No where Boy. Yes!

So poignant still.

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Thank You Mr A and David Hockney

His hair was a crow fished out of a blocked chimney
and his eyes were boiled eggs with the tops hammered in
and his blink was a cat flap
and his teeth were bluestones or the Easter Island statues
and his bite was a perfect horseshoe.
His nostrils were both barrels of a shotgun, loaded.
And his mouth was an oil exploration project gone bankrupt
and his smile was a caesarean section
and his tongue was an iguanodon
and his whistle was a laser beam
and his laugh was a bad case of kennel cough.
He coughed, and it was malt whisky.
And his headaches were Arson in Her Majesty's Dockyards
and his arguments were outboard motors strangled with fishing line
and his neck was a bandstand
and his Adam's apple was a ball cock
and his arms were milk running off from a broken bottle.
His elbows were boomerangs or pinking shears.
And his wrists were ankles
and his handshakes were puff adders in the bran tub
and his fingers were astronauts found dead in their spacesuits
and the palms of his hands were action paintings
and both thumbs were blue touchpaper.
And his shadow was an opencast mine.
And his dog was a sentry box with no-one in it
and his heart was a first world war grenade discovered by children
and his nipples were timers for incendary devices
and his shoulder blades were two butchers at the meat cleaving competition
and his belly button was the Falkland Islands
and his private parts were the Bermuda triangle
and his backside was a priest hole
and his stretchmarks were the tide going out.
The whole system of his blood was Dutch elm disease.
And his legs were depth charges
and his knees were fossils waiting to be tapped open
and his ligaments were rifles wrapped in oilcloth under the floorboards
and his calves were the undercarriages of Shackletons.
The balls of his feet were where meteorites had landed
and his toes were a nest of mice under the lawn mower.
And his footprints were Vietnam
and his promises were hot air balloons floating off over the trees
and his one-liners were footballs through other peoples' windows
and his grin was the Great Wall of China as seen from the moon
and the last time they talked, it was apartheid.

She was a chair, tipped over backwards
with his donkey jacket on her shoulders.

They told him,
and his face was a hole
where the ice had not been thick enough to hold her.

Fonty

I love creating characters in my head. I get a kick from creating the layers of their personalities like onion-skins and occasionally playing them out - or having someone else (usually my boyfriend) play their part. One of my oldest creations is Fonty - a dissolute country landowner with dubious morals and a penchant for port. Fonty, you understand, is part of the hunting, shooting, fishing brigade. He’s a larger than life, thigh-slapping philanderer with a huge stomach and a big country pile. He lives off the land, abuses the peasants and likes nothing better than holding court with his lackies and guffawing whilst telling tall tales of kills and conquests down the local. You get my drift…

Well on Saturday, I met the real life Fonty. There we were quaffing in a gorgeous pub in middle England, when in walks a clutch of the landed gentry, tweeded up and plus 4’d to the knee in shooting gear. True to form they were loud, swilled with alcohol and fresh from the kill. And holding court no less, was the real life manifestation of my character. After about half an hour of loud haw-hawing, backslapping and general falling about – Fonty, AKA Brian, decided to stagger over and try his boozy charms on me – irrespective of whether I was with someone or not…It was hilarious – he had a face like braised beetroot in aspic, a stomach that’d seen too many pork pies and hands that could easily dig a moat. And here I was face to face with Brian, AKA Fonty, up close and way, way too personal!

Wonder if I’ll meet his equally characterful and quirky French wife - Fifi now?!

विल्ड wild

Wild is the wind
Tree bent back
Crack
Catapulting leaves
As if autumn
Is compelled
To strip every tree
Down to the bare
Bark
Before the Grim Reaper
Of winter
Arrives.

You're a hero!

In these days of ‘greed is good’ and the cult of ‘me’, it’s good to see a selfless act of bravery and kindness. I want to give it up for Robert Mansell, a British pilot who died while saving his nine passengers by ditching his plane into the Caribbean sea.

