Thursday, December 22, 2005

Just say no kids!

Almost a year ago, as I was hurtling around various bits of North Africa, braving freezing night temperatures (whose idea was a trip to the Sahara in winter? Whose? WHOSE? Oh wait. Probably mine. Damn.) and a dangerous scarcity of alcholic beverages, I very nearly succumbed to a serious and potentially expensive addictive habit.

Okay, it has a funny side - but seriously it took me two and a half weeks of bleeding, sore lips before I could kick the addiction!

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Hello Lomo

I have been presented with the technology!

I have been given a Lomo LC-A Russian camera. This is a whole new thing for me and I am very excited. I have been learning all about it at the Lomographic Society International.

It looks so cool! I love Soviet technology. I used to have a really cool old Russian watch I loved. My dad had a few too, before me. One of which is buried somewhere in the Arizona desert. It has this great old-school little indicator in the viewfinder that shows you what distance setting its set to by flicking between some properly retro diddy little icons.


At the very least, it means the family Christmas will be presented in tunnel-effect, colour drenched and luminous pictures. And this year it won't just be how much we drank when we took them.

Expect to see evidence here as soon as I can get it up!

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Bulk quantites of sellotape required*

Slap my thigh and call me a tiger! I do believe I am getting there with the festive comsumer spending spree! Though two choice items I ordered from the states have not turned up yet. Curses. This means they probably won't now as they won't fit through the letter box and will have to be collected from the nearest post office sorting place A MILLION MILES away between the convenient times of 12.00pm and 12.01pm some other Saturday that isn't vaguely near a public holiday.


I think I may have gone a bit over the top. Fuckit. Everyone's had a rough year and it's Christmas. Breakout the cooking sherry, I say.

I now need to 'source' some kick-arse wrapping paper. Which reminds me - when I was a kid, I used to love Tony Robinson's Christmas Rapping record. It was so naff it was brilliant.

Right. Pub to go to. T'ra.

*or as Granny Boz would say, "seal-o-tape". She thinks it's the way the Queen would say it. As if Her Madge wraps her own. I think not...

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Purty colours.

Look at der purty colours.


Bit of a stress on still about Christmas, but am beginning to feel like it's under control. I'm not going to bore you with the mares around the (un)usual family affair this year. Let's just say ARRRGGGHHHHH and be done with it.

Shall we? Lets.

Crashing on.

(proper entry soon I promise, as soon as I get my brain into gear).

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Have another mince pie, Boz

I just found this. So I thought I would bung it up.

That is all.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Boz's Current Best Things

These are some of the things Boz likes best at the moment.

December 2005.

1. Chloe O'Brian

Boz has only just had this whole 24 thing properly brought to his attention by Mark. It's Brilliant. Have started at season 4, and Chloe - aka Gruntface - (played by Mary Lynn Rajskub) is the best thing about it. The sheer geekery of it all is genius. With dialogue like "no it's your job to check the hourlies" flying around, it's easy to forget the US is supposed to be on the brink of nuclear meltdown.

When she's asked to do a 'field mission' it typically all goes tits up and the goddess of the laptops ends up barricading herself and a witness (plus laptop) into a laundry room.

"Don't you have a gun?"
"I work with computers!"

But gruntface saves the day, first by locking herslef into a car, then by unloaded several rounds into a poor terrorist...


And Chloe is the one who breaks the drama of Air Force One crashing. Ooooo.

2. Christmas campery


It'll end in tears though. You mark my words.

3. The Great Blog Story capably managed by that Vitriolica lady. Magic.

4. Video gaming as release

Heh heh heh heh!

Perfect for unleasing work fuelled agression. Boom! Crash! Tinkle! Wicked!

5. My New Diary

Because very soon this strange-strange year will be O.V.A.H. and a whole raft of possibility extends before us like a big empty field of potential. Oooo again, we say.

Less Adrian Mole, probably more Teenage Health Freak.

6. Molesworth

Rediscovering a comfortable joy. As any fule no.

Although cripes, when did Boz start sounding a like a Telegraph critic? Eek! I realise this is whole thing is rather influenced by The Measure.


7. My annoying new ringtone

Because it's good to know you're ready and you're wide awake! So on your marks and GET SET GO!!

Really. This faux childhood must end. I'm 26. I mean, really... although...

8. Routemasters

But, I accept that nostalgia is no way to run a bus service, and if you already get around on smaller wheels rather than feet, then they're not too useful. But dammit if it's good enough for Sir Cliff...

9. More of...

...anything you like, with the left of centre search engine thingy. Mark - Boz salutes you!!

But, best of all this Friday evening.....

10. Unexpected phone calls from friends far, far away.


Monday, December 05, 2005






Does this strike anyone else as wrong?

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Happy snaps


The World66 website has a photo gallery section - it's like you don't even have to take pictures when you visit somewhere new. Other people will do it for you! On the down side, you can see how good yours could have been. Natch.

But it's a great way to virtually visit places again. Kewl.

Advertisement over.

Get with the programme

The 90's music automatic playlist on iTunes is starting to bother me slightly. It covers a lot of my music. C'mon Boz, get with the decade.

I'm lying in bed with a semi-hangover so have the time to ponder these things.

Oh for god sake. Get the Alan and Usha show together already. There's only weeks until Christmas now people. Get with the festivities.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Freakishly childish and loving it thanks

Several thoughts have consolidated at once and made me realise that under the surface I really am still about six years old.

Namely, I can't help changing pop song lyrics in my head into school boy humour.

For example...

Kylie - In Your Eyes
is transformed in Boz-land to...

"It's in your flies,
I can tell what you're thinking,
my part is thinking it to.

Between your thighs,
I can tell where it's sticking,
Covered like it is in Pooh."

Animotion / Sugababes - Obsession
becomes the seedier...

"You are an obsession,
You are my obsession!
Who do you want me to be?
To make you pee on me?"

Mark caught me singing that one in the kitchen yesterday. Ad infinitum. There are many more. Oh god there are more. Mostly involving switching the word 'you' (which crops up a LOT in pop songs) to 'pooh'. Hmmmm.

I think party of this stems from Uni. I had some friends who stopped drinking, smoking and debaunching long enough to troop off to Christian Summer Camp every year to entertain younger kids. Inevitably this involved coming up with song and dance routines to pop music, but changing the lyrics to a Christian theme. It became a hobby.

One day, if you're lucky, I might treat you to a rousing verse of Hit Me Jesus, One More Time or Tragedy like you've never heard it before ("Died for me! Washed away my sins and saved me soul he died for me!").


Anybody got any others??

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

The JCB song

Above is a picture of sliced bread.

Since the very first occasion knife was put to bread before it hit retailers, one of the best things that has ever happened is the JCB song by Nizlopi.

And its utterly amazing video by Monkeehub

I have had a piss-poor day, and this has defintely cheered me up. It's frankly brilliant. The backstory behind it is also v touching. Big cheers to Matty for throwing this Boz's way.

Fantastic weekend of debaunchery, including a proper grown-up "dinner party" hosted by Boz for seven. With coffee at the end and everything. We didn't all just pass out. Cooked sister’s Go-Go Goulash receipe which worked a treat. Bit nervous as I hadn’t tried it before. And to be honest I was still drunk when I woke up on Sunday morning, following a very drunken evening in Clapham. Had to have a walk in the park to clear my head. Suprised to find ice on the ponds.

And my wonderful, fantastic flatmates did alllll of the washing up.

And no one mention the cucumber incident ever again…

Saturday, November 19, 2005


I just found my phone (I slept on my iPod. Whoops.) and on it this picture from last night:

Why was our hero taking pictures in toilet cubicles? Look closer at the creepy face, loves.

Boz is scared and it is Boz...

