about the son he had that was adopted, as I didn't think it was fair that they didn't know or that I should have to keep it as a secret from them. I digress again…). This somewhat devalued the Fathers' Day gifts that I had got him, but it was all very much in keeping with the theme…Ms Smith's 'Easter' and a book of her poetry (my dad didn't realise that she had so many strings to her bow).

Whilst we're on a musical bent, I am currently rather addicted to Luscious Jackson's album 'Electric Honey' (I am also addicted to ice cream…of any flavour bar chocolate really…but that is beside the point)…an album I have had for what is probably more than a decade, but has much more recently found its way onto my 'essential listening' list. I have also decided that Carole King's 'Tapestry' is probably my favourite album…despite generally complaining when being asked to name just one. I love those songs…and I really love singing along to them in my car! :o) Music-ness-wise, the last thing I have to say for now is, in true Divinyl fashion, a result of reading The Observer yesterday (well, I've nearly finished Music Monthly...as usual, the rest of the paper remains to be read in stages over the coming week!). Sinead O'Connor, apparently, in 2005, converted to Rastafarianism. That woman is truly odd…she has been a kissogram, a priest, a lesbian…what other joys are yet to come??

On the subject of reading…I have just finished 'The Book of Lost Things' by John Connolly. Well, the story itself finished after 348 pages of a 502 page tome, so I'm not sure what's left to read. But I thoroughly enjoyed it. It is the story of David, a 12 year old boy in wartime England, whose mother dies. David than starts to go a little bit loopy, hearing books (which were always a jolly important part of he and his mother's life) whispering to him, and to each other. When an aeroplane crashes into his garden, David ends up in a fantasy/fairy tale world of wolves, beasts, dwarves, trolls and suchlike, where he must travel to reach the king in order to find his way back home. All the while being pursued by the Crooked Man. Twas a rollicking good yarn and I would thoroughly recommend it…particularly if you enjoyed such books as 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time' or 'The Boy in Striped Pyjamas' (pyjamas is such a great word!).

Heather would like it to be pointed out that, although pyjamas is indeed a good word, she personally doesn't believe it to be as good as 'cagoule'.

For today I shall leave you with a Big Brother classic…

Chanelle, the twins (still entirely indistinguishable in any way from each other) and one of the new housemates, Brian, were discussing long words…basically naming any words of more than one syllable that they had in their limited vocabularies:

Chanelle: What about juxtaposition?
Brian: Is that a sexual position?

Seriously, what woodwork do these people come out from when Big Brother comes around?

What's white and giggles?

A tickled onion! Tee hee…totally the type of rubbish joke that I find very amusing…Peeg, you are a genius for telling me that one. I just don't understand why it's been received with groans from the people I've passed it on to. And there have been two separate people who have responded with the answer "You". Well, I suppose this is also valid.

This is the blog which should really have preceded the Big Brother stuff…but I am laaaaaaaazzzzzzzzy! It's another one of my hotch-potch nothingness blogs me sweets.

A lot of this will be about (live) music…there seem to be so many great gigs on in Newcastle lately :o)

Ok, so onto gigs that I have attended (recently)…

The first of the batch was Patti Smith at the Sage. I went to it with me dad…how rockin' am I?! I was panicking about my dad coming up to stay…he has not seen the inside of my house since he helped me move in…and I am not exactly known for being tidy. In usual Divinyl fashion, like every essay or revision deadline I ever had as a student, I completely avoided the tidying thing until the very last minute…but, fortunately (and with lots of advance warnings that it was worse than it actually was) I managed to pull it off. And it was a rather nice 'weekend' actually ('weekend' with inverted commas either side of it because it actually occurred over a Wednesday and Thursday night…I took the Thursday off work as Annual Leave). My dad now knows I smoke!!! This is massive. And I am 27! He sussed me…I went for a cig in the pub we went to after the gig and he smelt it on me when I came back…oops! Anyway, it was a slightly under the influence (and much mellower since he has been off work sick long-term) dad who caught me out, so it all turned out ok. I still didn't smoke in front of him the whole time he was here though.

Anyhoo…Ms Smith. Was excellent. A real crowd-rouser. It was one of those gigs that, had it been the 60s and the audience collectively on mind-altering substances, would have been described as 'seminal' (in the 'massively influential and noteworthy' sense, as opposed to something to do with fluids...yuck!) in the annals of time. Even without said substances it was still jolly good. The cover of Neil Young's 'Helpless' that she closed with was particularly enjoyable. My dad, who (despite being very into all sorts of music) has never been into Patti Smith, came away a total fan, vowing to purchase the latest album, which he had said he's only seen rubbish reviews of, and saying that it was up there in the top three gigs he has ever seen (he is 60 and has been to rather a lot of gigs).

Two days later (after, on the intermediate evening, introducing papa to Revolution's take on the Bloody Mary and Tokyo's Chilli Mojitos…and the Bacchus to round it off with some Landlord…pure class us like!) it was back to the Sage to catch Bat For Lashes and Joan As Police Woman. I enjoyed both very much, although Joan had decided to perform with just her and a piano on stage and I think I would have enjoyed her with a band more. Seemed like a jolly nice woman though, and she had a very nice nose. Bat For Lashes were suitably crazy and off-the-wall, as expected. And, due to them, I now realise that I want to play the dulcimer...or at least that I think the dulcimer is cool (Anthony had to name what it was for me though).

The following day I was invited along to go and see Eliza Gilkyson at the Cluny. I haven't heard anything of hers beyond her name before. I think I would probably describe it as country-tinged folk. I enjoyed the gig, but don't think I need to be traipsing out to get hold of her entire back catalogue. I may be a philostine, but I have never heard of her father, Terry Gilkyson…apparently he wrote the song 'Bare Necessities'. This is a tune with which I am most familiar, having made up an 'alternative lyrics' version about a boy I knew when I was 15 (those lyrics weren't very complimentary, but not because I personally knew him 'in that sense'…it was mostly about the fact that lots of other girls did).

I missed the Freevolution festival at the Quayside on Bank Holiday Monday as my pal that I'd arranged to go with couldn't come along…twas a shame, but I wasn't too gutted, as there was only Datarock that I was really keen on checking out. And the weather was pretty rotten…whereas previous years I have managed to get some colour to my skin while I load myself with free cider (I don't even like cider but, hey, when it's free!). This global warming business is obviously not all it's cracked up to be ;o) I do hope it's nicer for the Americana wotsit in July…

…at which Holly Golightly will be playing…the second time I will have been able to catch her for free. And she was great last time…I even jiggled a little bit! As part of that I will also be seeing (although paying to go and see) Nanci Griffith and Laura Veirs (the latter being supported by people I know…how ace is that?!).

I've also been rounding a crowd up to go and see Ruthie Foster at the Cluny. She's not someone I know a great deal about, but the stuff on her MySpace page sounds good…kind of bluesy-soulish. I do like to give new things a whirl!

But the gig that I am MOST excited about (and have to wait until July for!) is Sunny Sweeney. She is a great country singer…and I mean C-O-U-N-T-R-Y! I bought her album on the 'net' from America before it was available in the UK, so have been listening to her for some time now, and I'm stoked that she's coming to Newcastle. This is a woman who, only one album in, has already played the Opry! She has also turned me into a petty criminal; I half-inched a poster, which was advertising her upcoming show, from The Cluny. Don't worry Sunny, there was more than one, I'm not going to be denting your ticket sales. As well as having made a cracking album, she also seems like a jolly nice and down-to-earth person…the kind that actually takes the time to get around to responding to any messages you leave her on MySpace and who keeps a canny blog to boot. It still doesn't change the fact that I don't own a Hag t-shirt though (she has a thing for collecting Merle Haggard t-shirts)…I wonder if turning up in a Dolly one will do?

Polly Paulusma is on at the Academy (for the princely sum of a fiver!) this Thursday if anyone fancies it? I missed her at the Cluny recently...I've also now missed seeing Josh Pyke twice, just because no-one was able to / wanted to go with me...and I'm generally a bit too scaredy to brave gigs on my own!

Blimey...I'm just checking out what I had already written of this blog and it was truly yonks ago that I started it! I was, I think, about to write about a programme that was on "last night" as I was going to sleep...that was actually several weeks ago now! The world seems to be whizzing past me at the moment...mostly as I sleep! This whole being back at work thing has kind of knocked me for six and it doesn't really seem to be leaving the space or time for anything else. I have weeks and weeks worth of Facebook messages I haven't yet replied to, just because I don't have the energy. People must think that I am so rude!

Anyway, the programme that I was going to talk about was that music show on Channel 4 that's hosted by Lauren Laverne and that Welsh boy off T4. And I was busying myself trying to get to sleep (which really hasn't been a problem more recently...busying myself trying not to fall asleep has been far more taxing), but then 'came round' to see Yoko Ono, Beth Ditto (she has such a darling accent when she speaks) and Ana Matronic (grrr!) all sitting on a sofa together...it all felt very surreal. Oh and Bat For Lashes were playing on the same show. I was getting slightly worried about the rate at which Ditto seems to be putting on weight (hoping that it wasn't just to make a point to the media...and rapid weight loss is also something I would comment on if there was someone worth commenting on...Paris Hilton (throw away the key next time!)/ Lindsay Lohan / Nicole Ritchie I couldn't care less...really, what do they add to society? Particularly those 'Simple Life' girls...simple indeedy!) until I saw her naked cover photo for the NME (the first time I have bought it in...I dunno, 13 / 14 years). She looks fab! Bring it on chick.

I always go to sleep with the telly on...I'm really not so good with the whole silence schtick (you don't say?). Either the old brain starts working overtime, or I get scared because I start thinking I can hear noises like my house is being broken into or something (if only those burgling scum realised...or gave a shit...the impact they have on people's lives). So, that particular night, after said Ditto programme, I next stirred to find, there on my screen, a talking panda. Now I really wasn't sure if I was just dreaming or not, or even hallucinating from lack of sleep! But that was nothing compared to the next time I opened my eyes. By that point, said talking panda was being, erm...let's say manually pleasured, by some zookeeper man. WTF?

At this stage, having disclosed the above, I feel I need some nice cosy sanctuary...so let's have a bit of a chat about Neighbours eh? It's totally crazy lately...on the occasions I have caught it, Karl and Susan have been holidaying (is that how you spell it?) in London, where they have bumped into Emma Bunton and Parky, and been re-married by Neil Morrissey, with Sinitta present as a witness! Way to boost a flagging career...bit-part in Neighbours! Ahem.