Robert aged 32 from Knowle, West Mids, was flying between the south Caribbean islands of Curacao and Bonaire on Wednesday when he crashed. All nine passengers escaped the sinking plane, but Robert’s body is missing. The tragedy is, he was only five minutes short of the destination when he was forced to ditch the twin-engine plane into the sea.

Right before crashing, he looked back at the passengers to confirm they had their life vests on and did a 'thumbs-up' to indicate that they were going to land. And he kept cool and calm at all moments during the flight.

All the passengers survived, escaping the sinking aircraft, but he was still strapped into his seat as it disappeared into 159m deep waters. One passenger said he tried to unstrap Robert, who was knocked unconscious by the impact of the crash, but was forced to leave him as the aircraft sank.

He worked for Divi Divi Air (strange choice of name) and the crash happened after the right engine of the plane failed, and Capt Mansell made a mayday call before ditching.

Forget overpaid footballers, rock star wannabees and morally challenged politicians, RIP Robert Mansell, you’re a true hero!

Batty bombers!

Following on from my blog on the naked scanners, according to the source of all banter and bitchery, Popbitch, Al-Qaeda suicide bombers are not only keeping their explosives where the sun don’t shine, they're hiding them from the authorities using David Copperfield style illusion tricks. US intelligence authorities are claiming that would-be terrorists are being sent out to learn magic tricks to help them get their bombs through security checks. Hollowed out coins and fake fingertips could, they say, be used to hide smears of plastic explosives. Not to mention the traditional magician's sleight of hand techniques to help the would-be bomber get past staff at security checkpoints.

I did further anal-ysis on the batty bit and found that one suicide bomber had already detonated his bum bomb. (no this is not a euphemism!) Abdullah Hassan Al Aseery was a Saudi Arabian member of Al-Qaeda, named on a Saudi list of most wanted terrorist suspects on February 3 2009. He set up a meeting with the Saudi head of anti-terrorist security, Prince Muhammad bin Nayef bin Abdul Aziz Al-Saud, under the premise of wanting to leave Al-Qaeda and supply vital information about the group to authorities. But really he was packing semtex in his arse and he and his deadly package got through two sets of airport security and 30 hours of questioning. The bomb was detonated by text message when he was standing next to the Prince, but the plan backfired because the Prince was only slightly injured, whereas Al Aseery was totalled! And he must have made an awful mess! On a serious note though, this is spectacularly scary and one very good reason why naked scanners make sense!

Griffler!

Nick Griffin rode into Question Time on his white charger flying the flag for the BNP, the indigenous people of Great Britain and St George. But he slithered out with the standard of his ideology in tatters.

Oh dear poor Nick! I’m sure he didn’t bank on the strength of anti feeling. But rather than redeem himself and his party as I'm sure he'd set out to do, and cast off the dirty rags of the BNP’s anti-semitic, racist past – he was outsmarted by a panel who were by far his intellectual superiors and he just confirmed many decent rational thinking peoples' views that the party’s dirty hate-peddling politics are rotten to the core.

It was flagged up that he’d rubbed shoulders with members of the KKK. In fact, he’d mixed it with former KKK chief and American Nazi Party thug, Stephen "Don" Black at racist conferences in the US. Actually it’s quite amusing that his surname is Black! Anyway, the former KKK Grand Black Wizard happens to be banned from coming to the UK because he was once jailed for trying to invade the Caribbean island of Dominica with mercenaries. But despite Black's criminal past, Griffin was happy to be pictured alongside him and Grand Master Flash, David Duke. When asked about this the party line was: "We shared a platform with these people, but it doesn't mean we share their beliefs. In fact, we were arguing for a sensible nationalism." OK Nick, so on Youtube you were filmed telling the KKK massive about your new strategy of couching racial purity in terms of national identity and taking control of the media to expound your racist views…so how does that amount to ‘sensible nationalism?’