Stream of unconciousness

Oh god I was really drunk last night, and christ we were in a fookin' chain bar in Soho and it was right after work and I wa still in my work clothes but dear god alive the end of day beer felt so good and they kept bringing more and more apart from when it was Fuge's round and she had to go to the bar but she brought back chicken on sticks and chips yey and I was home by about 11.15 I think but I was (whisper it) really drunk... now go and play in your room, children, Daddy has a headache this morning....

Monday, November 14, 2005

The portents of modern times...

"If Liberty X chart above Girls Aloud we should all just pack up and go home"

Can I just say, can I? Just say?* Amazon Marketplace. X-Men 2** 2-disc 'special' edition. £3.63, including postage. Bargainous.

But this cannot be of interest to you. What happend to the bigger picture? The higher moral questions? The ethical dilemmas? The cultural debates?





Hey, look, something shiny... over there... go on now...

*It's my blog and I will if I want to.
**Yes, I cam that kind of person. And so is he. Not that he's updated that blog anymore. Harumph.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Seasonal clichés

Here's.... Autumn! I was kicking through some leaves on the South Bank today - the smell was like being a kid again. Then I came over all touristy with my camera phone:

Boz did a quasi-brave thing today: he asked someone out. Ooooooo. Have no idea if it'll come to anything, but nothing ventured nothing gained. Carpe diem etc. etc. etc. blah blah blah. Either way, I felt mighty good after the event and strutted through central London with my iPod on shuffle kicking up some random stunners, including Bobby Hutton - Lend A Hand, which fitted the mood as I tripped through St James' Park in the waning sunshine perfectly. Was almost deliriously happy by the time I reached Madge's gaff (not that Madge. The other Madge.), to witness this slice of pomposity:

Guess they're getting ready for remembereance sunday tomorrow. First one for me without my paternal Grandad alive, which is going to be a bit odd.

Remember Remember.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Yes, it's wrong to mock the past, but it's also fun

I have Mark to thank for these choice classic album covers.

Trends and fashion change, we know this, but somethimes things just get way out of hand. I'm glad the group above are not my famnily (that I'm aware of...).

Though this guy sounds fun:

This guy should seriously be asking WHY. And would they feel about me crapping on their grave?

This is just WRONG, WRONG, WRONG:

Five hours to the weekend and counting.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Infant genius

"I require a window seat and an inflight Happy Meal, and no pickles! God help you if I find pickles!"

More Stewie and other inspired Family Guy quotes here.

Okay so Boz drank a lot at the weekend, but still managed to participate enough in Sunday's pub quiz to help us stride quite comfortably to fourth place (pride. fall. before. comes. Arrange as you please).

Parental dog threw biggest canine hissy fit with fireworks going off everywhere. Luckily mum and dad are getting rid of that door anyway. And that skirting board. Hey ho. Other than this rural Wiltshire continues fun and full of lesbians. What is about the further West you head?! Hahahaha!

Pontification ahoy.

Work is going to be a mare this week (I moan too much, I know) and I'm just too tired to type anymore today.


Sunday, November 06, 2005


...ow, my liver...

Friday, November 04, 2005

Oooooh that itches

I have just noticed that Internet Explorer uses the American spelling for the 'Favorites' menu heading.

Obviously this isn't wrong per se; it's created in a different country. But now it's irking me. How sad am I? Really I should lose some of this Supposed British uptightness.

Thankfully it's just my work PC.

Curse you, Gates!

* * *

About to hurtle myself west, into rural England for the weekend. Pray for my soul.

No, scrub that, pray for my liver. Sacrifice a turnip or something. Come on people. Work with me here.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Watch me bitch (note the lack of comma between 'me' and 'bitch')

A double hit of hilarifyingness today from Mark:


and (particularly apt)

Watch Me Change.


Orange have created one of the best telly ads of the year. It's so peaceful and understated (insert other marketing wank here). To view it go here and click on the 'view the TV advert' link at the bottom.

This link probably won't be around forever.


Comes as a bit of a relief after the mad-as-a-fish replacement teacher we had in our evening class last night:

Six parts the American wife of Edina's ex-husband in AbFab, three parts "there are times when I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion" woman in Donnie Darko, and one large part of the 1960s.

Rock on lady.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Oh really?

"David Blunkett chose to resign because he had reached the conclusion that the position was untenable and that he would be unable to continue in his position."

Prime Minister's official spokesman

Really? And I'm Fanny Craddock.

See me cook.

Okay I don't know what I'm wittering about anymore...

Forever More

"And if I drown in this sea of devotion
Just a stone left unturned
My need is deep
Wide endless oceans
Feel it furious
The fire burns on"

Brydon/Murphy 2005

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Dead again

Just caught the last Six Feet Under on E4. I'm such a geek I'm listening to the track Claire drives to New York to.

I'm going miss the Fishers - but I'm glad it ended the way it did. So much of the last episode could have been really cheesy, but it was v cool.


Sunday, October 30, 2005

Boz is in love...

...with his new winter coat.

Boz has never had a coat like this before.

Boz likes it very much.

Boz tramped down Oxford Street in search of coat.

Boz found it in the last shop he went to, Muji.

Boz should have gone there first.

Boz doesn't mind though.

Boz also bought a shirt he doesn't really need from Zara just so Boz could flirt outrageously with the sales assistant.

Boz is feeling like a fly-boy today.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

That cannot feel comfortable

Not sure what's more disturbing about this. The price. The associations. The fact that they're flogging next to the babyfood...

Kudos to S and P who let me tag along while they did the end of their weekly shop in Sainsburys, before we all headed for coffee. They were to be found looking guilty by the bread-slicing machine, as if they were 12 and in an arcade. Also meant when we got to the till and the bread didn't have the right barcode on it, the cashiers had to rummage aorund for one.

P: "It was 51p but to be honest I'll pay 75 if that's all you've got."

I don't know why but I laughed like a special one.

An extra night in bed this evening; the clocks go back. Hee hee heeeeee!

I've changed my sheets and everything.

Sleep is good.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Boz needs

Okay, I have shamelessly stolen this game from this blog belonging to Sam, but it's funny.

Crank up Google. Bung "X needs" in the search box, X being you're name and not forgetting those quotation marks.

Boz needs... make a living too.
...YOUR HELP! worry about her child and her crazy ass exhusband. (er??)
...all of the protectiion he can get! go. tackle?
...40mA per channel right? be streamlined in order to simplify management of government finances.


Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Monday, October 24, 2005

Look! From war atrocities to TV shopping in a single bound!

What's a going-on? No posts for ages then so many in a short space of time!?

Okay. But this time I have the picture file here and not at work, so it makes to do this this evening.

THIS is the latest advert for Unicef in Belgium (not much point in posting a link to the Belgium Unicef site. I mean, it's not like this site gets a lot of traffic. I can be pretty certain not a single person from Belgium has been to these pages.). It's to help make children aware of the horrors and reality of war.

I think it's really good. Bravo Unicef.

In unrelated news...


Why is there always just one attractive student in every episode of University Challenge?
Why is everyone with heavy make-up in Eastenders always evil?

Ah. It seems QVC can help with the last one:

Bless 'em.

Project Ping The Pong

This cruddily-photoshopped "gem" has been on my laptop almost since I got it. It's v naff but I thought "wha'the'heck", I'll post the thing. Voila. Enjoy.

Bags and bags and bags and oh wait a moment

I am now about to share a very small, very middle-class rant.


To the neighbour who always manages to put their recycling bags out about an hour, nay perchance a moment, after they have been collected; WHY? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PEOPLE WHY??

To explain, our street has a single morning of the week when we can put out bags of recycling. Typically for a London borough council, there are machiavelian by-laws that sound like a game of Mornington Crescent. Thou shalt not place bags out before 9.30pm the night before. Thou shalt not not include waxy paper in thy bag of recycling. Etc etc etc ad infinitum.

