tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56136822012-02-16T14:32:23.954ZJourney through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.comBlogger10041100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-67231140752558051572011-03-25T11:48:00.005Z2011-03-25T11:56:06.193Z

The only way I get to see the popular musical charts these days is keep one eye on the tunes they play in my gymnasium, which tends to be thumping, dizzying nonsense with lots of people ‘featuring’ people and rapping. That’s until 9.30am, when all the hardcore people have trotted off to their proper jobs, and then they play somewhat more sedate things for the likes of me who is more content to do

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-72926322498835766302011-01-24T16:21:00.001Z2011-01-24T16:22:36.768Z

New Year's Eve. Someone gleefully pointed out that you don't get a blindingly shiny new year after midnight. You don't get the promise of a exponential list of possibilities. What do you get? You get January. I was sober for New Year's Eve due to complications of having my wisdom teeth out and fallen foul of a 'dry socket', which is where the hole where the teeth once were doesn't scab properly

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-38218690427298946122010-12-21T14:06:00.001Z2010-12-21T14:06:55.167Z

So currently, I’m all about the painkillers and the Dame Shirley Bassey remix album. I didn't want to be a gay cliche, it just sort of happened. I got some white pills that fizz on my tongue, and some pink ones that go well with my pyjamas, and some turquoise ones that make me drowsy and when I take them I they’re a bit like a K-hole, and I come round discovering I’d been looking at clips of ‘

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-14016999403536702182010-07-14T10:18:00.000Z2010-07-14T10:19:26.449Z

So far I haven’t been seduced by the smartphone revolution because I’m a luddite who barely understood teletext when that was on. And yet, here I stand on the cusp of a contract upgrade, willfully holding back on whatever must-have gadget that is currently doing the rounds. I am naturally reticent to get an iTelephone because I’ve made my feelings on any and all of Apple’s smug Talking Tupperware

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-27224859329920991892010-07-08T11:14:00.003Z2010-07-08T11:17:58.370Z

Oh yes, the Daily Express. Well done. I thought you’d take the positive view on this one.Bit of back story for you Johnny Foreigners: the Daily Express is read by six people, all of them hate anyone who doesn’t like Antiques Roadshow and wears ‘a funny hat’. They normally spend their headlines saying either saying that an everyday object can give you cancer, or that Diana, Princess of Wales was

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-61889340580917053972010-07-06T14:33:00.001Z2010-07-06T14:35:55.868Z

I have a sudden urge to hang up my Ruby Slippers. I’m no longer feeling like the gayest gay in the neighbourhood.This weekend was Pride, for one. I’ve never been proud in the slightest, and can’t abide crowds. Gay crowds even more. Where crowds of straight men tend to bellow (cf football matches), a mince (a clutch? a squeal?) of gay men tend to bleat. Whenever Hazel Dean is inevitably wheeled

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-52969631878968811862010-06-25T13:17:00.000Z2010-06-25T13:18:45.521Z

You know, I haven't seen an episode of this quagmired sci-fi sitcom since giving up at the end of Season Two when someone was pressing buttons and the island exploded. It had been two years and firstly,there'd been no answers of any kind, and secondly, there'd been absolutely no toothpaste dropped on the island, leading me to shudder whenever Sawyer played kissy-kissy with that one with the hair.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-77366323183067607392010-06-06T12:34:00.005Z2010-06-13T08:42:25.207Z

Well, will you look at that..! There's a dastardly pink counter on this Blogger desktop that tells me that This Very Post is my one thousandth entry into the blogosphere. How fancy! I think we should celebrate, don't you? Strike up the piano, let's have a bit of a champagne and a sing-song before the usual happens: I get a bit too drunk and end up waking in an alleyway, wiping some stranger's

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-28936079968544183862010-06-06T11:59:00.006Z2010-06-06T12:36:54.063Z

'Peter Pan' seems pretty gay-friendly, right? A boy who refuses to stop having fun and turning every girl into his 'mother', thus instantly eliminating any sexual tension between them. And the only other women mentioned are mermaids - who want to keep hold of you in their fishy domain for the rest of your life (their words, not mine). Oh and Tigerlily, who is so clearly on the Girl Bus, with all

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-45587382443527472552010-05-17T19:37:00.003Z2010-05-17T20:02:06.705Z

Hello, what's this? A new Kylie album? How lovely! Who isn't going to be drawn in by its gorgeous cover depicting Dame Minogue calling all the Gentlemen Who've Locomotioned to prayer? And - bonus - the first single 'All the Lovers' is about on the interweb too. It's fabulous, and has Kylie once again doing that seductive, breathy singing she's taken to of late (perhaps vocal chords botoxed as

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-75887644472524343882010-05-03T14:22:00.002Z2010-05-03T14:24:44.522Z

The 80s were the first decade I can properly recall, you know. So this sudden lust for power ballads and tight perms fills me with the same detached concern my mother had when I started idolising her decade of the 70s, when I was listening toChakka Khan on repeat and wanting hair as straight as Cher's. I think that's why she was concerned, although the impromptu performances of 'I'm Every Woman'

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-47162604299899823872010-04-02T07:18:00.012Z2010-04-02T17:28:50.307Z