When asked about his previous stance on Holocaust denial, Griffin backtracked and said he didn’t know why he’d adopted that view and in fact transcripts from German radio intercepts had changed his mind – recently…not the weight of evidence from Holocaust survivors – apparently! Nick might feign amnesia about published a booklet in 1997 entitled "Who are the Mind Benders?". It claimed to prove that Jewish people controlled the British media and thereby were able to brainwash white British people into accepting multiculturalism. And between 1995 and 1997, Nick Griffin edited 'The Rune'. Griffin referred to the Holocaust as a "Holohoax". In 1998, he said, "I am well aware that the orthodox opinion is that 6 million Jews were gassed and cremated and turned into lampshades. Orthodox opinion also once held that the Earth was flat...(he loves that analogy), I have reached the conclusion that the "extermination" tale is a mixture of Allied wartime propaganda, extremely profitable lie, and latter witch-hysteria."

www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7Dygboz4Ew

Nick also disagrees with sex education in primary schools and shows of gay affection in public. In 1999, he wrote an article for Spearhead after the Admiral Duncan pub bombing. He said, "The TV footage of dozens of gay demonstrators flaunting their perversions in front of the world's journalists showed just why so many ordinary people find these creatures so repulsive."

Perhaps the finest moment was when a British Asian man was clapped when he accused Griffin of wanting to hound him out of Britain. "You'd be surprised how many people would have a whip-round to buy you a ticket and your supporters to go to the South Pole. It is a colourless landscape that will suit you fine."

Enough said!

Stand by yo man!

I can’t believe that in the light of revelations of Dr Abortion (Edward Erin) – his wife, Lowri Erin, is standing by him and even went as far as to say they love each other. So the fact that he had three previous mistresses and probably more and the indignity of having the lurid details of his infidelities read out in court hasn’t dimmed her ‘love’ for him. Plus he didn’t even tell his closest colleagues that he was married surely says that lurve wasn’t an emotion Dr Erin was feeling. Lust maybe…a need to massage his inflated ego – definitely!

Oh and when the guilty verdict was read out, Bella Prowse (the girlfriend) broke down and sobbed, whereas Erin showed no emotion whatsoever. That says it all…She (Lowri) has to be slightly deranged to even consider loving a man capable of spiking his girlfriend’s tea with abortion drugs. Her stoic standing by him almost smacks of concurrence.

Ah but possibly-maybe the reason she still has a warped kind of love for him is the fact she gave up a promising career to have children and has lost her identity and self respect. Or the fact they have shared business interests — they own up to 30 buy-to-let houses — and shared a flat in Kensington, west London...Guess that must be the reason, especially if he's the major shareholder.

I thought love was a pure emotion based on trust and mutual respect, not tainted by commercial interests, but maybe I’m just a romantic. Either way, Erin is going down probably for life and has been struck off – never to practice medicine again, and whilst he’s doing time she can start to rebuild her life…so why the hell doesn’t she walk away with her head held high and at least retain a modicum of self respect?

Monkey business!

Thought this was rather funny. Michael Jackson left his pet chimpanzee £1m to ensure his long-term future, but Bubbles still hasn’t got his hairy simian hands on the readies.

Jackson adopted the chimp in 1985 but later gave him to animal trainer Bob Dunne after struggling to care for him. Dunne claims Jackson left Bubbles the money. "Michael will turn in his grave if Bubbles' future is not financially secure," he claims. "We've heard nothing. I'm not sure we will either. He's [Bubbles] frozen out.”

He may have been “frozen out”, but like many a celeb down on his luck, he’s selling his story to make a buck or two. Bubbles: My Secret Diary, From Swaziland to Neverland is a collection of very personal and honest entries from Bubbles' diary giving readers the whole story of the chimp's life from an "awful childhood" in a research clinic, and "adopted a struggling young singer". It takes a leaf out of arch rival and Tarzan star, Cheeta’s book – Me Cheeta!

The memoirs will look at the seedier side of Bubbles' career, including his $2,000-a-day banana addiction, depression, romantic conquests, and includes how Bubbles dealt with the recent death of the King of Pop.