So, anyway. By about 8.00am on the alloted morning when I leave for work, the street is lined with brightly coloured bags, all waiting to be collected.

But when I get home, there is just one batch, my neighbours, which has somehow been put out after all the others have been collected, and will sit there on the pavement for a week. Waiting.

I mean, do they just not get it? It's like this EVERY week!??

Cease the rant.

Phew. I thank you. Stupid of me I know. But it's been bugging me all weekend.

Well. Sort of.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Sunday night homework

It's Sunday evening and I'm supposed to be reading up on stuff on Jerusalem and Bethlehem for work and all I can hear in my head - ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY HEAD - is Little Donkey on a continuous loop.


Entirely inappropriate.

Music on please. Click!

Also easing off the effects of last night drinking, drinking and drinking in the bars of South London. Which was mighty fun. Shocking that we don't go out in Brixton more really, as it's just over there. Look, just there. Do you see.

Went to Satay Bar for foodstuffs and then a wine bar called Hive on Beehive Place. I think it used to be the Havana bar thing, but now is not. It was nice, but I can't find a weblink for it. Arse.

With distressing inevitability thoughts have turned to Christmas. People already making vague plans. Adverts appearing on the tellybox (W H Smith's have ditched the crap worm puppet things from last year. Nor are they asking Nicholas Lyndhurst to drag up again it seems. Thank you Holy Farter.). Decorations in shops. Groan. I may be in danger of turning into a grumpy young man*.

...Actually, I have been thinking I've been on a bit of late-twenties-crisis trip lately. Then I thought to myself that that is just so impossibly up its own bottom that really I should just get on with life and stop whinging about work and how busy I am. And actually bloody organise some things with friends.

Spent a fabulous and therapeutic couple of hours yesterday over a very long breakfast/lunch with Lady Lana yesterday, in which we bemoaned the state of some aspects of our lives. While eyeing up the barstaff and our fellow-customers. Obviously. It was dead nice. But not of interest here.

Also this weekend there has been signs of the resuscitation effort on my lovelife working. Hooray. We have a blip on our blippy-monitor thing they always have in Holby City.

Oh Christ I don't watch Holby City. I swear. Not for ages, anyway... though someone should really get the scriptwriters to tackle MRSA.

(*Does anyone else still automatically hear Kathy Burke screeching "YOUNG MAAAN!" from Harry Enfield And Chums? No? Just me? Hokaythen.)

Monday, October 17, 2005

I chuffing well did it!

56 minutes and 19 seconds - I did it! I did it!

I know it's daft, it's not a huge achievement, for a professional athlete 10k isn't very much - but I honestly wasn't sure I could do it. I have never ever run that far in my life before, so to do it was one thing, to do it under an hour was even better.

I feel well pleased. If a little stiff today.

Flatmates all did great times too. Beautiful day. Many attractive people panting through the park. People even chatting each other up during the race.

My god we were hungry after. Back to the flat and craving bacon sarnies. Mmmmmm.

Hooray us.

And on top of it, someone told me today that Fairbridge is actually a really good charity, so that annuls some of my Nike-guilt.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Ernie II: The Chalk's Revenge


And you thought there would be no links between posts on this blog... hah...

A cascade of rubbishness is descending from the sky across the happy-camper parade of life. The flat alone contains a trinity of bad days. Missing mobiles, traumatic haircuts and exploding cars. No, really.

In the pub last weekend though, as we watched our quiz team fail miserable (though we aced the picture round - small weeny victories) this website was waved under my nose (conversationally) - it is amazing. I cannot wait to try the next time one of us lapses into la-la land. Heh heh heh...

Right, anyway. Life - where were we? Spectacularly good-little-boy-routine last week when I went to stay with Grannie-Boz:

"I just got a few things in as I knew you were coming down."

Jesus Holy Crikey.

Really nice time out of London though, catching up on a funky little town I haven't been to in far, far too long. It sounds daft, but it smelt the same, and was very evocative. Grannie-Boz on ace form.

The rest of the week is a blur, though did go and see a couple of Mae West films with Mark at the NFT. Especially rated Night After Night, in which everyone says her role is tiny, but she really does steal everything but the cameras.

Atta girl.

Obviously, big news of the month is that the Will-Emma-Ed storyline has finally peaked.

It's Friday night. I'm knackered. I'm done here.


Friday, September 30, 2005

Party politicals

Actual politics aside, does anyone else find it incredibly depressing when an 82 year old man is forcibly ejected by three heavies from a party conference? I mean, hello? How paranoid are we about a little well-earned criticism?

Bah. I do hate the way politicians are 'protected' from the people whose lives they govern. Besides, it was his own party conference, after all. It's not like he was there as a Tory interloper. I know they have to do their job 'n all, but the Prime Minister of Sweden just lives in an ordinary house on an ordinary street. No special treatment for him. He is just a man, doing a job. In Swedish.

Talking of which it's the Tory conference next week, which I'm sure will be really just about sizing each other up and making loud noises about becoming leader.

Come along children, play nicely.

I have been a bit unwell this week. I realised I was a touch dehydrated when I managed to force out a tiny bit of wee that was roughly the colour of earwax. And almost the consistency. Nice...

Right. I'm off to book my Bon Jovi tickets for Wembley (nonotreallyyousillies).

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

An apology

Hey, I haven't blogged in ages. Whoops. Sorry.

I'm buried under a sodden mound of work at the moment, which is a fantastically lame excuse, but a true one. I promise I will try and blog something amusing/meaningful/interesting/pretty to look at/worthwhile by the end of the week.


Thursday, September 22, 2005


Ladies, Gentlemen, fiends and friends, may I introduce to you, fresh from re-housing, it's...

You play bridge with me, and I'll play bridge with you.

For good reason I try toavoid talking about my job on this site.

But suffice to say that if you happened to be out and about in London this week and happened to be crossing a certain bridge at a certain time and witnessed a slightly ruffled, stressed young man, begging people in a terribly English sort of way that, if they possibly wouldn't mind at all, if they could just hang on here for a second while we take some pictures of this group of people, then that would be, gosh, just awfully nice of you (but expressing this in the medium of mumbles, flapping arms and eyebrow movements)... then that was me!


Wow, there are a lot of incredibly attractive people floating around in central London during the daytime.

It's enough to make you give up work and salivate for a living.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Season of Whispas and mellow Fruitandnuts

Is it just me or has anyone else started carboloading now that it's turned slightly colder?

I seem to be permanently starving and have just polished off a chocolate bar. It's not even lunch yet. And I craved pan aux chocolat this morning sooooo much.

I've also been sleeping really solidly, which would normally be nice but I'm groggy at work during the day.

I love summer. I love autumn. But this year the time it takes from one to change to the other seems to be happening veryquicklyspeed.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Lost of the Summer Wine

I have no idea which bit of the internet is from, but it's brilliant (thanks again, Mark):

Coming this winter CSI: Emmerdale.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Pay attention class

"Autumn has so landed and I love it." [Mark, 17 September 05]

In lieu of Trinny and Susannah just being just a bit pants, we present the FANNY and CLITORIS Autumn season fashion guide 2005.

1. Bags and shoes: When you see them you just have to go hell for leather.
Why are so many bags and shoes the same? Why is nothing new happening in footwear and accessories?

2. Key colours this season: Black, Navy, Burgundy, Grey, A Hint Of Orange, Nutmeg, Air Freshener

3. Student: The Look is IN IN IN.

4. Beauty is timeless. Make fucking time for it.

5. Shirts under jumpers: Plain or patterned? The debate rages on.

6. Beware scarves. BEWARE. It's a fine line.

7. Long coats - only when the sun is low in the sky in January and February.

8. Think nouveau retro chic. Now just put on what you were going to anyway and instantly feel better about it.

9. Have competitions with your friends to see who can get their stuff sold out from charity shops quicker.

10. Pom-poms kids - JUST SAY NO. Unless you are a kid. Obviously. I mean how many people did you see wearing capes? Exactly.