But, alas, the little cosy retreat of tea time BBC1 has also been threatened recently. Nope, I'm not talking about the fact that the Beeb have decided not to bother re-purchasing it...I am talking about the fact that they have killed off the Stinger!! That's spiggin' dreadful that is...Scotty, I will mourn you forever :o(

And I think, for now, we should leave this here...in loving memory of Stingray (de de ler de der de).

Oh, except for one final ponderance...

Is it just me, or do some of those "Dulux - We know the colours that go" colours really not go?

Where are all the men?!!

This is not something I am normally wont to ask. I am, of course, referring to Big Brother. It is a house full of women!

There is also something else amiss with this series…has anyone else noticed it? Davina is not pregnant. Is this some new kind of plot twist?

Now, I would love to be 'cool' enough to not care and not bother watching to see who everyone is. I am not even going to pretend. Don't get me wrong, I'm not someone who feels the need to sit in and watch every show, or ring the helpline when it is all over, but I do like to watch that first episode so that I know who all the contestants are when everyone is talking about them in the office!

I, like the true dweeb I am, made notes as I watched them all entering the house. My intention was to write a blog that night, so that I could be one of the first BB blogs. Saying that, my general verbosity would have probably killed that idea anyway. And then my need to sleep before work the next day also superseded it all. So, here I am, 2 days later, when everybody already knows what's going on, finally getting around to it (and this blog, in turn, has superseded the next general rantiness blog I had planned).

My plan was to offer a 'quick guide' style précis of each of the contestants, giving my first impressions etc. These will all likely be disproved anyway, as you can never tell how it will all play out.

At this early stage I am loving Laura and Carole; I am undecided on Nicky, Tracey (she is either going to be totally brill or incredibly annoying) and Lesley; and I am fairly sure I am going to hate Charley, Shabnam and those god awful twins. Hating people is a good thing, in my opinion, Big Brother-wise. The British public always make the mistake of voting out the annoying ones when, actually, those are the people that make it worth watching. There are two further contestants – Posh-alike and Geldof (Peaches)-alike (or so she says…why on earth would anyone want to emulate either of these people?! Is this what role models for young women have come to?), but they don't really seem to be very noteworthy.

So, without further ado:

The Big Brother house

(You will all, of course, know most of this by now, so I shall keep this bit brief)

It looks small! Smaller = more confined = more conflict? There is also a general ridiculousness going on whereby the kitchen appliances are scattered around the place. The cooker is in the bedroom, the fridge-freezer is in the garden, the kitchen sink is by the bath (which is in the living room) etc. etc. Yes, this will be annoying, but just seems rather silly…is this the best they could come up with? I suppose the other notable thing is the sleeping arrangements; there is one single bed (cleverly bagged by Lesley, saying that she had been promised it by Big Brother…no-one thought to question this), but otherwise everyone is going to have to share. One of the beds is big enough to sleep about six people, with one long pillow that everyone is going to have to share (that would annoy me so much…I like to scrunch my pillows up to funny angles, flip them over to get to the cold side etc.!). My only other comment on the house, for now, is sadly a rather grown up one :o( I really like the green tiles in the shower; I wonder where they got them from? That, of course, is by the by. Ok, so onto the contestants (in the order they entered the house):

1 and 2 – Sam and Amanda

Giggling, blonde, identikit 18 year old twins…wearing matching outfits and speaking in unison. Key quotes from them on launch night include:

"If there's only one fit boy in the house, we'll share him."

Oh dear, just what the pervy old men want to see and be thinking about. They, despite their seeming lack of any depth whatsoever, were obviously very aware of this as they bounced into the house in very short skirts each licking a lollipop. And I'm sure there will be antics aplenty in terms of pretending one is the other etc. They are indistinguishable as they behave as if they are one person, never mind looking alike. It was all arm waving, screeching "It's pink!" and so on. And jumping on items of furniture like they are small children…18 year olds just don't behave like that. They rate themselves "Ten out of ten for attractiveness" also apparently.

3 – Lesley

The next person to enter seemingly couldn't provide more of a contrast. Lesley, aged 60, looks like (and appears as restrained as) a headmistress or a female MP. According to Davina she is also 'mates' with Charles and Camilla. She said some semi-witty things, but these were simply on a different plane to most of the other housemates. She claims not to like music…full stop. Does this woman have a soul? I thought she was a likely lezzie Lesley, however the papers say she is married and has several adult children (not as in that fetish where grown men wear nappies and such, just that she has offspring that are themselves now above legal voting age)…but then I don't suppose that precludes anything and it's just me making assumptions about peoples roles etc. etc. Yawn. The key quote from her 'VT' was:

"I think there's a very strong possibility that I will win."

Hmmm…doubtful methinks. She seemed to be in such shock from the whole experience to date that she was super keen to get into the champers that had been provided…looked like she was necking the stuff! Even on the first night it already looked like she was getting a bit side-lined by all the giggling young girls…however she also seemed to be making a point of hanging back and appraising. I am bemused about why someone like Lesley would want to go into the Big Brother house and, in fairness, it would seem she is too! Very much an anomaly in this house.

4 – Charley

Charley, 24 (and played by Neneh Cherry), was booed as she entered the house…never a good sign, but it might mean she becomes a classic Big Brother 'love to hate' character. It certainly looks like she will slip into the role (or one of them, given it is a house full of women) of 'house bitch' without too much of a problem. She describes herself as a "South-East London 'it' girl" (or was that Davina describing her as that…I forget) and says such fan-winning things as "I love money". She is clearly a wannabe 'WAG', as she was mentioning going out with footballers and her cousin (Kieran someone? Football really means nothing to me) playing for Man U. The only positive I have to comment upon for Charley is that she says she has a phobia of "skinny people". Saying this, it wasn't long before she was commenting on how she is a size zero (my arse!) and hates it…yawn! She was already telling housemate number six she loved her as she stepped over the threshold…yeah, that's genuine and sincere! Basically she is an unemployed blagger living the high life whilst contributing nothing…and she used to work as a lap-dancer.

(Phew! Cash-in ad break long enough for me to get a tarb smerked.)

5 – Tracey

A 36 year old cleaner ("Cleaning – I'm good at it"), with pink hair, who has collected carrier bags since she was six and also does a good line in blown light bulbs. We present to you a true British eccentric…or simply a drug-fucked nutter! In true BB spirit…"You decide"! My first impression of Tracey was that at some point in the past she must have been a man. Watching her further I am not sure…she claims not to wear any make-up (again this is me stereotyping, but surely a MTF would do this in an effort to appear feminine?)…she is definitely rather masculine either way. Her catchphrase, and indeed her first words as she stepped through that door, seems to be "Have it!" (with a notable pronunciation of the aitch – not haitch all you people out there who annoy me by pronouncing it wrong. And on a similar note, it's nuclear...if it was pronounced 'nucular' surely it would be spelt like that?). She also overuses variations on the word 'buzzing', example, "I'm a buzzing person". What does that even mean, really? It's all about 'buzzing her tits off in a field' and threatening to leave naked when (not if!) she gets evicted. Saying this, she may turn out to be alright…I'm undecided on this one so far. But, for now, for a final strike against her, we also have the fact that she describes herself as "In your face"…oh dear! The celebrity she thinks she is most like is Julie Walters…I need this one explaining to me!

6 – Chanelle

Chanelle, 19, wants to be famous and rich (nothing new there then)…or a speech therapist in Spain. Interesting…well, not really, when you look at the rest of the evidence. To her credit she has a Yorkshire accent and grade seven violin. This is all I have found so far…she is something of a nonentity. She models herself on Victoria Beckham (and even admits that she is doing this on purpose!)…even down to the pouts for the cameras. Chanelle has met VB once, who apparently told her she was beautiful…nowt like a bit of narcissism. This really is all I have to say about her…she wasn't even memorable enough to note down a 'key quote'.

7 – Shabnam (or Shabs, as she gets called)

Now, Shabs seemed alright from the video of her talking etc. before she entered the house. She spoke about things such as her love of reading on the toilet and the fact that she is "passionate about eating". She tells us that people who like to eat are her friends…and she has beautiful eyes. All good. It all starts to slip when she reveals that one of her nicknames is 'Shabalicious' and, shortly after this, is the most screamiest screamer since the twins. She has also already said things like "I'm just checking out how sexy I look" (I am paraphrasing this one perhaps, as I didn't write it down…might not be exactly word for word…or it may well be!). Likely to be a backbone of the Big Brother screaming, bitching girly posse.

8 – Emily

Emily is 19, blonde and posh. She has teeth that cost £4000. She likens herself to Peaches Geldof (why would you do that…why?), but says that she is "not a rich bitch"…I think that might be a point that is up for debate. She is into a "new music that's taking over our country and it's called indie" (her words, not mine…dimwit!). She hopes to meet Pete Doherty-type boys in the house (again, what the fuck? And furthermore, unlikely…I hear smack is scarce within tham thar walls). She has clearly been practicing her pose for the paps before entering the house…it was the full-on bag-to-the-floor sideways pout shebang. She gives herself ten out of ten for intelligence…but will be voting Conservative in the next election.

(There have been false hugs and squealing galore by this point).

9 – Laura (are we nearly there yet?)

Laura is a fat girl, who is 23 and very Welsh. She seems great (hey, I never said that this was going to be an objective critique). Now, I don't mean 'fat girl' in a derogatory way…it is refreshing in the world of BB! I wondered whether she was trying to be a bit of a Beth Ditto-alike, but she proudly announced that she'd been told she looks like Peter Kay. Tee hee. Key quote in this case was something about how we'd probably perceive her as a fat bitch, but she was going to say anyway that "food makes me happy". Game on to you petal. Her ideal job would be as an embalmer and she sweeps leaves for free in her local graveyard. Laura, I think, is going to be a bit of a 'floater'. Sorry to refer to you as that, Laura! What I mean is one of those Big Brother 'inmates' that will not show allegiances with only one group within the house, but who will merrily try to chat to, and get on with, everyone. So far, she seems to have been the only one of the younger housemates to have paid any regard to trying to get to know the older members of the household. She got a great big cheer from the crowd as she went in.