Apparently Bubbles is now 26-years-old and living in the animal sanctuary where he was taken in 2003 after becoming too aggressive to live alongside Jackson's baby son Prince Michael II. He lived at Jackson's Neverland ranch and sat in on recordings for the Bad album, even travelling to Japan with the singer on tour. He was not invited to Jackson's funeral over fears he would be too violent. Poor Bubbles - he should take legal action for mental cruelty caused by come down in lifestyle.

The book’s out sometime this month! Top banana!

Scallop

In a reflective mood and woke up this morning to hear an interview with artist Maggi Hambling on Aldeburgh beach against a backdrop of crashing waves. Incredibly, she rises at the crack of dawn every morning to go to the beach and paint the ever changing seascape. How wonderful would that be! I was intrigued by her beach sculpture 'Scallop' and amazed that it's such a cause of controversy. How could something so beautiful possibly be offensive?

She has an exhibition with CS Lowry, who towards the end of his life used the sea as subject matter for his paintings. I find Lowry's matchstick men, cats and dogs a touch twee. But his sea paintings are full of passion and forboding with a deep, dark flat sea - and bold, broad brush strokes similar to Munch – in complete contrast to Maggi's tumbling, crashing wavescapes. I got to thinking that it must be wonderful to live by the sea - swimming in its seductive calmness in the summer and in total awe of its power in winter. We so need people like Maggi to remind us of nature's spectacular beauty.

The naked truth

Just when you thought Cameronomics would dominate the press, there's a whole big hoo-ha about naked scanners being launched at Manchester airport. I'm turning the other cheek, because I think they make great sense if they cut queues and the need to be frisked by big butch security staff ( surely this is a far worse intrusive on privacy? ). But there are lots of objectors saying, "how very dare you!"

Well how very Victorian that people would object to it! Especially as it ups the security ante so that terrorists/ smugglers won't be able to tape anything to their bare bodies. The upshot being we can all sit comfortably reading our in-flight mags knowing we're not going to be blown up by semtex or hydrogen peroxide strapped to someone's scrotum.

Not surprisingly, islamonline.net is up in arms because of an infringement of their human rights. Get real people, why should we have one rule for muslims and another for non-muslims when we're all on one plane together and the extra security benefits everyone regardless of their meat and two veg or whether they dress to the left or right!

Would the real David Cameron please stand up!

On my soapbox again, I'm afraid, as the Conservative's reveal their manifesto. And I've unearthed the fact that 'Call Me Dave' Cameron has true blue blood. Here he is next to his ancestor, King William IV – also known as ‘Silly Billy’ – who twice tried unsuccessfully to force a Tory government on the country, in 1832 and again in 1834/35.

Dave can pretend to be Mr Ordinary all he likes, but there’s no getting away from it, he’s a toff in the traditional sense of the term because of his privileged background. Trying to shrug off the image is pointless. It’s precisely because Cameron, Osborne and many other Tories have this privileged, upper-class experience of life – and an obvious vested interest in preserving it – that their claim to have the welfare of Joe Public at heart is so unconvincing.

Why would the Tories be so sensitive about the ‘toff’ thing if they weren’t desperately embarrassed about it in electoral terms? They know it will lose them the votes of those who just can’t identify with their upper-class values, so they – and Dave – are trying to kid us that he’s one of us really. That – in their own words – they’re not the ‘nasty party’ any more. Trying to kid us that what Conservatives are interested in is mending our ‘broken society’. Right…

They will desperately want us to forget – of course – that it was the many years of Tory government and sleaze in the 1970s, 80s and 90s, which promoted the philosophy of greed and fat profits at the expense of ordinary working people. This allowed and encouraged the rise of fat-cat bankers and financial chancers who have finally wrecked our economy and made many thousands unemployed.