11. There is an area to achieve between smart and smartcasual. It is to be aimed for, Lets call it semi-smasual.

12. Men should not wear tights. Ever.

We thank you.

F & C

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Corporate terror

Horror of the week: tomorrow is our company... gulp... Away Day.

Oh it sounds so beguilingly 'jolly', doesn't it? Like a picnic by the seaside.

Still, it's not as bad as a mate of mine. Once every year they force out in the fresh air to play team games. Can't be having with that. It's not natural. It's a workplace, for crying out loud. They even give everyone the teams in advance so they can... practice.


Can you imagine having to play rounders for the first time since you were nine with Fran from accounts? Not that we have a Fran in accounts. Fran's hypothetical. Poor Fran. It's the chair she's got, you know.

Luckily all we have to do is troop up to my bosses place in the country (on a Friday. Hmmm. I see what she's done there, the cunning minx) and chat about... well us, really.

But it has meant I've had to do all my week's work in just under four days. Bumtits.

To get me through this trauma I've been listening to Diffusion's ridiculously silly and sublime bootleg of the Chemical and Righteous Bros, which can be found in all its silly gloriousness here.

I also have a few good things on Friday night to look forward to, which I will shove up here over the weekend.

There is a distinct whiff of Autumn in the air.

(Boz adopts pose of soothsayer-come-commuter. Lightening flashes. Thunder rolls.)

Wednesday, September 14, 2005


I have not used my walkman for over six months.

The world it is a changing.

AVOCADO WATCH: People we have leaves. In a funny reddy colour, which I wasn't expecting. I think I might call it Geoffrey. For no good reason.

Oh gods I wouldn't be naming my plants if I was having more sex, I'm sure. Or would I? Paranoid self-doubt!

Would ramble more but helping Damascus move flats in a bit.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Don't flash at me, telecommunications device

For some inelegant reason, probably designed for companies larger and more sophisticated than mine that use exciting inventions such as voicemail (and not a cheap ansaphone), the phone sitting on our desks have big red lights on the top. Presumably these are to tell us we have messages, for which we do not have the facility.

For some reason mine is always on, flashing off briefly once every 4 seconds or so.

It's driving me slowly mad. And I have no apparent way of getting rid of it.

That is all.

Monday, September 12, 2005

And now in sporting news

We won the Ashes!!

Just in time for coverage to disappear off to Sky.

To celebrate with me, please watch some goats fainting.

Go on. It's hilarious. And they don't come to any harm. It's a genetic thing. Allegedly. (Thanks to Mark for the tip off...).


We (not the royal we, the flatmates we) have just completed a 5k practice run around Clapham Common for this 10k run we've foolishly commited ourselves too.

Did it in about 28 minutes - which I'm so chuffed with I cannot tell you. I think it might be the longest I have run without stopping since School. That's a bit shocking, really.

But for the first time I think I might be able to complete the 10k. Yay!

And now I must return the excellent The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou to Blockbuster.

Such is life.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Exercise high!

I have a secret weapon. My training runs just taken on a whole new dimension. I shouldn't be suprised really. The missing element is a very old friend...


I'm serious! I've just got back from a 35 minute run - the longest I have had for literally years. And I think it's because I had half a bottle of wine with lunch. Obviously, I've had loads of water before and since, but I actually feel marvellous. Whoo-hoo!

Work, on the other hand, is a complete pile of toss.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Hello world...?

As everyone appears to be watching the cricket (256 for 4 as I types this, 63 overs), I am wasting my time reading Holy Moly's very brilliant Rules of Modern life.

Best ones so far:

Kanye West is not a service station on the M4.
Much like the members of The Beatles, Labour politicians will die in the wrong order.
Do not pick John Prescott as a 'Slap Happy' target.

Though I realise with horror than when ordering coffee in a public place I do, in fact, say "can I get..." and not "may I please have...". I have no idea when this happened.

Carry on!

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Splat, slice, stab, impale and fry

Splendid and tremendous* evening with Mark last night. We went to see Theatre of Blood at the National Theatre. It was a fabulous gothic riot of blood, gore, Shakespeare and high camp. And it was superbly funny.

The basic plot - based on a 1973 film - is simple; an embittered actor, his career killed off by savage reviews and awards rejection, invites a group of drama critics to an old and abandoned theatre, and slowly bumps them off by enacting upon them deaths from Shakespeare. Jim Broadbent steals the show as the vengeful Edward Lionhart. It had a very knowing side-plot about the National Theatre being constructed that was quite vicious.

I loved it, and can't do it justice here, so have a gander at this.

Incidentally I stole the above ToB image from the lovely Airside. Who are in part the alsoverylovely Lemon Jelly who Mark and I saw back in 2004 at the Forum. Yes. Could I get any more links into this post?


Look! Roots! Stalk bits! A general air of expectation and excitement!

Clearly I will have to re-home this soon. How exciting. A bit.

* I am in no way Alan Partridge. A bit.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Crapitating crap-bags

Yes. I know I’m supposed to go for a run after work today, but I don’t want to.

Excuse the grump, but I’m hot and sweaty as it is. And it’s Monday. And bleurgh.

And we came fourth in the pub quiz last night – continuing our steady downward trend. We bloody won a few months ago. But last night an entire half-round was devoted to the Ashes. I don’t know that much about cricket. Although this Thursday should be quite exciting.

Anyway. We’re sure the winners cheated. And we’re sure we sound bitter about it.

Have discovered this brill website that lets you search for other blogs by the nearest tube station.

Wow. We Londoners are cynical fiends – but it’s nice to know I’m not the only one regretting signing up for the 10k.

Although I do feel a bit better after heading out with flatmates and friends on Saturday night (an odd evening after a beautiful day – dark and strangely misty. Very Stephen King does south London.) and working out that 10k is around six miles.

Six miles. I can picture that. I may not want to run it, but at least I can picture how far it is.

Still chuckling away at the Dorothy Parker biography. A telegram to a friend in Hollywood reads:


Mmmm. I know how she feels.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Art, wit and gardening

Made free with my Tate membership again today by seeing the Joshua Reynolds exhibition at Tate Britain. Very good, very good. Didn't know much about him beforehand, I have to confess. But I had come across a few of his sitters before - including the really-rather-fabulous-for-an-aristo Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Now there was a lady who blew a shit load of cash gambling, in between other more worthy political achievements.

The biography by Amanda Foreman is a riot, and fascinating. (who dear? me dear? socialist background? yes dear.)

And we 21st century things think we invented celebrity. Oh no.

I'm reading a biography of Dorothy Parker Lady D picked up second (possibly fourth of fifth) hand for a train journey, before she flew to South America. It's also great fun but I'm sorry, no one can drink that much and still be witty, can they? Can they??

Someone once asked her for a sentence using the word horticulture. Her reply was "you can lead a horticulture but you can't make her think".

Friday, September 02, 2005

Bugger Yossarian; Ernie lives!

Bit of an odd post today.

When I was at the sticky age of thirteen, I used to travel on the Northern Line everyday to school. Or the Misery Line as it was called by most people.

There was a serial scribbler who for several years periodically dotted the tubes with schoolboy wit and alterations, often changing the maps on the tubes, or adding in stations and comments on places and areas. He signed most things ‘Ernie Crabb’, and had quite distinctive handwriting. I and my best friend Marcus used to try and spot as many as we could, in the hot baking days of the summers of our youth (can you hear the violins? can you? don’t bother. I wouldn’t go back to being that age again for all the gold in Elton John’s gaff).

I have no idea who Ernie was, or what happened to him. For all I know he could have been a mildly rebellious middle-aged woman. He was certainly very funny (although typically I can’t remember much of it now).