Well there we have it, darling reader. Another flamboyantly camp pop star finally sticks their head out from under the hot rollers and tells us something we'd already guessed. No no, not Ricky Martin, this time I'm pointing at ovoid-faced chanteuse Lady Gaga, who's here to tell us that she's now a bona-fide superstar by starring in her own epic video, 'Telephone'. So lets not talk about the

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-19937782332407119092010-03-20T11:08:00.002Z2010-03-20T11:11:25.393Z

The first thing I do when I get into a hotel room is hide the Bible. You want to create a space you're comfortable in, and the chances are I'm going to be doing something considered ungodly, and you don't want the proximity of 'the good book' near your head. Or your ankles - it all depends.(As a sidebar, I also Take Against the name 'the good book' as the seeming movie subtitle for the Bible

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-66406978488212460582010-02-23T08:34:00.003Z2010-02-23T08:47:59.419Z

Well, it was about time this place got a lick of pixel-paint, wasn't it? Anyway, in switching over to the new streamlined template, I've finally gotten rid of Blogroll's (*hack**spit*) diabolical listing of blogs. Which, ah, means if you want a link to your own effort, leave me a comment in the box below and I'll take a look. And I will judge you. Oh yes, I will judge you. And if you make me

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-16596813370502306962010-02-23T08:30:00.004Z2010-02-23T16:10:00.025Z

Megan Mullally was in town all last week performing her one-woman show, meaning that Soho was pretty much a ghost town for much of it. Of course I got tickets, darling: you get a special discount for being a fairy. Simply present three tokens from the back of any Nivea variants with an extravagant hand gesture and you were swifty shown to your seats. Although I must not have sashayed correctly as

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-9602385555354898632010-02-19T10:18:00.006Z2010-02-19T16:48:35.845Z

And so, my ongoing - and frankly ridiculous - brush with fame.Now you may know from infrequent visits to this dastardly pink site is I do like a nice, beared man in the same manner of some gentlemen like a finely turned ankle, or how a serial killer likes a power tool sale at Home Depot. So when I was approached by the lovely Tara in that burger place to be an extra in a film because she liked my

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-23108697142617898502010-02-05T10:35:00.004Z2010-02-06T09:39:32.449Z

In the seeming ongoing quest for my boyfriend to play 'Enry 'Iggins to my Eliza Doolittle, we went to the opera on Monday. So far his attempts to educate me have been subtle twists in established routines: swapping my viewing of Star Wars with some French arthouse film (I only noticed when the subtitles were not about Han owing money to Jabba the Hutt, but how without you, today's emotions would

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-49661464901096169372010-01-29T10:40:00.001Z2010-01-29T10:40:32.882Z

So I was having a burger in what equates to an upmarket McDonalds (very well, you may serve beer, but you still have to go to the tills to order your bacon & avocado burger like some rat-haired commoner spending her benefits on Chicken McNuggets) when I noticed some woman looking at me. Now this happens rarely, but it does happen. Here's your for instance: I was at a house-party the other week

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-36783384932846677242010-01-20T09:43:00.001Z2010-01-20T09:43:57.240Z

Here's a list of adverts getting on my goat. Because I need to share the pain.1) Evian Roller BabiesApparently this travesty is in the top ten things watched on YouTube last year (the top of which being Susan Boyle showing us all you can't judge a book by its floral print, badly-plucked cover). I can't abide it. I don't care if it looks realistic and cute, the idea of babies on rollerblades

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-30597454738204235542010-01-13T09:25:00.001Z2010-01-13T09:27:45.946Z

Well, bang goes my new year's resolution of writing this more regularly.Well, happy new year, darling readers. Welcome to the hopefully scandalous Twenty-Tens! I'm here due to slight insomnia and sudden reappearance of snow, I decided to trek into work early and get a bit of work done. Well, read that as 'a couple of rounds of Treasure Madness on Facebook, a nasty Starbucks coffee, and a

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-30103287362079080622009-12-18T13:57:00.001Z2009-12-18T13:57:27.641Z

For some reason, whenever we have snow, everyone starts dressing like a lesbian.I'm taking this unusually festive weather as a personal affront to my hatred of Christmas. While everyone is giddily skipping around and talking about watching 'The Box Of Delights' for the umpteenth spin (Children's BBC drama that I missed the first time around, rendering it meaningless to go back and try and capture

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-46241222177361174712009-12-14T10:15:00.001Z2009-12-14T10:15:16.685Z

I told a friend I was going to Barcelona to watch football, he laughed in my face, then asked me what was really on. Some EuroPride or something. I told him that I was going over to see some football over and over again, but he still didn't listen.**I know nothing about football. It took me years to figure out there was more than one team other than 'The One Beckham Plays For' and 'The One

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-29481860273058555992009-12-04T08:19:00.001Z2009-12-04T08:21:15.736Z

My favourite game at the moment is going on YouTube and finding every vblog of podgy girls threatening to cut themselves if 'New Moon' is no good. Though I doubt very much my idea and their idea of a good film are even in the same hemisphere. I like sly comedy, good set-pieces and camp heroines, they seem to like not being able to hear the stilted dialogue over the sounds of hymens being twanged

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-77533098483811087202009-11-24T08:24:00.001Z2009-11-24T08:25:35.063Z

"Wire hangers... bring out my anger"Possibly one of the greatest rhymes in gay living history.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-13377885807277995212009-11-03T13:55:00.003Z2009-11-03T13:57:06.945Z