The Tories are wholly responsible for widening the vast gap between the rich and the rest of us, laying the foundations for today’s society where young people can’t afford to buy a home any more and where there is nowhere near enough social housing to meet the needs of ordinary British citizens. And yet they now have the gall to blame the Labour government for all this.

Granted, Labour were stupid enough to get sucked in by pandering to the greedy, just to get elected in 1997 and to stay in office, but they weren’t responsible for the philosophy that created these conditions. It still tries vainly to ’square the circle’ of creating social equality while placating the better-off middle classes who are only interested in tax cuts and big bonuses at the expense of the rest of us. But that’s another issue.

The reality of a Tory government is one where the rich and privileged look after their own.
 If they manage to fool enough of us to get elected to office, then we’ll see them revert to type: serving the interests of the rich and powerful, of the big businesses and of their fat-cat political sponsors, while paying lip service to helping ordinary working people.

Consider the way Cameron’s fellow Eton toff, Boris Johnson, is now handing out planning permissions left right and centre to a host of faulty towers in London that won’t do anything to improve the lives of Londoners and which will vulgarise the London skyline. And he was the one to pillory Ken for it! 
(Oooh wonder if any of his supporters, sponsors and cronies are involved in property development? We probably know the answer to that one…)

Boris has total contempt for the democratic process and treats the Mayor’s question time meeting like a public school debating society. He waffles and blunders his way through it all, while those he no doubt sees as his social inferiors try to pin him down on anything without success. It’s all a great joke to him, but a frustrating and sickening sight and a good indication of how his privileged kind behave towards the rest of us. Today’s interview with Paxman on the BBC website also highlight his arrogance and inability to answer questions.

It’s an unfortunate fact of life that people have short memories and there are many people of voting age now who have only ever seen this newly-concocted, almost vomit-inducing Tory sincerity, so they know no better. Everyone over the age of 35 knows the truth about Tory fat-cat priorities, their contempt for workers, trades unions and the millions of ordinary people like us who serve only to line the pockets of them and their cronies.

Once a toff, always a toff – and forever a fat-cat Tory – however they dress themselves up or use a nice green tree as a party logo. For god's sake don't be taken in by them or you'll lose tax credits, quality of life and so much more!

What's the Tory morning glory!

Let the slanging match begin! Just when the tory-lites thought they’d dealt a heavy blow to Labour by getting the might of murky Murdoch, his grubby little paper and the page 3 stunna to announce ‘Labour’s Lost It’, along came the Irish vote on the Lisbon Treaty – and more – to bite them on the bum!

This week sees the Tory’s annual conference in Manchester. And dodgy Dave’s invited two far right eurosceptic allies along. Michal Kaminski is the Polish rightwing leader of the Conservatives’ new caucus in the Euro parliament. It seems old Kammy has an anti-Semitic, neo-nazi past. Ally number two is Roberts Zile, (rhymes with vile) leader of Latvia’s right wing For Fatherland and Freedom Party. There’s a clue in the title. Und jah, every year zey don jackboots to celebrate ze Latvian Waffen SS with a march past of SS veterans. A fact confirmed by Ephraim Zuroff director of the Simon Wiesenthal Centre, which tracks down Nazi War criminals.

Maybe ‘Dave Mr Ordinary Nice Guy’ is not so fragrant after all. He expelled Edward McMillan Scott – veteran Yorkshire Tory MEP from the party for raising questions about his new best friends’ right wing extremism and antisemitism. And by courting their friendship, he’s earned the enmity of heavyweight euro figures – most notable Angela Merkel. Not a smart move! Oh and let’s not forget Dave’s schtum stance on his membership of the infamous Bullingdon Club – a misogynistic Oxford club of raucous rituals for yobbish toffs AND his denial that he’s worth £30m. Does that add up to a leader you’d trust to run the country? I think not! To Joe Public, it may seem that politicians are all the same on the surface, but look deeper into the company they keep and they’re clearly not.

Inspiration!

Fuzzy wuzzy but still looking for great ad ideas. These hit the sweet spot!