10 – Nicky

Aged 27, born in Bombay and adopted by a Catholic family in the UK, Nicky says "I really love cigarettes and electro music" and "men…yeurch, gross!". She expands upon this by telling us that she would choose vodka over men and that love is for losers. Then, entirely contradicting all of this, she states that if she could sleep with any celebrity it would be Callum Best (one of the worst man-slags going!). Her party trick is doing a rendition of the Cheeky Girls (I do hope this is as a piss-take and that she hasn't spent too long practicing it) and her half brother appeared in the tv programme Skins. I am undecided so far as to whether Nicky seems ok, or whether she will just merge into the group of aforementioned screaming, bitching girlies.

(By this point the people in the house seem to be getting progressively less excited as they welcome each new arrival…too wrapped up are most of them, it would seem, in talk of make-up and how simply wonderful they are).

And finally (for now)…

11 – Carole

Carole, a 53 year old divorced bisexual, is a slightly bearded woman with a head of iron wool scraped into a top knot. I am already thinking that this is a good sign and that she should be decent to watch! She is another big lass who seems like a good sport and who garnered a massive cheer from the crowd outside the house. She regularly attends demonstrations and once dressed as a mobile 'phone when she went to see the Scissor Sisters. Apparently she also has a 'giant African land snail' as a pet. Possible the best quote of all, delivered in a strong London accent (and let's not forget by a 53 year old woman):

"I am gonna shake it summink rotten, and they will be shaken shitless".

Totally one to watch I reckon…Lesley certainly seems to think so…I wasn't sure from her reaction to Carole entering the house whether she was shocked because another older woman (who seems more fun than she is) was there, or whether it was because it was an ex-shag she never thought she'd see again…it was literally hand over mouth from her.

And that's our lot…still no men. Although apparently they will be throwing a man into the pit for them all tonight.

It's early days, but so far I'm gunning for Laura and Carole. Shabs and Charley already look like they've decided to be the best of friends…and I don't think that that is going to be a good thing. Lesley and Tracey have already been excluded/excluded themselves from the first (very loud) visit to the diary room (by all the other housemates all at once). Laura has already been subjected to people feeling it's ok to touch her breasts just because they are large…seriously, this is not ok people. And that's my lot for now.

I wonder what I'll be thinking of each of these people in even a week's time?

Oh, just one last thing…

I was over the moon with the fact that we'll no longer have to put up with Russell Brand (presenting Big Brother's Big Mouth)…but then I found out he has been replaced by Chris Moyles…guh! Clearly no improvement whatsoever :o(

I can see clearly now Lorraine has gone

Ok, time for a new blog methinks! Ooh, so much to write about! Mostly, on this occasion, stuff I've actually done rather than general ramblings about nothingness...so there's a change. Don't worry though, I'm sure there will be plenty of the latter to boot!

Firstly, I shall start with Eurovision, because that is a fun (if nationally embarrassing!) thing. I had a few people over to watch (and of course get somewhat inebriated too) last Saturday (the boys headed into town afterwards, even though we were replete with alcohol, and good music. I decided to stay in and save my spondoolicks, particularly as there was nowt special going on in town...so instead I took to sending slightly embarrassing MySpace messages! I think the Be Good Tanyas put it better than I ever could when, in 'Light Enough to Travel', they sang: "Promise me we won't go into nightclubs/I really think that it's obscene/What kind of people go to meet people/In a place they can't be heard or seen". Damn right lasses!).

With hindsight, we so should also have made up some Eurovision-themed drinking game, but that is an opportunity lost until next year! For those that were sad enough not to watch (oh, the irony!), Le Royaume Uni came second to last...groan. In fairness, we were entirely rubbish. Ireland were even worse...our 'token' Oirish drinking buddy will even attest to this, although he's not proper Oirish, even if he does have the passport (he's from Derry).

Said friend and I were, ahem, lucky enough to catch Scooch (the UK entry) the previous Saturday at G.A.Y. I've never been to G.A.Y. before...well, I've been to G.A.Y. bar and I've also been to the Astoria 2, just not on a night it was G.A.Y. (that's an annoying thing to have to type repeatedly!)...they have so many stonking acts on, so why did we have to catch Scooch for fuck's sake??! They looked like 12 or 13 year olds making up formation dance routines in their bedroom...it was teeth-grindingly awful...and I felt very embarrassed for them. Still, I suppose they were getting paid to be there and I was the FOOL who parted with my hard-earned to get in! Even more demeaning was the fact that Right Said Fred were supporting Scooch...poor, poor Messrs Fairbrass.

Can I tell you a secret? I went through a brief spell of fancying Richard Fairbrass as a pre-pube! Go figure...I don't know whether that explains an awful lot or is just even more confusing to the types out there who ask things like "So, what do you do in bed?". Christ, use your imagination peeps. Failing that, watch The L Word...blatant soft porn fest!

Seriously, I downloaded series 4 of The L Word recently, and even I was astounded by how frequent, and explicit, the sex scenes were. I'm not complaining, but come awn, are there people out there whose lives are really like this? It's not a show I want to like. I want to be able to sound all intelligent, like all those pseudo-political, highfalutin dykes out there, and dismiss it as frippery. But, the thing is, I kind of like it. I want to continue watching to find out what happens to the characters. It's seriously not just for the soft pornish elements...although, granted, that is a boon.

Anyway, incidentally, because I know you are wondering...Alice. Although the arty, ballsy, deaf rebel of a sculptor has a certain something to her. And Shane's new 'sweet thang', Paige. Or...or...or! Tee hee. The truth is that I just don't fancy women like that in real life...not that any women really look much like that anyway. It's the characters...which is the same thing as me never thinking 'cor, she's hot', but learning to crush as I get to know people! Only not real! So not real!!

Where was I? Oh, Scooch! I think I am done with them...and, no thanks, I'm quite alright without "something to suck on for landing"...cringe! Like some dodgy Steps rip-off. Although it didn't disturb me as much as the man last year who had women dressed as schoolgirls. Anyhoo, the next part of my rant was going to be further 'weekend away in the big smoke' stuff.

Ronan and I headed down on the Friday, via Surrey...or rather down to Surrey and then back up to London again! We stopped in for a few hours to say howdy to the 'rents and little bros. It's so difficult to believe that the older of my two younger brothers is now sitting his GCSEs! Still hasn't instigated those terribly doomed feelings of aging yet though...I have friends that are anxious that 27 is old! What the fuck?? Aging doesn't bother me...yet, anyway! I do, however, know that when I get to 40 I will feel like I have only blinked since I was 26. The numbers don't worry me one jot. We shall see about the physical 'side effects' as they set in!

Friday night we didn't arrive at Antony's until around midnight, after my dad taking us out for a meal...and the subsequent drive through London to our final destination, which I never find very easy! (Antony is Ronan's friend with whom we were staying...in Canary Wharf...oh we are so posh! Transiently, whilst here, I shall mention that I went to see '28 Weeks Later' on Sunday. Loved it. I always love a good ole gore-fest. The reason I mention it here is that it is awesome (apologies for the brackets within brackets again. But I would just like to point out that I mean 'awesome' in the true sense of the word, as opposed to the American bastardisation) to see London so deserted. It is simply never like that, so it's kind of fascinating to see. So I guess I would recommend it for that alone...just be prepared for the gore and fairly limited plotlines! Ben and I are now a little obsessed with practising zombie noises...it has even infiltrated our text messages...sad, sad ,sad).

New paragraph I think. So, Friday we just had a couple of drinks together in Antony's flat. On Saturday the boys slept forever and I got jittery about wanting to be out and about doing stuff! Which meant that, when it got to 11.30am, I simply had to bounce on Ronan to get him up...I'd been awake yonks and yonks! I then punished him by making him come to the Vivienne Westwood shop...or, indeed, two Vivienne Westwood shops. The necklace I want is sold out in all their shops in England. Soo, sweety, the one you sent me a picture of is like the one I want, but is a fake I'm afraid. I have since purchased one off eBay (relatively) cheaply...I was just so desperate to have it, and it was looking more and more impossible! This one is genuine...well, that's if the photos aren't lying...it hasn't arrived yet.

My latest 'want' is a necklace from Tatty Devine (I love the way I can just let rip in these blogs...I sound like such a whiney, spoilt brat!)...but I'm darned if I'm paying £78.00 for what is essentially a lump of brightly-coloured plastic! Here's a pic:

It's good and chunky :o)

We then spent the day (we're still in London for those who have now completely lost the plot) bimbling through Carnaby Street (basically because it was close to the Westwood shop and therefore required minimum effort) and Soho to Covent Garden to people watch. It is simply my favourite place to do that. Ro didn't like it (we managed to get caught up in some gut-wrenchingly smelly entertainer's 'act'!)! We mooched some shops (I introduced Ro to Muji, at which point he moistened and eventually had to be dragged away from the dinky little pretty things!) and I bought some FABBO shoes (just from Shelley's, not some geet designer place...I'm so not with that!)...black wedge HEELS and they are just perfect! We 'lunched' at Ed's Diner, a favourite childhood haunt that does the best milkshakes ever...well, maybe bar the brownie one in Hard Rock, if they even still do that there. Yes, yes, further evidence of spoilt brat childhood, I know. I can explain...I'm just not going to!

We then found a pub for a spot of light refreshment (via Lee Ho Fook's...I challenge you to identify the song that was name-checked in...without Googling it!). It was something like £3.50 for two pints! Why on earth is Newcastle so expensive? It's ridiculous. Seriously, I've paid more for a round in Newcastle than ever in London...and I'm not frequenting massively swanky places in either! We chatted about the general hot-ness of Johnny Depp and Catherine Deneuve and some nice people taught us a little about bar billiards. And then we realised the time! Maah!

Swiftly back to the flat for some showering (I hate the grime of London on my skin...even smoggy Boro doesn't do that to you) and getting ready. We hit the town rather late and, bless Antony, he took us to The Vespa Lounge in order that I could get some lezzie-spotting in pre-uber G.A.Y. Only The Vespa Lounge doesn't exist any more! It is now some sweaty, dingy rock bar. Antony apologised profusely for this...which was entirely unnecessary, as I thought it was GREAT! I've always loved rock bars/clubs...all except for the fact that the clientele generally make me feel like I'm about 75! Snakebite and black a go go! (Not for me, I hasten to add!).