Today I had light Philadelphia cream cheese on a couple of Rivita crackers. All that was missing on the side was my alice band and my menial PA position in a faceless media company.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-40030537488418954762009-10-29T09:42:00.001Z2009-10-29T09:45:26.212Z

I see that The Nation's Bawdy Treasure, Barbara Winsor, is leaving 'EastEnders' next year.A thought: isn't that when they're meant to be going HD? Just a thought.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-7814738067848362812009-10-26T09:54:00.006Z2009-10-26T12:01:38.704Z

I hate getting stopped by protesters, mostly because they tend to be well-meaning but smell of wet dog. There were swathes of them outside the BBC last week (where I'm currently holed up colouring in some new Doctor Who stuff) for the appearance of Nick Griffin, current leader of the British National Party, appearing on 'Question Time'. Now I wanted him on there to hopefully to make an utter fool

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-38986883946882277232009-10-23T08:14:00.004Z2009-10-23T09:38:39.945Z

Good lord. Modern artist Richard Whitehurst is apparently building The Tunnel Of Rape as an 'art piece', where he would sit in it and try and overpower anyone who wandered inside and rape them. Well, what fun! And there was me rolling my eyes at Tracy Emin's unmade bed. At least this one is more interactive.Now see, my question was that if you were wandering into something called 'The Tunnel of

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-65166935442046072572009-10-20T08:33:00.002Z2009-10-20T08:40:33.525Z

Being a screaming Gentleman Who Owns One Too Many Gingham Shirts, there is one sliver of thought that runs through any instance of food poisoning. Throughout the endless vomiting, poised on the edge of the toilet like those oscillating dippy-bird toys. Through the explosive instances at the other end of the body that renders leaving the house an impossibility, as well as turning it into a

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-19063242292333000332009-10-07T12:37:00.004Z2009-10-09T09:12:20.909Z

I mean clearly I'm a stranger to feminine hygiene having never been near a splayed bacon sandwich since my dear mother shot me into this world. Male hygiene - well you're lucky if they run it under the tap before you find it insistently bobbing around before your mouth, but I understand that women get it all a little worse - compounded by someone sending me this delightful ad:Well, isn't that

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-45730203225891539412009-10-06T08:05:00.003Z2009-10-06T08:44:29.707Z

And so we reach the finale of the book where the story has stopped three chapters previously, Langdon has managed to find his spiral staircase and the man who had his hand removed only hours before stop halfway down and discuss all sorts of theological issues for what feels like hours. He then buggers off and leaves the rest of his lecturing to his sister, the Speak & Spell with Lipstick, to pick

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-50431596572817509232009-10-05T08:41:00.004Z2009-10-05T09:32:56.139Z

Ooh, the home stretch now. Almost at the end I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear.So where are we? Well, Mal'akh's plan is finally revealed and it seems to be getting himself killed while at the same time sending video footage of the Masons doing their initiation ceremony around the world. Apparently this will 'bring down governments' because it shows people titting about in robes and if you show

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-2003158130204566172009-10-02T08:23:00.005Z2009-10-02T18:36:06.450Z

Right so this thing is really beginning to annoy me now as its shot past 'good-bad' and is heading right towards 'throw across the Tube carriage in disgust'. And I would have done just that if it wasn't a hardback and there was a nice man in tracksuit bottoms and while it would have been a nice way to introduce myself I'd rather he didn't know I was reading this utter rubbish. If you care about

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-90933880967311591202009-10-01T08:32:00.003Z2009-10-01T09:59:06.836Z

So Robert Mary-Sue Langdon and the Speak & Spell with Lipstick have a stone pyramid, a capstone and the box it came in and are puzzling it all out how it could reveal the location of this mysterious spiral staircase that seems to have come out of nowhere. They're prodding it and poking it and trying to discover what secrets it hides and at no point has anyone considered putting the capstone on

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-63691627209746678932009-09-30T09:49:00.002Z2009-09-30T09:58:39.887Z

I caught the first episode. S'all right. But:* If the flashforward happened at the same time all over the globe, surely half the world would have been asleep when it happened?* Why did all the aircraft drop out the sky? Don't they have autopilot for these things?* Why, in the background of Alex Kingston's bit, was Big Ben aflame? I mean seriously, what the hell they storing up there? All the

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-9275603484424030282009-09-30T09:28:00.002Z2009-09-30T09:49:30.953Z

This thing just won't quit.So Langdon (what a boring name) and Katherine have now escaped and are looking for sanctuary in Washington DC thanks to another stock Dan Brown character: the kindly old man who knows more than he should. He'll probably turn out to be evil just like Teabing (what a ridiculous name) in the last one so I'm not holding my breath. They've solved more puzzles, hurrah, and...