The reason I have been thinking about ‘him’ again lately is this. Everyday on my way to work I have been walking past a site where they are constructing a new set of flats. (It should be noted that I walk this way to avoid the Northern Line entirely, and use the Victoria Line instead). For ages that had big wooden chipboard fences up painted blue, to protect the site as construction went on.

For a few weeks, every few days someone would come along in the night and, quite neatly, write the same name repeated across the boards, along with something odd or funny. The names would be usually of famous people, like Diana Ross, Lulu or obscure 70s bands, for no apparent reason. Inevitably it would be cleaned off, to be neatly replaced almost within 24 hours with something new. It was totally inoffensive, very endearing, and made me chuckle at 8am – which former flatmates will tell you is no mean feat.

Is Ernie alive and well in South London??

Things in New Orleans sound almost apocalyptic. We’re all just a hairs width away from chaos. But such proselytising does nothing for the people there who right now need a lot of very fast, practical help (and perhaps a president who is less of a knob).

Thursday, September 01, 2005

115 days to Christmas...

September? Already?

That means I have blogged across four months - that is a lot longer than I thought I would get around to doing, and I haven't nearly scratched the surface of all the meaningless tripe I have to offer.

So the weekend. It doesn't sound like much now, but I spent not a few hours of it just wandering around London randomly in the sunshine. I've said before I'm easily pleased, and true as that may be, it's always very inspiring to stroll round the city and see what humanity is up to. Hence the witterings about King's Road, I suppose!

Spent Saturday night in Crystal Palace with a bunch of Uni mates, including Flatmate Mark. Fantastic fun. And not just because of the three rum cocktails at the fantastic Domali Cafe. Then we headed to a great Thai resturant and ate several tonnes of delicious grub. Mmmmm.

The couple living in Crystal Palace who we gathered around are buying a flat - which still seems a scary and grown-up thing to me. But they are a brilliant couple and doing it for totally the right reasons. Plus they have a decent bit of travelling under their belts. All v stressful for them though.

Anyway. Saturday night ended up very silly with us on the floor of their current flat, rolling around with laughter. Wayhey!

On Monday I wussed out of going to the Notting Hill Carnival (was not in the mood for crowds) evening was spent in the delightful company of another friend in town. Really odd. I don't know if it was the weather or the holiday weekend, but it was really quiet everywhere. The bar we planned to go to was closed, and we were in central London, just off Oxford Circus. Chose a random pub and had it practically to ourselves. The poor barman was starved of human contact and brought our drinks over to us.

The sad truth of it is I cannot for the life of me remember what I did on Friday night. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Anyone? Lately I have been getting really bad blank spots from booze and I'm reasonably sure I wasn't sober... I'm sure it'll come back to me... Oh cripes I hope I haven't just offended anybody...


Wednesday, August 31, 2005

An excited service annoucement

THIS is the first ever post from my new laptop. And holy-crikey do I love it.

Praise be to Apple.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005



Monday, August 29, 2005

Chelsea ruins

Okay, I'll do a fuller report on the weekend later, but as I was strolling down King's Road yesterday (I'm nostalgic for Chelsea, nostalgic for Sloane and the King's Road flat that I called my own - thank you Readers Wives) I saw this fantastic old geezer chatting to a girl with a camera, while he was apparently begging on the street. He was dressed to the hilt and had a sign that included the following printed line:

"Can you spare 50p towards the cost of a cup of tea and Viagra?"

Sir, I salute you!

Chuckled to myself as I tripped down the road for a while after that one. Chelsea really is full of mad and insane people. I think inside me there is a little bit of a Sloane-Ranger, and wandering around there is as close am I'm going to get to letting it out. Forget the pretty young dullards with too much cash floating around saying "yuh, yuh, absolutely" into their mobile phones. It's the crazy old folks that I love. The 60's hangovers that drift around, pretty much owning the place.

I was in The Chelsea Kitchen a while back - one of my favourite places on earth ever since I was a kid (and that has nothing to do with my inner-Sloane. The place is an institution and rightly so.) - with Damascus. We were sat behind this riotous couple. He had thin hair dyed an intense black, cravat, huge 70's specs and skin the colour of walnuts. And he didn't speak. She had back-combed hair, a black polo-neck and heavy makeup apparently applied with a shotgun.

In short, they were fabulous. And her voice. She would make the Royal family look common. It was chic gone to total ratchet and, dammit, nothing was going to make them change. It was only about noon but I'm sure she was half a bottle of cooking sherry down.

Turns out the woman sitting at the table next to them had known them vaguely in their former glory (from Charles Street hotel in Mayfair. I mean, please, stop it.) They obviously had no clue who this woman was, but she was not letting them go. It was brutal, hilarious and full of pathos. And bathos too, I suppose. What I wouldn't give to know what their backstories were...

It's a strange part of town. posh, but with bits of shabbyness that make it interesting. I always think I should be in a Beatles film or The Avengers (God Bless Brian Clemens) when I'm there.

Anyway. Enough. This is beginning to sound sychophantic. Posh and bonkers is what it boils down to.

Gotta run now. Meeting a friend in Soho for cocktails.

(Yes, yes, I know. Forgive me, but it's just such a great thing to type... chin-chin!)

Friday, August 26, 2005

Shaking fist at sky

Look! See? It is actually about to rain on my parade.

The weather has been beautiful all day. Now it's 4.30pm, London is about to knock off for three days away from the office and it has clouded over and looks like it is about to rain.


What do you meeean I have nothing of consequence to say?!

It's Friday. And it's really sunny. And it's a bank holiday weekend. And for some reason I'm just insanely and inanely happy this morning!!



This is bound to mean the world is about to crap all over my face.
Gah - pessimism in the face of perversity.

I have a habit of getting carried away with exclamation marks. Is there self-help group out there somewhere, do you think?

But I am feeling really chipper today. Maybe it's because I slept really well last night. Had some very odd dreams though. Don't worry. I'm not going to bore everyone to tears with long, detailed descriptions of things that wouldn't make any sense anyway. But in short, Lana? Please don't ever try and get jiggy in my grannies bedroom, okay?

Bring on the weekend! Bring on the merrymaking! Bring on the dancing guinea pigs!

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Out there... somewhere

Sorry - not many posts this week. Not a lot going on. Busy times at work, but I'm trying just to think about the Bank Holiday weekend without making too many fixed plans. Maybe I'll head to the cinema, as there seem to be some interesting stuff around at the moment. S'quite nice not having masses planned. Or maybe I'm just getting old and boring...


Killing some time playing around in the fancy-schmancy semi-psychedelic flash thing from the Lost series, Lost Untold .

It's a bit fun. And shiny.

The laptop has been shipped!! Whoo-hoo! It's out there... somewhere... But I'm not holding out much hope it'll reach me tomorrow, before the weekend.

AVOCADO WATCH: We now have a root of nearly 2cms. I'm so proud.

Monday, August 22, 2005


Monday. Rain. Bah.

So in a shameless piece of mood-related consumerism I am going to cheer myself up by ordering a new laptop after work today - yippeee!

Fingers crossed for it arriving in time for the bank holiday.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

My baby!

Sitting in her parents garden with my soon Peruvian-bound friend, following a night of drinking our bodyweight in red wine - so much for keeping off booze for a bit - putting the world to rights. We have decided that as no one sends telegrams anymore, that from now on all text messages have to be in form of Haiku's:

Soz am running late
due to crappy South West Trains
I will c u soon

Hmmm. This could catch on. More contributions please.

She has also started compiling a list of central London locations for work lunches where, and this is the important bit, there is no mobile phone reception. No one from the office can reach you. Or they will assume you're on the tube (curse their plans to introduce mobile reception down there! Nooooo!). This is genius. Apparentely there's no reception at the top of the Gherkin. Factoid!