Much talk of twinks...or chicky-chicky-chickies...later (on Antony's part) we landed at the clerb. And you already know about Scooch. But not the friend I made, who was called Fabio...classic! He was from Turin and we chatted, amongst other things, about Clapham! Not much more to tell from Saturday.

Sunday the boys slept even later...groan! When they finally got themselves erect (erm...?) we headed to the Gilbert and George exhibition at Tate Modern, followed by some noodling (as in eating noodles) in Greenwich. The exhibition was smashing...at least I thought so. I'm not sure the boys were quite so impressed, despite the willies and homo-eroticism. There was no time to check out the general galleries, although I did get to sneak a quick peek at Dali's 'Metamorphosis of Narcissus' and Magritte's 'The Reckless Sleeper'. I don't think I will ever tire of looking at those, or cease to be astounded.

Ok, enough Londinium for now. We drove back up on the Monday and then I had to go to a friend's 30th birthday party...and then recommence work the following day...all rather shattering!

I get so immersed in my own little Divinyl world when 'blogging'...I've been here for hours! This one is promising to be so long that I think I'm going to have to call it a day and do it in shifts!

Ok, going back to work was pretty much where we were at eh? (As per my usual form, I have just lost about an hour and a half's worth of the typing I'd done since coming back...grrr! And I should already have set off for my weekend in Nottingham by now!). Anyway. Work has been something of a shock to the system; although I am, thankfully, partaking in a phased return. There's quite a lot to get my head around and (re-) take in though...I already have eight new cases and I had to go to court on Wednesday (fucker had contested her breach...I was shitting a brick!). I am feeling a lot less 'better' than I was before going back. But I will be fine. And I even had chocolates with a "Welcome back! X" post-it note on them in my desk drawer...thank you Mr Wilcox...bless!

Work has meant quashing my becoming-established routine somewhat. That had grown to include Catchphrase, which was showing at 4.00am on FTN (although I persist in referring to it as Countdown...when we all know that Catchphrase is far more intellectual!). Maybe it's because Catchphrase has a 'Cash Countdown'? That's the bit where the contestants can buzz in and say anything that comes into their pretty little heads until they get the answer right...or the time runs out! They come up with such tosh it's blinding! Roy Walker (I had to Google for his name...does that confer any anti-geek points? I suspect not, seeing as I am here blogging about Catchphrase!) is a miss though, with his "It's good, but it's not correct"...c'mon Roy, just tell it like it is, that was blantantly a ridiculous thing to say!

Nick Weir, the host in those shows that have been airing (again) recently, seems like one of those people who is so desperate for friends he would say almost anything...it's like he's a child showing off and trying to be 'cool'. And it's so not working! He's obsessed with the bar and drinking...nope, it's not going to make you any more popular me old mucker...although maybe he's just trying to numb the pain? Tee hee.

It's thoroughly amusing how 90s it all is...especially as it tries to be kind of modern and futuristic, using terms like 'Cosmic Blowout'! My Catchphrase holiday destination (you can choose to go anywhere in the world) would, I think, be Tokyo...I wouldn't have to get jabs to go there right? Although I'd have to have won a lot of spending money. There are still a fair few places in Europe that I would like to see, but that is out of the question when they are paying for wherever you want to go; you may as well choose a stonkingly expensive one! It really annoys me when people choose to go to, say, Spain or Italy. Also on my 'must must' (visit) list are Canadia (sic), New Zealand and Las Vegas. Places like Vietnam and South America, no matter how much I want to see them, are currently ruled out by the aforementioned needle phobia. I WILL manage to get over it someday...I am not saying my goodbyes without having seen Angel Falls!

Rather tenuously linking on from here (for the fact that it was on tv and is based on a game), I watched 'Clue' recently. Why is the board game called Cluedo in the UK and Clue in the US? It's not like the latter are afraid of a bit of a 'do' (as a suffix at least!)...there's Where's Wally vs. Where's Waldo as proof of that! Anyhoo, 'Clue' was thoroughly cheesy and, therefore, quite entertaining. Anything which stars Tim Curry is always worth at least a sideways glance in my opinion.

Ok, onto the customary music bit (it is so dull when you have to retype everything!). If anyone fancies coming to see Josh Pyke, Kate Rusby or Sunny Sweeney in Newcastle, let me know (just Google for dates etc. if you are potentially interested)...I could do with going to a good gig. Scooch at G.A.Y. in no way made up for the fact that the festival we were heading down to London to catch was cancelled, and therefore we missed out on seeing Ms Ditto et al. Saying that, I am off to see Patti Smith, Joan As Police Woman and Bat For Lashes next week.

Whilst we are on a musical tip...I was looking on Wikipedia the other day, as I had heard that Alison Goldfrapp was from Alton, where I went to sixth form college. And indeed she is. Also mentioned as 'famous' people on the Alton page (bearing in mind that it is just a small market town) were two people I used to know! One is a friend of my parents...and I guess it is feasible that he is well-known, I just hadn't realised it. He is an artist and runs a mouth and foot painting gallery nearby (he was born without arms as his mother had been given thalidomide). The other is a girl I knew a little at college, and she is now an actress/playwright/screenwriter. How inferior does that make me feel??

In a similar vein, I was thinking the other day about how one doesn't necessarily always realise the impact one makes on people. A lot of people I went to school with have recently got back in touch via Facebook (if you don't already know what Facebook is, don't bother finding out...it is dull dull dull! And, as Becky says, it "dobs on you" everything you do!), and one of them has an e-mail address that is a phrase we had as an 'in joke' when we were teenagers. You always kind of look back from your own perspective only don't you? I mostly only remember the feeling of being a 'misfit' at school...strange that it takes something more concrete to also remember all the laughs and acceptances. Hmmm.

Back, from that slight aside, to music. I have been thinking of starting a 'rubbish song lyrics' thread. I shall start you off with a few choice cuts:

- 10,000 Maniacs - The Lion's Share: "The lambs go hungry (not fair)/The biggest portion is the lion's share" (stupid stupid stupid!).

- Des'ree - Life (although there are so many rubbish Des'ree lyrics to choose from, e.g. "What's your sign?/Do you know?/Let me guess/It's Scorpio"!!): "I don't want to see a ghost/It's the sight that I fear most/I'd rather have a piece of toast"...shockingly bad!

- Snap - Rhythm is a Dancer (yes, that old classic!): "I'm as serious as cancer when I say rhythm is a dancer". You what?

Ok, I really should be packing and stuff, so I shall go now. But before I do I shall just add this...it fucking amazes me...there was a link to this article in a video on YouTube...by Boh3m3:

http://www.orato.com/node/660/&page=1

(It's not a video Soo, just another web page, so you can probably check this one out!). The topic is 'conversion parties'. I'm afraid I don't have time to pitch in my two cents worth right now, but it's probably unnecessary anyway...seriously, what is this crap?

Until next time peeps. xxxxxxx

I am a broad bean...

...according to the 6 year old granddaughter of a pal of mine. She (the child) is fairly deaf, bless her, and at some point has heard 'lesbian' as 'broad bean'...lord knows how! Anyhoo, this is now how she refers to me! Tee hee...all jolly amusing. This introduction is entirely irrelevant to the forthcoming blog...I just wanted the enigmatic (well, alright, just darned silly!) title.

The only link between that and the rest of today's waffle is that I have been shopping with said grandmother.

I was opining the other night, as per my most recent previous blog, about how sick I am of clothes...mine, and in general...so we decided to shop together today to see if it helped. We only had a couple of hours though, so the experience may well have to be repeated. I continued on my own (after she had to leave in time for school pick-up) until all the shops had shut and now I am absolutely cream-crackered! I rarely go into Newcastle shopping, so it made a change, but I'll have to remember to steel myself for the onslaught next time around!

I bought (in chronological order):

- A pair of shoes...baby pink canvas slip-on thingies with little pictures of headphones all over them. Very cute. I love Office. There were also a couple of other pairs I really liked, but they didn't have the others in my size (damn you mahoofmus plates of meat!). No good heels in at the moment either. I love wedge heels (though not cork ones...the heel has to match the rest of the shoe...I'm so picky! If I buy stilettoes I wear the heels down far too quickly...don't know if it's a fat lass thing?). Wedge heels are supposed to be in fashion...so why can't I find them anywhere? I like to wear wedge heels whether they're in fashion or not (sheep-like fashion is such rubbish!), but you generally can't get them; now they're all over the magazines, but still don't seem to have made it to the shops...not in Newcastle anyway!

- A black t-shirt, also with headphones (and a walkman type thing) on it, and a green t-shirt with leaves and butterflies and such. Not 100% sure on the latter, but it was only eight quid!

- Goodbye Lenin and Hard Candy on dvd...neither of which I have seen, but both of which sounded worth watching.

- A Ramones 2cd set for £6.00...what a bargain! The Machinist on dvd (I watched some of it on the box once, but couldn't keep me peepers open until the end...and it was only £3.00. Speaking of movies on tv, I watched Dogville (in two sittings, as I couldn't stay awake until the end of that either!) recently...thought that was really well made). Roseanne Series One dvd box set...no idea when I will watch that, but it was a fiver, so I couldn't bring myself to leave the shop without it! And Feist (which I shall talk more about later).

- A lightweight black summer jacket (not sure why, seeing as I don't even wear a coat in winter...I just liked it) from H&M (which I still, all these years later, can't get out of the habit of calling Hennes).

Shall we play that shopping game where you have to add to the list and remember it all? Hmmm...maybe wouldn't work quite so well when it's all written down in front of you!

The general crises about clothing are not helped by the fact that smock-style tops and dresses seem to be everywhere and, whilst they are often very pretty, they just really don't suit me. They simply don't flatter the 'fuller figured' lady, and the top part always looks quite ridiculous trying to rein in my rather ample busom (or mammoth jubblies!).

Primark was, as usual, a let down. People rave about that shop...and I want to be able to buy dresses for £4.00! But, no matter how many items I try on, nothing in there ever fits me right. I don't mean that it's necessarily too small, just that nothing fits quite right. Which is a shame, because there was some pretty stuff this time I looked (and it was less scratch-your-eyes-out-jumble-sale than previous visits)...but then I guess that £4.00 or so just doesn't buy particularly exquisite tailoring! Someone want to teach me how to sew and amend?