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-51804214704947493282009-09-28T08:19:00.003Z2009-09-28T09:05:45.320Z

The great read continues.Well, we've finally moved from one room in the Capitol Building and all the way over the road to another room in the Library where Langdon and Bellamy have got a coded pyramid and... I think that they're trying to decipher it, although Bellamy keeps saying that if he does it'll be the end of everything, which is a touch dramatic as the 'end of everything' sounds very much

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-907220400483869982009-09-25T08:17:00.002Z2009-09-25T08:56:27.252Z

Still ploughing through this tome. So right now, we're still in the Capitol Building, and we're wandering through the basements to Sub-Sub-Basement 13 ('SSBXIII' - geddit?) and along the way Robert Mary-Sue Langdon is telling us all his pet theories about everything from The Masons to the American '13' conspiracy theorists, who would apparently 'have a field day' if they discovered that

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-88621671377142643632009-09-24T08:25:00.004Z2009-09-24T10:06:43.041Z

Sorry there was no update yesterday but seriously nothing is happening in this book. Here's what I can gather:Robert Langdon is still in the Capitol building, and is joined by what I can only describe as a series of grotesque character traits on legs called Ms Sato, who comprises of a skin condition that makes her look like a mottled statue, a cancer scar across her throat, and the personal

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-25984197251994165852009-09-22T09:40:00.002Z2009-09-22T10:06:10.134Z

So. I'm slowly reading Dan Brown's magnum opus, and am about 40 pages in. Here is the story so far as I see it:Robert Mary-Sue Langdon has taken a private jet to Washington DC (during which he happened to be 'halfway through reviewing Masonic Symbology' which made me wonder "what, all of it? How very industrious!") when he has a flashback to his old mentor, Peter Soloman. This then triggers a

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-9713047575065782892009-09-21T08:24:00.003Z2009-09-21T09:04:26.729Z

I'm worrying about my literary ability: I started reading Gore Vidal's 'Julian' at the beginning of last week and by Wednesday I'd given up and was reading Lawrence Miles. By Saturday, I'd slipped further down the scale and started Dan Brown's 'The Lost Symbol'. I don't think there's any hope, frankly. By mid this week I'll be doing colouring books on the Tube to work.It's a pity as I was looking

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-16257016381551116832009-09-21T08:21:00.000Z2009-09-21T08:22:13.464Z

In the mood for a bit of silly Who action, I made Nelson sit through 'Army of Ghosts' and 'Doomsday' last night. Rather delightfully, he gasped when the Void Ship cracked open and some Daleks dropped out."What did you think was in there?" I asked afterwards."Oh, not really sure. I was kinda betting on John Barrowman."I does love him.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-43482166277409290062009-09-11T09:40:00.000Z2009-09-11T09:41:04.293Z

I just realised I haven't really spoken about Twilight, have I? Well, in short: I. Don't. Get. Twilight.Or more correctly, I don't get abstinence. I think that's what my main objection is. That and the mimsy doomed romance between two vapid people that go to every extreme length to show Sex! Is! Bad! That if you do, the man will turn rabid and destroy you (Stephanie Mayer changing her name to

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-53243552005304125052009-08-30T06:29:00.007Z2009-09-03T08:34:18.295Z

The war of the sexes just took a petty turn: in the fine city of Boston they have started a campaign against 'man sitting'. You know, when a fine youth usually in tracksuit bottoms take up a little extra space in order to display their produce by the means of a little wider leg-room. Personally I think its a lovely sight on the way to work, and one of the few perks that get me through the morning

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-89100603988336803522009-08-12T14:13:00.002Z2009-08-12T14:17:34.195Z

Oh well, that explains it.You see, I was walking down Bond Street when two suited gentleman pulled up in a BMW and offered to give me a double-hoop for a low price. I said I hadn't done that sort of thing in years, but there was probably enough room on the back seat if I got my legs through the sunroof.They drove off. Shame.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-66090552940770901332009-08-11T18:43:00.003Z2009-08-11T19:00:27.373Z

As I'm often three years behind with the current cultural zeigeist (apparently the cake is a lie) as so I've only just I've only just got involved in Spotify, the music streaming site. What impresses me is the volume of songs on there all for free (FREE!) and the only catch is that you get the odd advert irregularly inserted into your selection of Cher remixes. All well and good.Well, you'd

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-90450993342541251752009-08-10T11:54:00.003Z2009-08-10T12:05:52.528Z

So, the hilarious Michael Jackson stories continue to come out. And this weekend, we had the tale of an former child star Mark Lester claiming that he may be the father of one of Jackson's children.All well and good. But apparently he's not sure - which implies that he was perfectly happy handing over his love-syrup to Jackson without knowing what was going to happen to it! Are stars really that

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-52064099228877756532009-07-30T10:35:00.004Z2009-07-30T11:38:29.421Z

Popped to see low budget wonder film 'Moon' yesterday. Oh it's alright, and Sam Rockwell is pleasant enough to look at from some angles, but curiously not all. You can see all the reviews saying that it was a 'brave' role. To me, this means that if this were Meryl Streep she wouldn't wear any make-up and sport that special shapeless grey cardigan given to all actresses involved in dramas where a

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-24122959663915967702009-07-27T11:50:00.004Z2009-08-02T10:23:39.137Z

I love a good disaster movie... And for once I'm not talking about anything with Katherine Heigl in. Yeesh, I tell you, I was snacking on my popcorn, waiting for Ryan Reynolds/Sandra Bullock magnum opus 'The Proposal' to start when I was forced to sit through the trailer for 'The Ugly Truth' - her latest hour-and-a-half of her tossing her thinning hair at some man, while she gives them the side

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-5465505922686830902009-07-24T11:13:00.002Z2009-07-24T11:40:34.223Z