Fish Tank

Was rocked to the core by the kick-ass brilliance of Andrea Arnold’s latest film. It’s a warts and all showcase of life in an Essex sink estate and the incredible sense of nihilism – born out by the main character’s ‘fuck you, fuck everything’ attitude. But although through a glass darkly, there are moments of light comic relief!

Katie Jarvis’ gutsy performance as Mia – a feral teen with serious attitude, but genuine vulnerability grabs you like a rottweiler’s teeth around the throat. Equally captivating are Rebecca Griffiths as smoking, snitching, swearing little ‘sista’, Tyler and Tennent’s, the dumb pit bull terrier.

Probably the best scene, straight out of Phoenix nights complete with costa del sunbed club owners, is Mia’s dance audition. Hastily aborted when she clocks that all the other ‘turns’ have false boobs, bleach blonde extensions and come fuck me shoes, whereas she’s strictly street dance with pram face high pony, trackie bottoms and trainers. Class, class, class!

Michael Fassbender’s portrayal as Connor is akin to Brad Pitt’s J.D in Thelma and Louise. His good looks, easy Irish charm, buff body and willingness to play dad put both Mia and her mum in a spin. At first, he seems like the only likeable character of the piece. But he’s not all he seems – leading a double life on a middle class estate but looking for a bit on the side, which he finds in Mia’s mum – a vulnerable dipso, disco, dysfunctional bitch of a mother. Then turns his ‘affections’ on Mia to disastrous effect. After a walk on the wild side, he retreats back to the safety of his middle class existence. Big mistake! As the characters unravel, Arnold shows a real insight into the fragility of teen spirit, the power of sexual attraction and the flaws in human nature.

Like Red Road, set on a grim Glaswegian housing estate, Fish Tank is a gritty take on social realism, which grabs you by the balls and then some. In three words; fucking bastard brilliant!

Baroness of the bedroom!

Have just listening with great interest and amusement to Baroness Shirley of Crosby PC Williams speaking to Jenny Murray on Radio 4. What a wise and interesting lady! Originally a Labour MP and cabinet minister and one of the "Gang of Four" rebels who founded the SDP in 1981, she's published an autobiography 'Climbing the Bookshelves' which sounds like a rollicking good read!

She talked about her appointment as an authority on porn. This involved the bedtime reading and research of hundreds of seedy porno mags with as she describes, "women with huge breasts laid out like hunks on meat in strips of underwear". Unsurprisingly, she reached the conclusion that men who regularly indulge are incapable of real relationships based on real love, commitment and understanding. She concluded that many share a common lack of respect for women and in many cases actually despise them. Unfortunately, when you look at the proliferation of online porn and no strings attached 'dating' sites, it's an easy conclusion to reach. Doesn't bode well for the longevity of relationships though, does it!

Cream for Lou

Don’t be giving me none of that
Low fat skinny milk love
Thin watery words
Without any taste or substance

Don’t be short-measuring me
With meagre portions of flattery
Measured out in tiny spoonfuls
of booze-addled affection

Don’t be trying to seduce me
With your alpha male magnetism
And steamy promises that evaporate
Into never never ever land

Don’t draw me on Fridays
Or call me or vex text me
Only creamy dollops of high cholesterol lurve
And full-fat fornication will do

Inspired by skinny love - hope you like it sweetness x

The power of protest!

Autumn's here

Now is the time of the spider
The garden a labyrinth of filigree webs
Glistening with vivid pearls of dew
Threads thrown wide from hedge to house

A tiny spider small as a bead, ensnared a bee
Three timed its size
Pulsing excitedly from a distance
Waiting for the bee to still

Then lightening fast
Bound the bee in a silky cocoon
Until it beat and buzzed no more
Wrapped in a duvet of death

Play with fire...