In addition to Feist, which I bought after hearing it playing in Virgin Megastores (oh corporate wiles!), I have also been listening to Romeo Void's 'Benefactor' and 'Warm, In Your Coat' (they sound, and indeed were, really 80s...but in a good way. Think Blondie/Duran Duran/Lost Boys soundtrack...lots of horns, but with a kind of punk attitude. Difficult to explain...they sound like all and none of these things...well, except for the horn section, that is a fact...as is the punky lead singer wifey!)...and my shopping trip was accompanied by various Le Tigre, at least until my iPod died...damned iPod batteries! I am actually currently (as in right right now) listening to Erase Errata, but with the longest song on a 15 track album coming in at 2 minutes and 55 seconds (and the shortest a mere 47 seconds!) it will be long over by the time I finish this blog!

As for Feist...as per my usual form of taking several days to do pretty much anything, I am still making my way through last Sunday's Observer (and that's even after immediately tossing aside the sport section!). Had I read it before my shopping expedition, I would already have heard of Feist. They liked it. Here is the review:

'On her third album, Nova Scotia-born Leslie Feist has refined the sound of her hectic career thus far into 13 sparkling musical gems. She has cavorted in Berlin with Peaches and toured with vast Toronto alt-rock outfit Broken Social Scene [both of whom I also like - Divinyl], but now, with The Reminder, the 31-year-old has come brilliantly into her own. A quiet confidence fills slower numbers such as 'Limit To My Love', produced by long-time collaborator Gonzales, while the summery verve of '1234' and 'I Feel It All' provides an upbeat counterbalance, Feist's delicate voice, which she damaged as a punk-screaming teenager, beguiles throughout. Wonderful.' Killian [what kind of a name is that??] Fox

Briefly, whilst we are on the subject of music, I am looking forward to getting the chance to check out Datarock (http://www.myspace.com/datarock) at the Freevolution festival on the quayside (should that have a capital 'Q'?). There is, however, no-one playing this year (certainly not that I am familiar with to date) that excites me quite so much as having the chance to see Holly Golightly (for free folks...and she was ace) last year. The previous year I was all revved up for Kristin Hersh, but then she pulled out. MySpace music-wise, I am also quite liking Candypants (http://www.myspace.com/candypants), particularly the song 'Nerdy Boys'; however there is no 'add' (to profile) function against the songs, so they won't be something people will be able to hear me sporting. Think the next profile tune will be 'Power Lunch' by Har Mar Superstar (featuring the ever marvellous Ms Ditto! Grrr!)...really like that at the mo. And I also recently discovered Scream Club (http://www.myspace.com/screamclub), again due to Beth Ditto singing on one of their songs, 'If You Want It'...that's not up on their MySpace page I'm afraid though. I'm also liking what I have heard so far of Remi Nicole...although it may be that it gets a bit annoyingly Lily Allen-esque after repeated listens...not sure yet. Perhaps not something I could do with hearing on continuous play on the radio. 'New Old Days' was fun to hear though...for the referencing...if anyone is of a similar age to me (maybe slightly younger...I don't remember the tv programme 'Woof', as opposed to the book, playing quite such a big part in my upbringing! Maybe 'T Bag and T Shirt'...now you're talking!) you'll probably smile fondly through at least one listen.

Ok, back to the Observer...

(Oh dear, it's actually Sunday now...well, Monday morning in fact! I am SO rubbish!)

The first comment-worthy thing is the article on the Iranian music scene...really interesting reading. In summary, it was about how many types of music are banned...particularly Western music or music that is too heavily influenced by the west. And of course certain themes that do not 'fit' with strict Muslim beliefs also. All homegrown music, in order to have a chance of ever being heard, has to be passed via a strict governing body called something like The Ministry of Culture, a la 1984! Bands have to practice in secret, sound-proofed basements and concerts/gigs are extrememly rare, so the only outlet is often the internet. Even in the occasional concert that is allowed by the authorities, dancing is forbidden (in public in general), and therefore people must remain seated...the band having to stop to remind them if they get too excited. Whilst women are allowed (now) to perform alongside men, they are not allowed to sing solo and may only perform backing, not lead, vocals.

It's amazing to contrast that to the freedoms we are allowed in the world we know...how fortunate we are! Even with an America as seemingly dictated to (think how the media tries to 'scare' people...US news is even worse than in the UK...and far more 'we are the only country worth knowing about in the world') as it is, people still have the freedom to express themselves (almost) however they choose to...lyrically etc. And in terms of what they themselves are able to listen to. An eye-opening article indeed.

The other Observer thing I want to talk about (although there has been a whole new issue since this!) is the Book of Genius. The first thing was their horoscopes bit...what it means to be Taurean (as I am):

"Ruling the neck and voice in the 'heavenly body', Taurus is the sign of the orator"

Oh dear, they've summarised me so succinctly! Apparently:

"A genius was once described as someone with an IQ of over 130, which is also, give or take a point or two, the cut-off point for getting into MENSA. Only 1 in 50 people will qualify."

I don't know what my IQ is (and certainly don't claim to be a genius! Although that could bring us back around to the whole autistic spectrum debate again!), but online tests I have taken in the past (oh, many hours of boredom!) have put me around 130-140 something...between about 136 and 142 I think...it definitely wasn't an odd number. Personally, with a little knowledge of the subject, as someone who has studied psychology, I think the measurement of IQ is pretty bollocks, as it relies on so many other things...learning opportunities, culture, age (although it technically shouldn't) etc. This book on genius also cites The Great Gatsby as such. Am I missing something? I thought it was pretty dull and it left me rather cold. Maybe it takes one to know one eh? Genius that is.

The 'How To Become A Genius' section sees me entirely fooked...1. Get 8 hours sleep per night, 2. Eat breakfast, 3. Practice short-term memory, 4. Exercise, 5. Join a nunnery. None of which I do...or plan to do any time soon! And seeing as I only got 9/20 on the MENSA example test (it was 3.30am people!), I don't think it's something I have to be troubling myself over too much! Although, apparently, that means I'm in "pretty good shape"! It's the maths ones that stump me...it's automatic brain switch-off and shut-down! I object to having to spend the time trying to work them out when I don't enjoy it, so I give up fairly quickly. I also don't know how many yards are in a mile as I am a metric child (see...it's the learning opportunities argument again). This 'do it quickly or don't bother trying at all' ethos is very typical of me. It explains why I never stuck at gymnastics, the guitar, or anything else I wasn't very swiftly good at. A recent analogy is the addiction to online room escape, or point and click, games...I almost always do them with a walkthrough (therefore there's not much point I suppose, other than keeping me busy for a short while), rather than arse about trying to work them out for myself. Same with the mess and general lack of work on my house...it's a 'live in the now' thing...or more something of an inability to consider the future and longer-term consequences.

By the bye (I use the word 'incidentally' far too much!), did you know that Sir Jim'll Saville (who was Bababa...as is "you and you and..."?) is a MENSA member? And a freak?!! Genius, in this case, came in the form of a Louis Therous interview...instant classic! The programme that Mr Theroux had on the box a few weeks back about 'The most hated family in America' was also worth a watch. Apparently all US citizens (apart from the 'cult' themselves, obviously!) are doomed as the country is tolerant of gay people (not that tolerant eh Mr Bush? Mr Schwarzenegger?). So these people picket the funerals of soldiers killed in Iraq as they are fighting for a country that contains, or 'allows', gay people...that was the basic premise as far as I could understand it!

It's available to watch at http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4413388146858417528 if you fancy watching it for yourself...it's well worth a look. In my opinion, their best banner read 'Fags eat poop'...it's a "fact" apparently!

Speaking (ooh, this is tenuous!) of religion...I had a chuckle to myself on the bus on the way back from the aforementioned shopping trip. There was a sign outside a local church which read 'The best vitamin for a Christian is B1'...seriously, who thought that up?

The second half of OM magazine still remains to be read. I had taken it into the bath with me, but it got thoroughly drenched and may no longer be readable! The story is this...there had been a massive wasp in my bathroom for several days (at that point it was last seen nestling inside the neck of a carelessly discarded Kill Rock Stars t-shirt) and I was too scared of it to do anything to move it on other than leaving the window open on the off-chance! Whilst I was taking a bath a fly flew past me and I panicked so much I nearly caused a tsunami and there was water all over the bathroom floor...and OM. I'm sure you wanted to know that. So scared was I that I even looked up the lifespan of a wasp on t'internet...40 days in case you care. Thankfully this one must already have been rather senior and has now expired...phew!

Ok, my last words for now will...not even be my own! It's a quote, again from the Observer Book of Genius, of Leo Tolstoy...on listening to music:

"some strange, delightful feeling fills my soul to such an extent that I lose consciousness of my existence".

xxx

Further seemingly arbitrary musings...

I have been intending to post a new blog for some time now...I am such a slow poke (and tend towards laziness if left to my own devices!). I haven't even told you all about the Dolly concert yet have I? Fear not, I shall get to that.

But where to start? Well, I think the thing that is most on my mind at the moment is that I am supposed to be going on holiday tomorrow...Krakow for 5 days. My 'travelling companion' is not well and cancelled on me yesterday, so that sucks majorly! I've had it booked since January and was really looking forward to a break away...but not really feeling brave enough to go on my own at the moment. Gutting eh? I was perked up slightly by getting tickets (and a compadre) for a day festival in May, at which Gossip will be playing...oh yay! I am already slightly moist with anticipation!

I've been aware of Gossip (or The Gossip, as they were then) for a number of years, through my penchant for the record label Kill Rock Stars, but they have never totally made their way under my radar and I had not really given them the attention they deserve until I couldn't avoid doing so, because suddenly they are everywhere! I heart Beth Ditto...she is currently number one on my wish list...given that is unlikely I'd love to get my hands on a copy of her spread (fnar) for On Our Backs in June-July 2003...seems impossible to get hold of, even on eBay! I'd also totally love a white razor blade necklace as designed for her by Onch...sadly my budget will not stretch to spending quite so much on just one item! That's why this is called a 'wish' list! The next item on my wish list is some kind of coffee table book of Izima Kaoru's Landscapes With A Corpse, but that doesn't seem to exist! I saw him featured on Jonathan Ross' Japanorama (great show) and his work is fascinating.