It's probably typical Virgoan hypochondria, but I reckon I've had this swine flu for a fortnight now. But at a really low level, so there's no point bothering anyone with it - much less demanding the apparently rare drugs. And besides, 'Tammy Flu' is going to be my new drag name.Well, see. I've been getting all they symptoms one after the other; serial rather than parallel. This last few days has

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-60300255546342667922009-07-09T14:59:00.002Z2009-07-09T15:08:19.540Z

This has been one of the hardest G4B At The Movies I've ever had to write because in order to take the piss out of something, you must pretty much understand why the event happens. This film makes absolutely no sense: things happen because the cack-handed people behind the camera just jump from one idea to the next because they think it'll be cool. It's racist, sexist, loud and annoying. And

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-6488384468763216082009-07-07T16:00:00.002Z2009-07-07T16:13:56.627Z

The Boy and I are getting a kitten, just like proper settled gays. Next it'll be stretch pants and toupees, and trying to get local youths to fix some aspect of the house in shorts. She's one of the mad scramble that are on this web-cam: Problem is, she can't be taken away from her mother til she's 12 weeks old, so it's like she's been ordered from Amazon and in postal limbo. 'Your kitteh

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-40291499443806379422009-07-07T15:57:00.002Z2009-07-07T16:00:25.060Z

I've been trying to write a Glitter For Brains At The Movies for Transformers 2 for two weeks now, but it was such an unmitigated pile of crap that every time I try and apply my brain to sift through the plot to make some reason behind it, my brain shuts down.It's not a pleasant sensation. Though at least I get to see through the eyes of Myleen Klass for a while.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-61838006537793806152009-07-02T16:18:00.001Z2009-07-02T16:18:47.304Z

Well done, India! You've finally made man-love legal! Aww step up, step up and take your place in the 20th Century - we'll wave at you from just inside the 21st with a knowing wink and an urge to spoil you the end of 'Friends' for you (hint: they're no longer on a break..!) I think you're terrific!Actually, I do think you're terrific. Because I understand that sex is taboo in India, so to have a

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-6542586317732654782009-07-01T10:10:00.001Z2009-07-01T10:10:57.193Z

I pop to a psychic now and again - she's nothing too dramatic, just a pitch-black poncho and a lot of bangles - and she told me that I'd be in danger of having an affair through work and work alone. Which is great for me, as I usually work from home, and thankfully the only other man that I see during the day is the postman. Who is, ironically, nothing to write home about. Hurrah, I'm safe! Well,

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-63497767678026317492009-06-26T08:59:00.001Z2009-06-26T09:00:52.699Z

Q. What's white, plastic, inanimate and dangerous to children?A. A shopping bag, of course.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-88301224475993852472009-06-08T11:58:00.002Z2009-06-08T11:59:55.196Z

WARNING! SPOILERS!So I went to see 'Terminator: Salvation' with little or no expectations other than it was going to be dark, dingy and terrible (I think I was braced for something like the IKEA marketplace at 11am on a Saturday). Popcorn in hand, the titles roll, and I'm hunkered in for what I think is the long haul. Two hours of people shouting at each other and horrible, desperate acts of

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-15672142531568404192009-06-05T11:38:00.000Z2009-06-05T11:39:52.150Z

I don't often get to talk about my work - it chugs away nicely in the background, much like Lindsay Lohan on her bottles of 'water' when the press are watching. But this week was the culmination in a year-and-a-half's work (designing this bad boy) and getting ready for send-off. Ah, you'd think that the final week would be a delicate shade of easy, spent sipping cheap wine as you transfer all the

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-55934484825947574482009-05-27T16:10:00.001Z2009-05-27T16:10:32.659Z

Of course there were other things to do. The 'seedier' things. You know, dope and sex - oh, I got a giddy thrill just typing it! How can you not like a city that, even in a five-star hotel, gives you wipe-clean PVC bolster pillows? Fabulous.From what I was saying in the previous post about there being nothing to do is a little ungracious - there's loads to do if you want to get stoned and chuck

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-45581795050761970632009-05-26T11:42:00.000Z2009-05-26T11:43:15.684Z

Ah, Amsterdam. A city as free and easy as Paris Hilton's mimsy without its constraining underwear, and just as easy to be taken in. It's a strange old place - it's like London if they built Soho and Covent Garden and then forgot about the rest. As a result, you get a genuninely laid-back city. I mean I've been around around the world (primary to put it around a bit, but you know that) and each

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-42436128477831922222009-05-11T14:06:00.001Z2009-05-11T14:08:50.029Z

We go so you don't have to! So. I can see from my Twitter feed that I'm probably one of the few who doesn't like this shiny new reboot, Chris Pine in his space-briefs and everything. I did try, honestly. So I'll get my feelings as to why in the only way we know how. You know, by taking the piss. So, without further ado, Glitter for Brains proudly presents... STAR TREK: THE ABRIDGED SCRIPT

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-56620978381065140752009-05-01T10:43:00.002Z2009-05-01T10:47:37.687Z

If you're going to make such a point of the new Poet Laureate being a woman, perhaps employing one that looks like Ian McShane is a bit of a non-starter.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-4279975995726956532009-05-01T09:56:00.001Z2009-05-01T09:56:39.018Z