In other news, I am very excited. I have offspring. I have finally managed to get an avacado stone to sprout - look! Look! I know it's daft but I'm really excited. I tried with another and it just sat on top of the jar doing nothing for four months. I read somewhere supermarket avacados are irrradiated or something, but that could be hearsay. I grew peppers last year. Simple things please me.

Yes, that is a shot glass it's on. And what of it?

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Somebody help me drift?

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months." - Oscar Wilde

Many thanks to the Random Oscar Wilde Quaotes Page for the above. Sometimes if I'm feeling abit stuck or confused I visit this site and generate a random one for guidance. You'd be suprised how effective this can be. Makes Oscar a 20th century guru, I suppose. Can't see him on a mountainside though. Although possible between two small hills.

Just don't do the Mae West one unless you're feeling a bit frisky. Which I am as it happens. "Oh-wahh!"

Lady D and I went to see the fantastically funny play Dirty Blonde last year - sort of half Mae West biography and half love story between two Mae West fans. Really sweet and superbly camp, with bits of inspired hilarity. Especially watching the modern day Mae West fan, dressed as her idol, strutting her feather boa in a dance nightclub. I'd never seen a Mae West film at the time and still haven't! I think it's a treat I'm saving for later.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Warm up

In some moment of madness I have signed myself up to participate in the Nike 10K Run London thing on October 16th.

I must be insane.

I'm not very exercise-y. I eat okay, bar the odd take away (eek). I don't smoke. But I don't really do any exercise either. I get bored at the gym. I'm not a 'team sports' person. I sometimes drink like fish.

But I have been thinking to myself that I need to kick-start some healthy living so perhaps this is a good opportunity. I may die in the attempt though.

I'm blaming my flatmates, as they both successfully did it last year. One of them has run a marathon. I have warned them I am going to be relentlessly melodramatic about it for the next two months.

I did go for a 20 minute run on Monday though. Okay I walked some of it. And I ache a bit today. That's good though, isn't it...?

I also bought a new pair of trainers yesterday (shiny!). But it was only on my lunch break today that I sat down and actually worked out that the distance between Clapham North and St. Ockwell tube stations is as near as dammit a kilometer. Ergo, doing 10k will be like running that distance ten times...


Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Lunch musing

It is a beautiful day outside.

I am here behind a desk. On my own. In the office.


Still I have piles of exciting work to keep me occupied this afternoon. Thrilling phone calls to make and exciting documents to read. Or something.

But do you know what, I actually should not complain. I've just had a reeeeally nice email from a friend down in Sussex who is about to move with her boyfriend to Tunbridge Wells ("I know... T.Wells... Twinned with StuckUpBaden - No Gays, No Tramps, No Public Expression of Fun...") to live with his dad. Her youngest baby is running through a series of stressful, disjointed and above all long NHS tests to discover the cause of what appears to be a sight problem. She hasn't had a night out with her man in two years... who am I to moan??

AND she still managed to send me a really nice birthday card. I'm barely that organised with my family.

Think happy thoughts.

Final series of Six Feet Under starts on E4 tonight. I have been an addict since it started but have a feeling I will only catch this final series intermittently. A shame as I still love it.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Back to "reality"

Cor blimey. What a weekend.

Party turned out very well despite the best attempts of the British weather to put a dampener on things. After the third Manhattan I ceased to care.

Really good mix of people - friends old and new. Inevitably with summer birthdays some people are always on holiday, but I had a grrrrreat time, and feel very lucky to have received some amazing presents, from people kind enough to make sure I got home safely.

Amazingly, woke up with only a minor hangover, and the perfect opportunity to ease it off listening to music in Marble Hill Park, for the 'goodbye' celebration of bezzie mate Lady D, before she heads off to Peru later this week.

I am going to miss her. A lot.

I wish I could say more. But it's my first day back in the office after my week off and my head is just not quite with it yet.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Party. Panic.


I should vaguely be getting ready for this evening. It's the birthday party for Lady L and myself. I have more or less nailed what to wear, checked that the clothes are actually clean, I have a present and card for Lady L, I have decided I will shave off the beardyness I have developed during my week off and have more or less dealt with the hair crisis, as it was in a desperate inbetween washings stage.

Now I just have to suss out who is coming over for dinner beforehand, what to cook them and who is meeting us at the bar and at what time, what the best way for us to all get there is and oh look there's blood dripping out of my ears...

I'm not good with organisation and things. In my panic this morning I washed the bathroom and kitchen floors. But it'll be great later when we're all there and have had a few drinks. I'm listening to a bit of Rufus Wainwright to calm me down.

Had a really nice birthday though. Spent the day looking after, well, no, that's not fair, just with one of my nephews. Then joined my sister and other nephew for diner at Wagamamas. Mmmmmmtastygoodtreat.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Terminator 4: Rise of the Telebugs

So Family Affairs is biting the dust? Let the juggernaut of better telly roll on towards Hollyoaks!

Though to be fair I have a bit of a soft spot for Family Affairs - a TV soap/ongoing-drama (WHATEVAH) that has killed off almost the entire cast once before. It takes some guts to so blatantly admit it's all going a bit Pete Tong.

Dodgy gascooker at a family wedding, in case you're interested. It's all just too (original) Crossroads.

Excuse me, there's a voice inside telling me to get out and mix with some real people.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Eric the Banana Cake

I have just realised this blog is getting farrrr to 'I did this, then I did this'. Not how I planned at all.

But anyway. Look! The Banana cake I did bake.

The damn thing hasn't cooled yet so I don't know how good it may or may not taste. The smell is fantastic though.

Cream teas at dawn

Morning world!

Just spent the morning doing a mah-hu-sive pile of washing up and hoovering so feeling justalittlefruity and abitholy now. No work for meee this week - yippeeee!

So now sitting on flatmate's laptop (not literally, obviously) and listening to the new Goldfrapp single. Oh La La indeed.

Had a brilliant weekend. Last thing on Friday at work we cracked open a few bottles of wine, to celebrate my birthday this week, and they presented me with membership to the Tate galleries. I'm so chuffed! They are some of my favourite places in London. Hopefully this week I'll have time to mooch around them a bit more. PLUS I get to swan into the membership rooms now. Tee hee hee! I'm aiming to check out the one in St Ives this year now as well. It's such a fantastic present!

Then on Friday evening my flatmate invited some people over for dinner and to help us knock back some of the cheap booze. All got very silly and we ended up doing kareoke on the playstation. Oh dear. Mind you, I'm sorry but I kick arse at Deee-Lite's 'Groove is in the Heart'. I'm sure I should put that on my CV.

Stupidly, stupidly booked myself onto a 9am train to get back to my parentals the following morning. But I did manage to crawl myself out of bed and grab enough stuff for a couple of nights in deepest, darkest Wiltshire.

But by the time I got to Paddington I was badly in need of some caffeine. Saw this sign in Starbucks which made me laugh. I'm sure it's not supposed to sound like such a command. Maybe I'm old fashhioned or boring, but I think milk and sugar is customisation enough, really.

Anyway, had a wonderful few days seeing mum and dad. And drank a LOT of alcohol. Coupled with getting up early to walk the dog, I think I'm missing about five or six hours of really solid, decent sleep.

Also, it was the village fete for my parents villagge.

They. Are. All. Mad. And not a little arts and craftsy around the waist and ankles.

Now I promise I'm not being cool, or snotty, or 'aren't the country yokels quaint' here. The village fete is a stunning event. The cream teas are legendary, it's huge fun for kids, they had a great live jazz band this year and the bookstall is superb. I got a beautiful old book of quotations for 20p. I mean, 20p. But half of the fun is everyone swapping around the same old village junk that has been cluttering up their houses for years. Decades. And don't get in the way of any old dears making a bee-line for the plant stall. They will take you out at the knees. Much has been written in this world about the cunning, deviousness and generally vicious outlook of 'little old ladies'. It's all true.