The title says it all really, but basically he asks fashion models how they would like to die and shoots them as a corpse in that environment...truly on the very line of crossover between fashion and art. Ooh, speaking of which, I wonder if I can persuade my pal to check out the Gilbert and George exhibition with me whilst we are down in the big smoke? Worth an ask...if either of us are even vaguely physically capable of it the day after a hectic festival!

I did start a new blog some time ago, but my computer shut down and wiped it (I tend to leave them unfinished for days on end!). That started with a link to The Northern Life on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VO6ucOnBwHA

The rest of the episodes can be found through there as well (I tried to post this first one as part of my blog, but from the preview it doesn't look like it's having any of it). Thoroughly amusing...although I am rather slow and it took me truly ages to realise that it was a 'mockumentary'...it was still funny, I just initially thought it was about a real northern charva! It's all worth checking out, Buzzcocks' video diaries et al. Whilst on YouTube, I also found a video for Lily Allen's Smile in 'Simlish'...very clever, and clearly way better than the original! The 'Will It Blend' series is also pretty cool.

Whilst I'm merrily adding in links, I shall give one final plug to Aliens From the Planet Dave:

Play'>http://www.gamershood.com/flashgames/525">Play Aliens From The Planet Dave

The guy's website is also worth having a look at...if purely for his use of the word 'twunt'! He's a cool little dude I reckon:

http://www.leo-stuff.com/

The Nick Bounty games 'The Goat in the Grey Fedora' and 'A Case of the Crabs' are also pretty good (gorgeous looking), as are Johnny Rocketfingers (especially Part 2)

Play'>http://www.gamershood.com/flashgames/1365">Play Johnny Rocketfingers 2

and Arrival In Hell (took me ages to find the name of that one!). Ok, so my time off work hasn't been spent all that productively, but I've kept myself busy whilst being holed up in the house for days on end by myself...these sites really can take up hours of your life!

I have two major beefs for this blog. The first is, again, internet-related. What does all this 'Active-X control' crap I'm getting lately mean? All I understand is that it causes my computer to freeze and all of my open internet tabs to shut down...which is thoroughly annoying if I'm in the middle of something. The second rant is brief, yet important. It concerns smoothies. Y'know, the things you drink...if you are that way inclined. Particularly supermarket bottled ones...why is every flavour, no matter what it pretends it is, banana? All very annoying. Tenuously linked to that particular rant is what I was saying the other day about 'sodas' (read 'pop'!) in America...they are SO good! I want to be able to buy rootbeer and Snapple and grape soda...and any number of other wonderful things...from the corner shop! And I'd like England to have Jamba Juice stores too please...yum yum!

Back to music. In addition to my general excitement about being able to catch Gossip (having missed out on tickets to T in the Park), I am also off to see Patti Smith (legend!)...with my dad of all people! Following that we have a gig with both Joan As Police Woman and Bat For Lashes, which I reckon will be seriously worth checking out...and in July there's Nanci Griffith. All at the Sage incidentally. I do love mixing up the styles! The last gig was Camera Obscura (couldn't find anyone who fancied coming/could come along to see Polly Paulusma at the Cluny with me, so missed out on that one), who were really very good. And I liked the lead singer girl's outfit very much. One of their songs now features on a Florence and Fred at Tesco advert...it's all since I made them cool by going to see them y'know (never mind the back catalogue of about a squillion albums!)! (When I was in San Francisco last summer we were in this chi chi boutique in Cow Hollow...perusing their wares, which were ludicrously priced...and I was gushed over (not literally peeps!) by two of the shop assistants for my ever so stylish petrol blue handbag. It cost me £12 from Tesco...yay me! I so should've pretended that it was by some fab new British designer ("You mean you've never heard of F&F??")...instead I boasted about what a bargain it had been!).

Prior to that (Camera Obscura...keep with it!), we had Faithless and Dolly Parton within a couple of days of each other. Faithless was a really fun night (despite the ludicrous number of aggressive charvas), but was, of course, somewhat overshadowed by Queen Dolly herself. Oh my, she was A-MAZING! Seventy-two quid for a ticket, but I would have paid it again had you asked me there and then! It was like seeing Elvis or something...in fact, there was a point at which Elvis did come on stage to duet with Dolly (ok, so I don't think it was the real Elvis like!). Her voice is still crystal clear, and she thoroughly impressed me with the number of instruments she turned her hand to...guitar, banjo, piano, some kind of recorder/flute/penny whistle job...all from a woman who's only really expected to be there to sing...and look sparkly and rhinestone-bedecked!

She also did covers of 'Me and Bobby McGee', 'Those Were the Days' and 'Turn, Turn, Turn' which, in my opinion, were canny choices and a nice surprise. She actually introduced one song by saying (I may be paraphrasing slightly) "I'm no Norah Jones, but..."! To be that huge (in a famous sense, before the tit gags come rolling in) and still so self-deprecating? Sadly, my camera ran out of battery before getting to take any photos of Dolly (no, I'm not one of those wankers who sits and watches the whole gig through a camera lens, thus preventing anyone behind them in the audience from doing anything but the same! Tsk...why not actually live life, rather than document something you haven't actually seen properly, because you've been too busy documenting it...where's the joy in living vicariously?! It was a huge, seated gig at the Arena, and I would've only taken a couple)...the view was great though, and I did get a couple of shots on my new, snazzy lomo camera. That is good old 35mm though, so we'll have to wait a couple more photos to see how they (or indeed any of the film, given it is my first roll with my new toy!) turn out. If anyone cares it is a Actionsampler Flash...and I love it! It's so much fun to play around with, and learn to use well (am I getting ahead of myself here?)...it's also pleasingly shiny :o)

Oh sweet pumpernickel, I haven't even started on the notes in my phone yet peeps...best buckle up and get sitting comfortably for the long-haul! Before we move on, I've just remembered something I missed from my American 'corner store' bit earlier on...what on earth is trans fat? It is labelled on crisps and such over there, yet doesn't seem to exist in England! I'm sure that's not true and that we just don't label it...if anyone knows, please tell me, because it's far too boring a thing to be hooving around the internet trying to find out and I'm not sure I care quite that much!

Speaking of trans however, I watched a programme this evening called 'Mr Miss Pageant'. I have lots of things to say about this, mostly because I am confused about what I think of the main guy in it...apologies in advance if I am not over-pc in my thinkings...not out to offend anyone. Feel free to enlighten me if you feel it to be necessary. The main guy we were following, to a contest in Thailand, was from County Durham somewhere and lived full-time as a man, whereas generally the contestants were MTF living their lives as women. What was strange, or more confusing, I suppose, to me was that this man was too scared to go into shops to buy female clothing or shoes, yet said that the eroticism he felt from being dressed as a woman was...well, basically unlike anything else. He even said that he got more turned on by himself, when dressed as a woman, having sex with his girlfriend than he did by his girlfriend, and for this reason needed to be surrounded by mirrors. Is this just the sexualisation of the taboo?

I was confused over whether to think he was 'closeted' about who he was because he felt ashamed or whether he was just living his life as he wanted to, and wanted to keep this thing about himself as 'special' and, fuck everyone else, why do they need to know his business. I, sadly, think it was the former. Hopefully being brave enough to do this programme was a very liberating experience for him...a 'coming out'. By the end he told his mother...it's just a shame he felt he had to stew on it for 41 years before getting up the courage to tell her, spending time in London being a 'weekend tranny'. Incidentally, his mother was way cooler than he was! Tee hee.

His whole routine (or 'talent' slot, or whatever) was about being 'caught out' in changing from man to woman...clothes etc. wise, that is, not hormone or surgery-wise. I think it was rather misjudged given the audience this was for...and uncomfortably, even from safely in front of my tv screen, highlighted the problems he had accepting himself. Still, I suppose we've all had them at some time in our lives...to one extent or another. I would have liked to have learnt more about the cultural (and religious, if relevant) aspect of the woman from Egypt (who we also 'got to know' a little), who hadn't seen her family in 4 years and wasn't 'allowed' to attend her brother's wedding unless she went as a man. Still, at least it was told from the standpoints of a couple of the contestants, rather than just a 'ha ha, look at the silly trannies' rubbish-fest.

Think it's available for free on 4OD this week if anyone fancies having a squizz.

Well, as per my usual offerings, this blog entry has now been sitting here (written to this point) for two days! Suppose I should finish it really! Hmmm...I think I shall (re-) start with some bleating about my wardrobe...I am just so uninspired by my whole wardrobe at the moment...or rather the clothes in it...if my clothes, clean or otherwise, actually ever made it into a wardrobe! I used to really have an 'identity', and I miss that :o( Nothing (that I own, or that I can find in shops) feels like 'me' any more. Maybe I should learn to sew and create for myself some fashion masterpieces? But that would maybe take some sort of effort and I'm so not good at that right now!

I miss places from my Londinium days like Hyper Hyper in Kensington and the Bluebird Garage on the King's Road...sadly both now defunct. Although, saying that, they probably only did (relatively) skinny teenage girl sizes anyway, and I would just end up getting annoyed with there being a lack of offerings to fit my now rather womanly frame! I miss Camden Market and its glorious original (and cheap!) 70s clothes too...again that's kind of a teenage thing that you can never recapture with the same enthusiasm though eh? On a 'fashion' kind of tip though, I did succumb to buying a couple of pieces from Onch. Not quite as brillo-pads as the necklace I was talking about further up, but still rather smashing (and a helluva lot cheaper!). I await their arrival with baited breath...bless credit cards!

I am just back in (yes, I got sidetracked again!) from a jaunt to the beach; I love the beach I do! I was going seriously stir crazy being stuck in the house and, luckily, Sue was available to entertain me for several hours. We decided to just go for a drive and see where we ended up (not quite like the Edinburgh time with Lou and James...that's another, quite long, story, which I shall save for another time!). Where we ended up was Cambois (pronounced 'cammus', in case you think it's some classy French thing) beach...at about half nine at night in the freezing cold...oh yay, such fun! I have had to take my jeans off now (mmm...just to provide you with a lovely mental picture of me sat here in me pants, (currently) hairy legs n'all!) as they were wet right up to the knee from going paddling...not very effective rolling there eh Divinyl? Much fun...and I, to boot, came home with a gifted bottle of sloe gin. Thank you m'dear!

Ok, onto my customary televisual observations...