Well. Isn't it embarrassing that your long-forgotten gaydar account sends you an email just at the moment your boyfriend is leaning over to poke a finger at your in-box which, by the way, is not as filthy as it sounds? All of a sudden I was like Hugh Grant with Parkinson's - stuttering and fumbling all over the shop. I was mortified! I haven't been so embarrassed since I was having sex with this

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-82888060996767581272009-04-24T09:41:00.003Z2009-04-24T10:18:33.860Z

So the strangest day so far. There was a guy who turned up at the gym who happened to be the spitting image of Derek Reese, of whom I do fancy. Actually perhaps fancy is a bit lenient a word; I kinda phase out whenever he's on screen. I mean seriously, there's whole swathes of 'Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles' that are a mystery to me as Reese is on, only snapping back into focus whenever

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-2131609154224863252009-04-22T07:38:00.001Z2009-04-22T07:38:31.470Z

...no matter how hard I train at the gym, I still run like C-3PO being chased by Jawas.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-33376827078957278042009-04-21T09:22:00.001Z2009-04-21T09:23:23.922Z

Guys With iPhones NSFWI think you know my thoughts on Apple by now. I can't abide their smug 'ta-daaaa!' whenever they start up, and the design that makes them look like giant Quality Street. But now there's a site that fetishises them as much as the male form, so clearly I'll have a look. But I don't know what's got into me (well, I do know - a handsome 23-year-old intent on celebrating our

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-38958347042825212902009-04-21T08:42:00.001Z2009-04-21T08:43:34.804Z

Oh honey. You really must pay attention. Yes you, darling Miss California, when you were asked about gay marriage at a beauty pageant! Come on, even you should have to realise who is watching! There'd be no heterosexual man paying any attention past the swimsuit round, leaving you with a room full of queens who are only there to see the hair, the make-up and whether you're going to fall on your

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-39209670982510412102009-04-17T08:45:00.001Z2009-04-17T08:45:17.277Z

Katie Price. I think I like her, but I'm not sure why. And then this comes along about her leaving LA and not missing the sun.Note the startling use of plurals in the last line. 'Sunbeds'. She has sunbeds.Is this in case someone pulls the door to on one of the tanning rooms? Because I imagine that dear Katie seems the kind of girl who would not only forget how to use doorknobs, but upon seeing it

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-15262262805795918522009-04-15T13:04:00.000Z2009-04-15T13:05:09.068Z

We always call Prowler in Soho 'The Gay Supermarket' as you can pretty much get all you need from there: lube, porn, porn disguised as art, poppers, impossibly-tight underwear and expensive t-shirts that say 'I Have No Gag Reflex'. It's all so convenient! A handy one-stop-shop for everything you'll need for a night out then a night in, if you get my meaning.Well! There's a new outlet opened

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-49288618708513203562009-04-09T13:09:00.000Z2009-04-09T13:10:05.206Z

Just finished 'Boston Legal' Season 4. Ah, what a fine show! A show that makes you think - and not just about whether Adam Baldwin goes commando as I do throughout 'Firefly's apparently well-crafted storytelling. The one thing I have to say against 'Boston Legal' is its obsession for focusing in on hands when people are talking in a way that is almost fetishistic. Fine; forgivable even. But what

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-39189624522135627722009-04-07T21:31:00.001Z2009-04-07T21:32:25.883Z

You're lucky visitor #69 this very day!Now take a guess to what you've won.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-40818764983980576932009-04-03T15:24:00.000Z2009-04-03T15:25:10.581Z

Well, apparently the UK is gripped in 'Michelle Obama Fever' at the moment. Honeys, no. No we're not. I've seen drag queens with more realistic hair.And speaking of which, did you see what was going on with Queen Latifa?! She's being sued for apparently not paying her stylist! The horror! Well, I have a lot of time for Queen L. And lets not give any credence to the rumours going around that she's

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-31611327136860932432009-03-26T12:33:00.000Z2009-03-26T12:34:14.881Z

Now, I was going to talk about an awful play I was dragged to go see, but something on the BBC news site caught my eye this morning instead. Here it claims that therapists are offering 'treatment' for being a filthy bum stabber or, for the ladies, an urge to eat sushi off the barber's floor.Now, look. You don't want me to get up on my high horse, do you? For one, my joints aren't up to it in this

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-30138803811827633222009-03-20T07:14:00.000Z2009-03-20T07:15:47.296Z

Call me cynical, but don't you think Jade Goody's people are kicking themselves that Natasha Richardson careered into a tree this week?I so wasn't going to talk about Miss Goody, I really wasn't. I was consoling myself that she was Doing Some Good with the stats that more young women are going for cancer tests, but with this new death in the limelight, I'm so over all this Mourn Porn that has

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-54202885236625771182009-03-12T07:28:00.001Z2009-03-12T07:28:56.678Z

I love a good conference, I do. Not for the corporate element which I can guarentee you from this point (I'm typing this on the way down on the train - how gloriously modern!) will be draining and tedious, but for the wondrous thrill of seeing people out of the office Letting Their Hair Down. All those lovely office women I work with breaking out the high heels and the spangly tops, and all the

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-62606615518131385332009-03-05T17:02:00.002Z2009-03-05T17:04:24.076Z