To cap it off, I found out this weekend that the local vicar is called Roger. Roger the Vicar. I mean, you couldn't make this stuff up...

I'm sure they'll be more anecdotes from The Village. It keeps us amused.

I think I'm going to carry on my domestic god theme for the day. I might bake a cake. But I'll leave you with another picture from the countryside, which it was very nice to be back in for a few days. Apologies for being weeny - it's only from my camera phone. Though looking at it again, it is a bit Blair Witchy....

Friday, August 05, 2005

Anticipation. And fish curry.

Three hours until I have a week off. A WEEK OFF. First annual leave since January. I could almost weep with happiness.

The best bit is I have nothing planned for most of the week. It'll fly by but a delicious, whole week of mooching around doing my own thing. Mmmmmmmmbrilliant.

Hopefully I'll get around to some cultural stuff too, so you nevever know, you might find something of interest up here.

Of course I have huge stack of work to do before I can escape...

Made a fish curry last night for Lady D and the flatmates. Was pretty chuffed, as I'm not much of an adventurous cook, I tend to stick to what I know. I shamelessly stole it from a TV programme we had watched the night before and the recipe can be found at the Full On Food site here.

Then we watched the Royal Tennenbaums, which is definitely one of my favourite films. I wish someone would just come in and colour-scheme my life like that for me, then shoot it with stunning photography and play it to superb music. My mum does look a bit like Angelica Houston I suppose.

Makes me nostalgic for New York and I haven't even BEEN to New York.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Links. v good.

Well. I was going to post today about some pretty incisive rules for blogging flatmate N came up with more or less off-the-cuff, but that upstart Damascus has beaten me to it. Curses!

But they are three really good points. Namely, to keep your blog interesting:
1. frequently link to other blogs, sites and webpages
2. talk about what you have linked to
3. occasionally be serious about stuff, and offer a more serious comment every now and again.

I realise I probably have been a bit, well, I suppose sort of 'glancing' in my approach to blogging so far. (There is a better word for what I mean, but I can't think of it. Slapdash? Sorry. It's only 11am and I haven't had any caffeine yet today. Crashing on...) Rest assured at some point we will scratch the surface of Boz and get down to some nitty-gritty. In the meantime, I'm trying to resist reading the new Bridget Jones column starting today's Independent. Please don't get me wrong. I love Harry Potter, His Dark Materials and any other trashy or not-really-strictly-for-adults literature you can throw at me. It's just that if I start, I know I'll get hooked in and I'll gorge myself and then feel slightly... despoiled afterwards. On the other hand, the Martin Lukes column in the FT is heee-larious. Maybe they could cross over.

Don't be misled. I have to read the FT for work.

I think the Big Brother house may be about to implode. Tea, anyone?

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Geek? C'est chic pour le seigneur du temps.

And the clock timing how long it takes Hennes to knock-out a variation on the new Dr Who costume starts.... NOW!

Please 'scuse the cobbled-together french.

Dusk, anyone? High in fat, low in fat? Dusk? Anyone?

Am mare-ing a bit over arrangements for birthday party with Lady L. Neither of us massively want to celebrate in a big way. Everyone seems to be giving birthdays a miss this year, as most of our mates hover in the nondescript zone that is the mid-to-late-twenties.

We'll be happy with just a corner of bar somewhere. I'm sure we'll end up like last year though, with at least one of us vomiting down the side of a building from a window two floors up. There are some worrying blank patches from the Boom Bar, St John's Hill, August 2004...

So far we have checked out The Key and Dusk bar, both in the Clapham/Battersea region. The Key was nice, but a bit wee. Dusk bar was lovely, but pricey (our friends are cheap and we love them) and miles away from anyway. Ho hum. Any suggestions gratefully received.

Also we're both used to summer birthdays when everyone is away on holiday. Still, it makes for an ecletic mix of people.

It'll all be good. I have next week off work so if we have Broadband back in the flat I can keep you updated with all the enthralling details. I promise this blog will eventually live up to its 'adventures' title.

Flatmate the C came back from France last night with the most amazing amount of alcohol. As flatmate N pointed out - if there is a fire in our flat in the next few weeks we might take out most of the road.

Er. Sorry about the post title. Couldn't resist.

I realise I haven't updated you on my brilliant w/e. After checking out venues with Lady L on Friday evening, spent saturday practicing my impression of a domestic god (okay, I repotted some plants. I was bored, my flatmates were both away). Then went out to celebrate the last shift of Damascus working in a certain well-known Clapham drinking establishment. Haven't laughed so much in ages.

Then spent Sunday morning with my head down a toilet. Hey-ho. And I thought sticking to vodka all night would help.

Recovered in time to visit my sister and nephews before they go on holiday for a week. I was the youngest in my family for ages, so it's a bit scary watching kids (sorry, "young people") grow up. I keep thinking, oh yeah, I remember that bit. Really lovely to see them all though. Then a chilled out Sunday evening with flatmate N. Ace!

Monday, August 01, 2005

The Third High Overlord of Paperclips

Ooooooo stationery order! Excitement abound!

Come on people. I know I'm not alone on this...

Friday, July 29, 2005

At one with my five portions of fruit and veg

Two posts in one day!

I've just had a really healthy lunch and am feeling holy.

That's all.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Cutting along nicely

My gran will hate this "humid" weather. She will be sitting there complaining about her legs to her overfed and spoilt cat (My nephew's nemesis. It channels satan. It is not a nice cat. Look, it's not even a 'he'.).

Sudden pang of guilt as I haven't spoken to her for aaages.

On the other hand I am the favoured grandchild this six months, as my birthday card reached her on time, as opposed to the ones from the rest of my family.

Blimey. Friday again already. Last night went out to a bar on The Cut, by the Old Vic theatre, to meet up with lady B and lady D. Really nice place. Music not too loud to talk, which was grand as we had some serious catching up to do with B. She's had a boyf since Christmas and we've only just found out. Whoops! But otherwise all good.

We were all knackered though, so left at about 9.40 to toddle home. The Northern Line went tits up when I got to Kennington (a points failure: how deliciously passé!) so I had to walk from there to Clapham. I now have more blister than right foot. That'll learn me for wearing smart shoes on a whim.

I was a bit morose when I got home, as it's really hit home that D is going away for possibly the best part of year in a matter of days. I have known D for just a gnat's chuff under ten years, and this makes me sad. But we have fun things planned for the next few weeks. Hoyesss.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

GoldenBoz: In-Vogue Agent (ouch...)

Flatmate (I have two, I must come up with a way to differentiate between them. Let's call this one 'Flatmate the N') the N has just bought 'Goldeneye: Rogue Agent'...

Fantastic! We're loving some mindless, shooty-shooty gaming fun round our place. ("It's good to be immature in Bond's world"). Boz is having much satisfaction venting anger and frustration from work in a harmlessly violent way. Tra-la-laaah.

The first Goldeneye game definied a lot of my uni time. Whoops.

It is a bit sad that the most exciting thing going on right now is a computer game though. Is it?!

Talking of things Fantastic though, went to see Fantastic 4 (or 'phwoar') with a mate the other night, after a really nice dinner. It was, essentially, a bit pants. But it was pants that are a lot of fun. Some of the cgi was dreadful, but on the whole it was a laugh. Can I contradict myself more?

Wow. I've think I've devolved into my 14 year old self. Wicked!

Except, obviously, I would never have said wicked when I was 14.

Saw a trailer for the new Herbie Lovebug film - why? WHY? - which looks so naff. And then yesterday on the way home from work I passed Steve Jones filming a segment for T4 Sunday outside Channel 4 offices with... the new Herbie car...

Monday, July 25, 2005

Dancing feet

Okay I was very definitely planning on having some more pictures up here by now, but our flat has been cursed by Bulldog broadband provider, and until we re-connect to BT (we're sorry, we're sorry, we shall never stray from your telecommunications path again...) then there's no t'internet for us. Bah.