I finished my Northern Exposure Series 5 box set some time ago...the 6th is not out until June and is the final one...cripes, I don't ever want to it end! It's something I only caught sporadically when it was on tv, which caused me to buy the first season on dvd, and from there I was hooked! As with my previous ranting about how Neighbours provides one with a sense of security...Northern Exposure has exactly the same effect...only with better surrealisms! For example: Fleischman, the doctor who has been posted there from New York somewhat against his will, talking to his rabbi (from the Big Apple) inside the belly of some Alaskan take on the Loch Ness monster. And I totally cried when Shelley gave birth. I wish they'd made twelvety series! I don't like that blacksmith man who pops up at the end of the dvd though...he scares me and totally shatters the sense of security that has been built up...when they do the close up of his eye? Well, personally, I think that's way scarier than Sadako! Tee hee. As a brief aside...why has Twin Peaks Series Two never been released on dvd? Very odd.

Mostly unrelated, but vaguely televisual...did you know that a film crew includes a dolly grip and a swing gang? I shall have to start watching the credits more intently for further amusing job titles!

Advert-wise, I am mostly being offended by the one with the 'token' BME child telling us about the aroma of his excrement. Unnecessary! Who on earth were the advertising execs responsible for that? And who comprised the focus group?! Paedophilic scattists? Sorry...that was maybe a bit sick even for me.

BBC3 (do you remember when Roland Rat used to talk about BBC3 and it was funny because it didn't exist? I loved Roland Rat...I even had the stuffed toy and 'The Cassette of the Album' on vinyl...happy days!) seems to have trumped even itself this time. Whilst perusing the schedules t'other day, I noticed that they were showing a programme called 'My Man Boobs and Me' ('daddaries', as I like to call them). I didn't watch that one...although I do love the word 'gynaecomastia'...not for the meaning like. I guess it's part of their recent strain of body-related programmes...I quite enjoyed 'F*%k Off! I'm A Hairy Woman', but Lucy the teen transsexual (another prog entirely!) was just very annoying...male or female, you just need to stop whining!

I was going to write something relatively high brow about the book 'The Interpretation of Murder' (for which I had to keep a dictionary by me, as there were so many words that, even though I could figure out their sense within the context, I didn't know the meaning of and therefore, pedant that I am, had to be looked up...I love learning (and also making up) new words), but it seems such a long time ago that I read it now. The only comment that I shall make is that one generally cannot improve upon Shakespeare (there was lots to do with Hamlet in the novel):

"I wished my too-solid body might break up and disperse into the dirt of the street" (Jed Rubenfeld)

is really no comparison to:

"Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt, / Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew".

Not really worth even trying!

Things I have been addicted to this month include: Hanjie (love it...can keep me busy for hours! It's a Japanese colouring book/logic puzzle), Dairylea Strip Cheese, Gossip (the band)...erm, that's about all for now I think folks (of the addictions at least!).

Currently listening to...

I was listening to Leonard Cohen's 'I'm Your Man', after watching Secretary on the box a couple of weeks back (wanted to have it as my MySpace choon, but it doesn't seem to be available, so we're currently back to good ole Kathleen Hanna) and, following that, my iTunes took me to The Levellers. I haven't listened to them for years!! Totally that teenage-ly familiar music...it's making me smile because it seems like such a long time ago! Incidentally (I seem to be using that word a lot), whilst looking up Leonard Cohen on there, I noticed that one of the pages classed him as 'death metal'...genius!

One final link...a site which I found quite by accident the other day:

http://www.carvingpumpkins.com/celebs/celebs.html

Smashing or what?? (Ooh, in re-reading this, I just realised there's a 'geddit?' in there...like Smashing Pumpkins! Completely unintentional!).

Toodle pip me sweets. xxx

The big clean-up

Phase One..................................complete.

And I even have time to post this blog before my guest arrives...yay me! I have a clean and tidy house...it's amazing what the threat of having someone to stay can do! It is also amazing that I haven't died from dust inhalation in the process!

So, it is now spick and span :o) I didn't actually know what that phrase meant, so I looked it up in my Dictionary of Idioms (don't you wish your girlfriend was a geek like me? Doncha?). It goes like this:

"It was only in the mid nineteenth century that spick and span came to mean 'tidy, clean and orderly'. Formerly the phrase was spick and span-new, equivalent to brand new.

The phrase has its origins in an Icelandic word spannyr, itself compounded from span (a chip of wood) and nyr (new). The sense was 'as new as a shaving freshly cut from the block'. Middle English had the expression span-new. Chaucer uses the phrase in Troylus and Cryseyde: 'This take was aie span-newe to begin.'

Spick (spike or nail) was added to form the extended expression in the sixteenth century.

See also: in apple-pie order, brand new."

Ok...I know you really cared to read that, but this is MY space here! Tee hee. Blummin' annoying lots of italics though. I certainly have never heard the phrase 'in apple pie [why the hyphen?] order'...must be American I reckon.

Phase Two, when I can be arsed (don't hold your breath!) is to 'Life Laundry' the junk room I have now created in my front bedroom...I really don't need all this stuff! Most of it's been sitting in boxes since I moved in over 2 years ago, so it's hardly in frequent usage!

Until Phase Two is complete, do not...I repeat DO NOT...open the bedroom cupboard! There is serious risk of death from avalanche! It's actually not that bad, courtesy of the aforementioned junk room.

But my house, even with these failings, has never been cleaner or tidier...well, certainly not since I've lived in it anyway! I just hope I can maintain it...or at least not let it get as bad as it was! I have even invited people over for the first time in I really can't remember how long!

Now that Phase One is complete it may actually be possible to start getting some work done on the house itself (which, as you may recall from my previous bloggings, is something of a tumbledown shack in need of its fair share of renovations...damn you Kirstie Allsopp and your wily ways...when I saw this house I saw potential...I just didn't realise that I didn't have any!). Where to start on that is a whole other question! But the prospect of actually being able to live in my house, rather than merely kind of squat, is a pleasing one.

Phase Three? Taking over the world! Mwahahahaha!

More of the same...

"Come into my world, I've got to show, show, show you"...it's too scary here alone!

This blog has been sitting here with that much written for about 3 days on my computer screen! I am hardly Miss Motivation at the moment! It is Sunday and, in my opinion, Sundays are incredibly boring, so I thought I'd have a bash at actually writing something! Beware though peeps that this one is something of an epic monster-blog!

It's been another one of my vagabond weekends. I went out Friday night...Rock and Doris (the local lesbian night...make that the only lesbian night! Something which I would normally avoid like the plage, but Doris is actually rather good and always has bands on). Really enjoyed the band this time actually (Drei...who are playing at the Egypt Cottage tonight along with the fabuloso Lake Me for anyone that's interested) and I thought that the singer lady sounded like Alison Russell out of Po' Girl, which has to be a good thing! Anyway...I got drunk, mostly sitting in the same place like I was on my throne and waiting for people to come to talk to me...which, amazingly, they did! So I did quite a bit of drinking, quite a bit of chatting, and then, after we'd left there, quite a bit of crying, confiding and feeling sorry for myself! And I hadn't even touched the gin I'd secretly stashed in my bag!

Thank you to Sue for being a wonderful friend...it's amazed me recently how wrongly you can interpret those who you think you can and can't rely on. People I thought would be there no matter what have barely been seen for dust, those I have had a more casual friendship with have really come out of the woodwork and helped they wouldn't believe how much! And that includes you Soobaloo!

So, I got home from Sue's at about 5.30pm yesterday...again with no sleep at all and in the previous evening's make-up and clothes! I had to do the walk of shame (only for the lack of any actual shame!) back to Gateshead, where I somehow kept my battered body awake until stupid o'clock this morning. I have now slept, but I'm not sure it's affected the (in)sanity much! I am (generally) managing to get my sleeping into a bit more of a pattern lately, which is a relief... it's just a shame that pattern involves initially getting to sleep around 3.30am and waking around 5.30am! Great for my future prospects of holding down my job!

I shall warn those of you out there who actually read these things now...this is likely to be another of my epic blogs about pretty much nothing at all! Oh, I've already done that haven't I? My uber-blogging seems to know no bounds when I actually get started; well, I want to make each visit worth my while! In my usual slightly anal and certainly very procrastinatory way, I have kept some notes on stuff I want to rant about...and from the overview I have I can reassure you that it's just a load of codswallop (do you know the story of that word? The theory goes that it's all about a Mr Codd, who invented a bottle with a marble in the neck, which had to be pushed in to open the bottle and get to the contents. He made soft drinks. Wallop was a term for beer, so any beer that was a bit like piss-watter, i.e. not very strong, was referred to as 'Codswallop', or a bit rubbish...and this part of the rant wasn't even planned! Oh dear, I think it's going to grow exponentially as I go...we could be here some time!).

Shall we get the critiques of new (to me) tv programmes out of the way first? Just as a way of reassuring everyone that my time is being spent productively! (Omigod...I am ready to cry...I had typed about an hour's worth of rant beyond here and the screen's just refreshed itself all on its own and lost it all! I shall try my best to remember...because it actually wasn't really all that worth remembering...but I just know that I'm going to get that niggling feeling, when I'm done, that it sounded better the first time round!). Anyway, onwards and upwards!

The first is a kids' programme called 'Stupid'.It is like the freaky bastard son of Why Don't You? and that strange thing that used to be on Channel 4 with small children dancing around in make-up...Kiddiepops or whatever it was called. The premise is basically little peeps trying to do some Catherine Tate-esque sketch show. It really is Stupid, just unfortunately not in a very good way! Give me Art Attack instead any day! The occasional surreal almost Boosh-ism though, which I suppose can't be knocked! Following that came Raven, which looked a bit like Knightmare (that show was so ace!), only not so good, and had children in Crystal Maze / Fort Boyard / twatty Dungeons and Dragons-stylee role-play mode. My brain is seriously atrophying...I worry about kids these days...don't know they're born...all this was fields etc. etc.

On to (vaguely) more adult viewing, again (as per a previous blog) in the form of Hollyoaks, which recently has seen a mother walking in on her 15 year old daughter, who she didn't even know was pregnant, giving birth on the kitchen floor. Genius...or maybe just a little way short of subtlety eh? We are also being treated to a storyline about a young and pretty gayboy...note that he is 17 however, and therefore legal for all the poofs out there to be perving over of a hungover Sunday morning...methinks that may have been rather carefully planned! Anyway, this young man's sister had just bought him tickets to go and see Dolly Parton...and he was dissing Dolly! Do you think I should write to Offtel, or whoever it is that polices such things?? How very dare he! I am sure, however, that the fact that I myself am due to go and see Dolly in just over a week should be enough to keep me all perky and chipper...bring it on!