Oh, Twitter.You know, ages ago one of you darling readers actually emailed me to ask me to go on there, which was very sweet I thought. 'Why would I want to bore the intertubes with tiny missives about putting the kettle on?' I did wonder. Well, I've never been that quick at the uptake when it comes to technology, frankly: this laptop runs Windows 95 and the... lets just call it a 'personal

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-12907184903010055282009-03-04T08:10:00.000Z2009-03-04T08:11:08.557Z

I have tried desperately to like 'Dollhouse', but its like it just doesn't want to be liked. I haven't seen anything so self-destructive and unlikeable since one of my last flings used to get drunk and try a little Ike/Tina on me (or Chris/Reanna if you want to be thrillingly modern). Put it this way, he didn't make the second audition, and 'Dollhouse' is almost, almost consigned to that bin.I

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-14577374224936649922009-03-03T11:00:00.000Z2009-03-03T11:01:11.784Z

I wonder if Luke Skywalker would have been such a whiny cunt if Uncle Owen had beat him a bit harder..?

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-25533001513325405462009-02-13T10:11:00.000Z2009-02-13T10:12:14.401Z

Well now! Sploshing, darling reader, is when you use 'copious amounts of substances are applied to clothes or skin for sexual gratification'. I know this for two reasons. The first is because a delicious writer friend of mine was employed to do a script for a saucy TV show where sploshing featured heavily, and was duly dispatched off to a local prostitute to get some research notes, where I would

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-88363979200529022532009-02-03T09:22:00.001Z2009-02-03T09:22:40.604Z

Well, this snow's quite nice, but not what I was expecting, alas. When Ryan said I was going to get seven inches in the morning, I just made sure I was awake nice and early and brushed my teeth.I'm at home. After the travel madness of yesterday I'm staying chez Glitter today, propped up on a warm bearskin and several Vicodin. I'll get the BBC to send a bike with my work for the day, and hope the

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-68451549937042952062009-02-02T16:28:00.002Z2009-02-02T16:31:38.078Z

London in the snow is pretty much like a fat girl in a new party dress. There's a novel prettiness about it for a full half-hour, but you just know by the end of the night it's going to be miserable, wet, and look like shit.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-62598735415428708772009-01-28T11:44:00.000Z2009-01-28T11:46:05.987Z

While lying in bed last night, dear Ryan informed me that the collective noun for zebras was 'a dazzle'. I like it when he tells me things. Like I'm not to worry, the don't actually take the celebs off and shoot them like lame horses when they lose on 'Strictly Come Dancing' and that I must have been taking my zinc tablets because three times a week is good for a man my age. Oh my, he's the smart

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-49468957943727986072009-01-22T11:09:00.001Z2009-01-22T11:09:44.567Z

Looks at teleprompterWhat's this last category? 'Most Disappointing Sex of 2008'? That's a bit cheeky, isn't it? Oh well, if it gets you all out of here so we can get the char in to hoover up the Twiglets, so be it.Funny old year, 2008. There was a lot of the old slap-and-tickle thanks to being out of a relationship (although cough that didn't stop me at the time. Oh those wacky gays! We'll stick

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-81419971454203223852009-01-19T14:10:00.000Z2009-01-19T14:11:23.069Z

And the winner for Most Disappointing Celebrity is...Tears envelope...Jennifer Aniston!Ooh, now I remember there was some consternation about this result when we did the judging, because is it disappointing if she has acted completely within her programming for the past ten years? I mean she's still banging on about being Brad Pitt's cock-wash back when she was relevant to swathes of

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-80118135971896089192009-01-13T11:12:00.000Z2009-01-13T11:13:22.965Z

rattles envelopeWell, I can hear the desperation clattering about in this here envelope, so clearly it's time for the Most Disappointing Record of 2008! Which pop icons caused us to roll our eyes every time they come around on The Box? Was it Madonna, who had clawed it all back with her last album, only to piss it all up the wall with her ill-thought-out rap releases (and if anyone is under any

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-14970390147666643392009-01-09T11:39:00.000Z2009-01-09T11:40:23.353Z

Straightens bow tie, taps microphone.Ooh, 'ello! And welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 2007 Awards for the Disappointing! Here, we're going to celebrate all that caused a sigh, a tut or was just plain 'meh' over the last year! There will be no trophies, but if you want to make one yourself, Google a picture of Paris Hilton (make sure your Safe Search is on, boys and girls - you don't want to

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-45678955631872286692008-12-19T16:18:00.000Z2008-12-19T16:19:07.391Z

Cat clearly knows she's being collected by her real owner - she won't stop yowling, and there's a look in her eyes. A look that says 'I know something's up. I know that man who doesn't own an iron and smells of Ralgex is coming'. You see, I think she's been treating this past week like a spa retreat, whereas I've been spending it stopping any bad habits she may have. I've even politely dissuaded

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-44808144080351715652008-12-19T09:27:00.002Z2008-12-19T09:29:03.172Z

Thanks to all of you who emailed in the story about Nicola from Girls Aloud - The Plastic Pal Who's Fun To Be With (Maybe When They Fix The Smile) - reportedly being turned away from a table because Louise Rednapp said she wouldn't share.The Daily Mail writes:'"Nicola was in a bit of a state, and got to the club quite late," an onlooker told the newspaper. "She assumed she would be whisked

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-68332663310652157932008-12-18T12:20:00.002Z2008-12-18T12:20:56.997Z