Other than this spent the weekend in various states of mental disarray, either brought about by sleep or alcohol or both! First time I've been out dancing in ages. Much fun. Though typically while under the influence of drink I managed to upset a close friend - not a very clever or nice thing to do.

Was really busy in town though and we had to queue for aaaaages to get in. Haven't had to do that for a while. Boring. Found myself at 4.30am dancing semi-amorously (well, as much as you can be at 4.30am after several million drinks) with a good friend of an Ex, who I had not seen since splitting up with Ex after v short relationship. Is this bad form? I've been mulling this one over and I don't think so. We did not kiss or anything, so I think it was just fun.

Bypassed Sunday really. I'm told it was quite nice. Does dancing continuously for several hours count as a work out? No. I thought not.

Loving the new Gorillaz tune - 'Dare'. And the video. That's Shaun Ryder's head being danced around, that is. Genius.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Living the dream

Hmm? What's that?

Yes, yes. I have been off-radar for a while, my darlings.

I have been furthering my ultra-cool existence with a series of all-night spectatculars and low-key, exclusive gatherings of elite personages. Be-decked in outfits that would make the average fashionista just hang up their three-in-one haircuts and go home to sit on the sofa in their dressing gown, wepeing into their cocoa, we have been pushing the boundaries of twenty-first century international living with class, sophistication and an enormous amount of fun.

What's that? What do you say? No, no, how quaint of you... nothing to do with a certain scar-bearing teenage fictional wizard... no, how silly of you...

What this? Oh it's just a gift for my... hey! Hey, give that back! GIVE IT BACK! I have to lend that book to someone...

Okay. But I really also have been getting trollied this weekend for all-day birthdays, rolling around on the faux-grass outside the national theatre, loving the new shiny CD and stuff I purrr-chased over the w/e, seeing world-class puppetry performances and... winning the pub quiz on Sunday with flatmate and friends.

I've never won a pub quiz!

Handclaps all round.

Top weekend.

Friday, July 15, 2005

You're right tasty, you are

ARGH. HELP. I have that James Blunt song stuck in my head and it won't go away it won't go it won't go away it won't it won't...

Don't think I have anything else of interest to say today.

It's Friday! Can I get a whoop-whoop?

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Ug ug ug

....mmmm work and a hangover. Always fun. Crashing on...

Wednesday, July 13, 2005


People, people, people... what is going on?!

How can it be possible that Craig, the mooby one in the Big Brother house is STILL BLOODY IN THERE. I'm convinced that he's only hanging on because, aside from this week's strange, fate-like nominations, Craig spends any free moment rubbing someone's foot/back/head/ego in the desperate hope that they won't nominate him for eviction.

Charlie Brooker has the definitive assessment of Craig: "Listening to him is like lying in your own coffin, hearing rainwater seep through the cracks.". See the rest of his vitriol here.

Although avoiding it himself, Craig himself is the curse of death-slash-eviction. You think he would have learnt. Having polished off Lindsey, and by definition Team Britney after Vanessa, in a rare moment of cunning escaped to Team Makosi-slash-diva, he is now slowly picking off the last remaining members of Team Saskia. Anthony is the only one left, and is already looking worriedly around at the other flatmates in the hope one of them might talk to him properly again.

We're trying to calm down to watching only one episode a day in our flat. It's quite hot, so sitting around doing nothing has become disturbing easy. With BB on you don't even have to make small talk; there's people in the magic box in the corner who will do it for you. And then they provide stuff like this that you can rant on about after... just like this... oh...

I need to get out more, people.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Words! Images! Who knows - maybe one day Sound!

First there were words and then there were PICTURES!

We have the technology. Okay so the picture is a bit pants (name that tube station, kids!), but look it's a start okay? I mean this isn't Blow Up. Although I did wake up this morning thinking about David Hemmings.

There will be more, I promise.

Bit sad today. Contemplating a near future without my bezziemate, who is selfishly flying out to South America, possibly for up to a year.

Though obviously am v excited if v v jealous for them!

Monday, July 11, 2005


There has been enough conjecture on last Thursday and it's horrendousness, so I'm buttoning my lip until I have anything decent to say.

In other news...

Advertising genius. It's got a TV-AM-esque clock and everything. Although rumour reaches us that Rusty was due to stand as an MP for UKIP or Veritas, or some such type party, which obviously is Bad News. But maybe we were lied to.

Found myself wandering through a part of town I hadn't been around for a long time this weekend. Got a little nostalgic, I have to admit. But meandering along beside the river, nursing a mild headache from the previous night's dinner party* and thinking thinks from almost ten years ago was no bad thing. Although in part the nostalgia was bred by my iPod's BritPop section.

* c'mon kids! Let's use food as an excuse for sitting around, pontificating on the universe and killing some more braincells! Yey!

Friday, July 08, 2005

Surreal times

Okay so I can't really not talk about yesterday. One of those very surreal days that sometimes just happen out of nowhere.

Sitting in our office we more or less just watched the day unfold on TV. Very quiet outside, apart from sirens screaming around. We’re close to Scotland Yard, so a few areas were roped off.

Things like this have happened before – whether by human design or accident. They are horrible. They will probably happen again. Of course those who did this must be sought and brought to justice – but I really hope it doesn’t lead to any acts of senseless, egotistical revenge.

Deep inside, it felt a little bit like being a kid again, when we occasionally got let out of school early because of bomb threats. But people died yesterday, and others suffered panic, fear and injury.

I can’t really think of anything else to say. I don’t want to get pithy or prosaic about this, but walking home (the tube network was shut) it appears that Londoners had responded to times of crisis and attack in the traditional way.

We went to the pub.

Take care loves!

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Employee morals

Is it wrong to want to fall asleep at your work desk after lunch? is it?

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Global events, booze and Elijah Wood freaking me out

Right so another weekend disappears into the void then.
What happened to summer?
Watched Live8 on telly yesterday with flatmates. Better than I thought, I have to admit. But it does bug me a little that everyone keeps referring to it as a history-changing moment before it’s happened. Lord only knows how they managed to organise everything in such a short space of time. I suppose it shows what can be done. And how little Bobby G must sleep. Got a text from the parentals halfway through when I pointed out that he shouldn’t have returned to sing (wow I sound curmudgeonly). They pointed out that they were of the mind that he should never have started, but he can organise a good gig.
As if faintly aware they shouldn’t draw attention to themselves while major human rights and anti-poverty demonstrations happen across the globe, the Big Brother house has been v quiet this weekend. Probably because Team Saskia are in recovery from the loss of their leader…
Also went to see Sin City yesterday. Had no idea Frodo could be so scarily and fantastically creepy.
Much fun on Friday night. Friend moving out of her flat. To help her have less to pack we finished a bottle of rum, the last of a bottle of Pimms and made a further dent on the cointreau. Marvellous. And only a slight headache the next day - spirits are the way forward people.
Other than this I have spent the weekend reading Jasper Fforde and loving it.

Thursday, June 30, 2005


Okay, okay, yes, I realise I have failed miserably before I've even begun this whole blogging thing. But I was never any cop at keeping a diary so I don't expect this will be any better. One of my flatmates pointed out to me the other day that Doogie Howser was waaay ahead of us on this one...
Right. So brief background then - listeners tune your radiograms to London (the UK one), somewhere in my mid-twenties and male flavour. I think that's probably all you need to know for now. I'm sure other bits and pieces will become more apparent, like turds floating gently to the surface of a polluted canal...
Am off now to ponder ritual crisis of what to ask hairdresser for before haircut this evening. Disaster ensues, I'm sure.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

what's this now?!

Look! A Blog. From me!
This is only the first post and I have nothing to say.
More to follow shortly. Maybe.