Unbelievably it's just deleted itself again! Only this time I had copied this far into a blank e-mail message (I don't have Word, or I'd just do it all there to start of with and avoid all of this palaver!). So, for the third time now I am going to have my rant about Rick Waller (do you think my computer's trying to tell me something?). He was on Never Mind the Buzzcocks recently sporting new long hair and a rather fetching facial 'do'...and looking like a cross between an ex-flatmate of mine and a lass that used to, rather disconcertingly, fancy me (yes, it does happen occasionally!). Also on the same show was the gentleman who plays Robin Hood in the new tv series (apparently...that is something which I have never seen!), who looks exactly like Dave, the lovely drumming boy from Fickle Brink, and Rotherham's finest! Like separated at birth alike...on a par with Sandi Toksvig, Jeremy Beadle and Clive Anderson and their short little arms, creepy hands and no necks! Only Dave doesn't seem to have any of these afflictions (fortunately!) and therefore maybe it's not such a good analogy!

While we are on a South Yorkshire tip, I was pondering again on Rusby-shaped matters and smiling at her flat Barnsley vowels when she sings. And she seems like such a canny lass...why is it that no-one I've ever met who comes from Barnsley (ok, so it's not that many people) has ever even heard of her? Barnsley should be proud enough to want to erect a statue! All of the people whom I have had the pleasure to meet who hail from Barnsley have, unfortunately, been knobheads...to be fair, most of of them have been on the gay scene in Newcastle which, in general, seems to be replete with imbeciles! Obviously save for my lovely friends who might be out there reading this of course! Anyway, I was reminded of a 'lovely' couple, who we shall call Keith and Kim for those were their names, who I once met in The End.

At one point in the conversation, I kid you not (and I don't even need to paraphrase for effect...this is as out of the horse herself's mouth!), Kim asked me, "So are you gay or are you normal?"!! What the fuck? So I replied that "I am gay AND normal" (ok, so the 'normal' bit of that may be taking some slight liberties with the truth, but I was trying to prove a point!). Kim then piped up in response with, "Oh, so you're bi then?". I give up!

Ok, two further meditations on televisual entertainment and then we are done...with that topic at least (you really thought you were going to get off that lightly?). The first is simply to say that I am loving the new Guinness ad...the one with the hands. For those of you who have not yet been lucky enough to catch it, it can be seen at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQDjynOzgCk

The other is for Jules...just so I don't get told off for my omissions (note O-missions and not E-missions!) this time around! Imagine if you really could get Kirstie Allsopp (complete with rather dapper yellow jacket) from a vending machine! Put that tongue away please Jules!

Actually, I lie...I have two more adverts to comment on before I am quite done with this. Anyone looking for more philosophical rantings and artistic and critical analyses really would be best off someplace else! I need to talk about the Picture Loans ad (I am squirming a little just from having to use their name, thus potentially spreading the word about their products!)...I just need to get it off my chest! I'm sure you know the one...with the 'Geordie' (written like that on purpose...that accent is so fake and patronising!) wife saying "That's greeeeat!" and "Josh, Dad's found ya scoo-ah"! Hate it; please remove it from our screens!

The other is the Pilgrim's Choice...Choice on toast...macaroni Choice one. It makes me feel sick every time they say that (almost like that one for Otex ear drops, with the images of disintegrating ear wax...I have to turn away from the screen! Yeurch! Everybody now..."Footsteps on the dancefloor (Remind me baby of you), Eardrops in my eyes". Tee hee). I seriously want to hire a hitwoman (jobs for the girls!) to track down the team behind thinking that concept up! I don't know why it makes me feel so sick, but it's when they say 'choice' in place of 'cheese'...I can't stand it...I feel the same way about that as I do about words like moist and poignant and the name Phoebe, where the vowels are all up next to each other (and which I have mentioned before, so I will not digress into further for now!). I do often wonder if I am not slightly autistic spectrum! Lol...shut it you cheeky ones in the back. 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time' seemed perfectly reasonable to me in places! Chortle. Although not the maths-y bits! I do think that, if you start to analyse too closely, everybody has something diagnosable in them...like OCD...that seems quite prevalent; OCD-isms anyway, for those that can actually be arsed to worry about one thing that much!

Back, briefly, to the words and vowels thing again. The French are bad for that, with words like soeur...don't get me wrong, French is a beautiful language, and one that I used to have mastered really rather well, but at which my prowess is now all too rusty! But, anyway...French women...yum (although perhaps often a bit thin)! And expat British women in France...I still think of you every day you know. But I try to only let myself think for so long, as otherwise it just hurts too much that I can't have you in my life...which is more my fault than anyone else's. You are beautiful and for you I would give up the world I know and love you so hard!

For anyone reading this I am digressing, of course, into rather risque emotional territory...something which I have sworn against. It is ok though, as Ms Expat will never read this and so I am safe! My failings in the use of the French language were recently proved by a somewhat melancholy message to the woman above...it didn't even mean what I'd intended it to mean...doh! And that's when I've done really well and haven't contacted her in yonks and yonks...you can't wish things into being. But damn you insomnia and the texts you make me send! My final comment here flies straight in the face of what a certain Mr Dando had to say...I don't just want a bit part in your life; I can't handle it that way, so it's just easier to (try to) cut all ties.

Speaking of foreign affairs, I'm starting to panic a little about being able to get annual leave from work for Krakow (I hope I'm back at work by then!!), because I haven't been there to book it in. I totally need a break away somewhere and a bit of a refresher, so cross your fingers for me! And it would be a lovely bonus if Polish women are as hot as Czechoslovakian women...I refer specifically to Barbara Nedeljakova who was in the film Hostel. Yum! I'll do without the consequences though thanks! She is, however, a bit thin...but I'm sure I could feed her up a bit...I can think of several ways of giving her the munchies! Snigger.

I was thinking the other day, courtesy of some (relatively) artsy and highbrow viewing material (no, that doesn't mean porn...it actually means some documentary / interview thingy with Gilbert and George about their Tate Modern exhibition!) about what would make a lovely date...or more like weekend away really. Saturday would be brunch and people-watching in Covent Garden, before heading to the Gilbert and George exhibition then taking a walk, hand in hand, along the Thames. If there was time we could maybe take in a show that evening, before finding a bite to eat and heading out to somewhere slightly shady such as Heaven. When we got back to the hotel we would spend the night learning each other before heading out for some fresh(ish) Sunday air on Hayward's Heath...and swimming and sunbathing there if it's warm, kissing and laughing in the sun. Sunday night it's back home and spending the evening lazing, cuddling and listening to music, before falling asleep in each other's arms with our eyes shut so tightly against the weekend coming to an end! There is currently no other person to make up this 'we', so I'm just being a soppy old romantic really! Equally lovely would be finding some country cottage to hide away in...come on ladies, get those offers flooding in!

And in the somewhat disconnected travels of my brain, back to talking about tv adverts we go! Figure that link! Have you seen the one for smoked pork sausage?? The voice over man is talking in a voice that sounds like he's trying to be a bit sexy. In my personal opinion, sex and sausage do not a match make, so it just makes me feel a bit queasy! On so many levels. So, no thanks mister, I don't want your sausage! I feel so strongly about this that I might actually get a t-shirt made up that says 'Sausages Aren't Sexy'! Top that! Seriously...for those of you who are of slightly more advanced years than me, and who never had the late 80s pleasure of watching the marvellous film that is Teen Witch, check out the song 'Top That' on YouTube...thoroughly classy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYoaqVbJoR8

Now that is entertainment! And has got to be better than the shite that the airwaves are being filled with nowadays...BBC3 had a programme on the other day (which, sadly, I didn't manage to catch!) that was actually called 'Help! My Dog's As Fat As Me'! I am, however, loving how dirty watching Countdown whilst being off work makes me feel! And I can kid myself that I'm keeping my brain active. Really it's just to gawp at the strange, orange, plastic people and the nerds! Fnar. Suzie Dent, of Dictionary Corner fame, is also clearly very naughty...sod you and your obvious stylings Ms Vorderman, I'd rather plump for the filth concealed behind that nerdy librarian facade! I really do need to be getting back to work before the rot sets in irretrievably...I really don't know how people do this long-term! To me it seems that it insidiously destroys both the mind and the soul (the body's already fooked!).

Ok, so finally we are at the tying up loose ends part of this blog. Firstly I shall mention Martha Tilston...check her out on MySpace...I'm willing to forgive a great deal for a lass that has an album called 'Bimbling', so I'll merrily put up with a few dodgy, binty lyrics...sounds quite pretty if you ignore that. The other music-themed thing is Josh Pyke...he's playing at the Academy on Monday and I'm gutted I won't get to go and see him because I already have tickets to see Faithless the same night. Which I'm rather nervous about, given that I don't dance! The other thing I missed that sounded like it was worth checking out was Robodisco at Moot (which I haven't been to since it isn't The Stout Fiddler any more):

www.myspace.com/robodisco2007

Right, I think that really is it...if there are any competitions for longest blog about nothing in history, please let me have the details!

Currently reading: The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas - John Boyne

Currently listening to: The Waifs...The Wailin' Jennys (simply courtesy of that being what came next...anyway, nice segue, so thanks iTunes!)...Fiona Apple...Flaming Lips...Erykah Badu...Ben E. King...Ben Harper...I have been here some time and listened to quite a lot...and now it isn't even Sunday any more (so I'm afraid you have also missed the Egypt Cottage gig I mentioned earlier by now!)!

Currently washing with: Original Source Tea Tree and Mint Shower...I love minty things..yum!

Ok, so I'm not reading, listening, washing, watching and typing all at the same time, but this blog has taken me so long to put up that have done all of these things and more!

Currently flapping over: Getting my house tidy (-er) in time for the weekend...I found out yesterday I'm to have a house guest...aargh! Unfortunately, however, the internal panic has not yet translated into action and here I am sitting at my computer! As Katy said...I am the queen of procrastination! Does anyone have a number for Kim and Aggie??

Blogging is such vanity and self-indulgence isn't it? xxxx

Current Mood: Oh so many whizzing past all too fast!