Oh we've had fun today. The cleaner came and buffed all our wood floors.I mean, they were a bit slippy before, but now there's absolutely no purchase for Cat. She's been sliding around, banging into furniture like a rohypnoled Jane Torville. I dropped my copy of 'Manhole Monthly' (I buy it for the sudoku) and the poor thing was so scared that she tried to dart under the coffee table and just

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-72994655447201180172008-12-17T11:56:00.001Z2008-12-17T11:56:58.566Z

I'd hate to see my google history over the last couple of days. I mean, beyond the usual stuff (will somebody please post some pictures of Ben Browder doing Ryan Reynolds? Don't tell me there's no consumer interest, people) there's this whole swathe of cat related enquiries that are going to sit very oddly next to my usual search criteria. If I ever put 'yiffing' in along with the other two sets,

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-43513495325356249292008-12-16T14:17:00.001Z2008-12-16T14:22:31.069Z

Today, Cat and I have been exploring. She seems to have taken me to be Alpha Male of the three people in the house, much to everyone's hilarity. Well, really! I've never been an Alpha Male before! I was almost classed as an A-Gay on one occasion, but I seemingly didn't slap the officer who was frisking me for my Balans Members Card hard enough (flat of the palm, thinking you're Ivana, apparently)

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-8257784048089237092008-12-15T14:54:00.001Z2008-12-15T14:54:15.905Z

I'm looking after this cat for a week, while dear old Gertie is on holiday. Do check out his blog if you get a second and like cats - you can't move for updates of grainy cameraphone shots of the dismissive beast and on how it (shock!) opens cat flaps now. I'm taking it for a week while he's up in Scotland with his folks, pretending he doesn't smoke and, even funnier, isn't gay. I know, isn't

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-79314095012186992292008-12-15T14:26:00.000Z2008-12-15T14:27:02.283Z

I'm glad Eggnog Samwise Gamgee didn't win The X Factor. I mean, it's really sweet of them to put a Downs kid in the contest and all for sympathy, but really. It was bad enough when we all went 'Aww, look at the fat chick!' when Michelle McManus was up for a vote a few years back and voted out of National Pride to show that We Like People To Be Given A Fair Chance, and then completely ignore them

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-70753013327507392022008-12-12T12:58:00.000Z2008-12-12T13:00:17.376Z

1) Ever since Ryan moved in, I've gained twice the wardrobe, double the sex and two pounds in weight. I am quite adamant that this is His Fault, and how he denies it is a mystery. Everything he makes in the kitchen seems to have the first instruction 'crush up a packet of biscuits, and add a pound of butter'. His latest concoction, Malteaser Squares, are a good Irish recipe from the homeland,

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-69370853363773061602008-12-05T10:49:00.002Z2008-12-05T10:51:42.279Z

The best thing about living in an 'up-and-coming' area is not the increase in property prices, the sudden appearance of dolly little boutiques or coffee shops, but the sheer number of builders you have to walk past on a daily basis. I just trolled past a delectable duo of them hanging off some scaffolding and, bless, they were trying to do maths. It was like chimps trying to figure out the Dewey

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-26672787988952822472008-11-28T12:47:00.001Z2008-11-28T12:47:59.188Z

I'm all for decadence, you know. I'll always go for the M&Ms with the peanuts for instance. No, you can't buy class like wot I have.So in a rare day off this week, I decided to treat myself to a massage. Now, before I go on, I'd like to say this was at a reputable place, rather than a central London doorway with 'Model Upstairs' in letters made of insulation tape above the chipped lintel. As a

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-30632226859117670302008-11-21T13:16:00.000Z2008-11-21T13:17:08.605Z

Ah the turn of the season. Isn't this glorious - the leaves, the colours? The chance of bringing out your long coats and pretending you're in a TV show title sequence when a Tube train whizzes by, fooming your hair and coat out dramatically. Me, I make sure I'm listening to the 'Alias' title music as it happens, though I know in my heart I'm secretly more 'Laverne and Shirley'. I'm always loosing

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-22916159862188750022008-11-14T12:30:00.000Z2008-11-14T12:31:48.810Z

Now. I usually don't care what most people think of me - clearly with the notable exception of you, darling reader. As a child of the internet age, I've been stationed everywhere - Flickr, Twitter, Blogger, the lot. I've poked around Facebook, and stuffed myself up YouTube. I even had a MySpace page for an afternoon until I realised I was a 33 year old man and not a twelve year old girl into

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-59473832142094917942008-10-31T11:33:00.003Z2008-10-31T11:34:55.876Z

So I have a long standing belief that Nicola from Girls Aloud is a robot. An evil cyborg from the future who will insist that every band has a member with dead, shark-like eyes, and the grace of a giraffe on roller skates during any dance routine in a video. You know that bit in 'Blade Runner', where Rachel introduces Deckard to the fake owl? I imagine that is what happens whenever Nicola is

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5613682.post-91343410832950360882008-10-20T15:16:00.003Z2008-10-20T15:18:26.065Z

I'm loving playing Lego Batman on my Wii. Although the best bit of it is getting little Lego Batman to the top of the Lego cathedral and pretending we're playing little Lego 'Fathers 4 Justice'.

Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02075614887114718640noreply@blogger.com6