Get burnt! As married crusader of family values, Republican Mike Duvall found out when his explicit remarks about sexual conquests were broadcast over an open microphone. He talks in graphic detail about two women he slept with, at least one of whom appeared to be a lobbyist with business before the utilities committee on which he sat as vice chairman. Needless to say, he’s gone the way of Paddy ‘Pantsdown’, Mark Oaten and more recently Nigel Griffiths this side of the pond.

We love a good scandal and the press go into a feeding frenzy if they get the slightest whiff of sleaze. No surprise then that LA’s KTAL TV went in for the kill.

My advice, look to Shakespeare and learn Mike. In Measure for Measure, Will tackles the themes of mercy, justice, and truth, and their relationship to pride and humility: "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall". The villain of the piece, like Mike, is a hypocrite who’s overly zealous about upholding the law, yet has a sexual weakness for nuns! When it comes to the relationship between sex and the abuse of power, Shakespeare had it tabbed!

The moral of the story: don’t set yourself up as a paragon of virtue if you’re caught spit-roasting two chicks, neither of which is your wife!

Killer heel killjoys!

Banning vertiginous shoes in the workplace could prove to be an achilles heel for the TUC. Have they factored in that women actually enjoy wearing high heels, despite ‘seven times as much pressure being exerted the ball of a foot with every step taken’. And have they considered that the vertically challenged like Nadine Dorries MP at 5’ 3’’ and me at 5’ 4’’ actually need high heels to look people in the eye. And yes, height does matter in a male dominated workplace!

Anyway what exactly is ‘inappropriate footwear’? Will we have a ‘heelometer’ with flatties, kittens, stilettos, and platforms and killers at the top? Where will all this fashionism all end? First the shoes then the skirts…don’t tell me tight skirts are a heart attack hazard for bankers with huge bonuses?

Take a hike TUC and kick up a fuss about more pressing issues like unequal pay in the workplace…or sexual harassment issues…or overly long working hours…or better working hours for parents!

He's the greatest dancer!

RIP Patrick Swayze - star of Dirty Dancing, who captured the essence of alpha male sexuality! Sadly brought down by pancreatic cancer - the silent killer. But he battled hard to fight it, writing a piece in the Washington Post titled, "I'm Battling Cancer. How About Some Help, Congress?" in which he urged senators and representatives to vote for the maximum funding for the National Institutes of Health to fight cancer as part of the economic stimulus package. He also appeared in the September 2008 live television event "Stand Up to Cancer," where he pleaded: "I keep dreaming of a future, a future with a long and healthy life, a life not lived in the shadow of cancer, but in the light. ... I dream that the word `cure' will no longer be followed by the words `is impossible.'" Patrick you shone so bright and were a demon on the dancefloor!

Greed is good?

How is it that against a backdrop of global recession, while ordinary mortals live in fear for their jobs, pay for top execs rises by over 3X the average in the private sector? And why, when their companies lost around a third of their value amid a monumental decline in the FTSE? It’s even more galling that the big rise in directors' basic pay – more than double the rate of inflation last year – came as many of their companies were stamping pay freezes on staff and starting huge redundancy programmes to slash costs.

The Institute of Directors has called for spending cuts that would hit pensioners, the poor and low-paid public sector staff. Yet the average chief executive of a blue-chip company now earns a basic salary of £791,000. And they get bonus payments, share awards and the value of perks ranging from cars and drivers to school fees and dental work – all on top.
Surely it begs the question – “what kind of society do we live in?”

In the words of Brendan Barber, general Secretary of the TUC: “We've already had the 1980s-style recession, it looks depressingly like we are going back to 1980s greed-is-good politics, too." And yet it was exactly this Gordon Gecko ‘greed is good’ mentality that sent Wall Street tumbling. Have we not learnt the lessons of the past? Do we want to send an inverse Robin Hood message to our children that’s it’s OK to rob the poor to line the coffers of the rich?

Housework sucks!

“ Don't cook. Don't clean. No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum – My God, the floor's immaculate. Lie down, you hot bitch." So said the walking corpse cosmetic surgery queen, Joan Rivers!



1.Work like a demon and go out like a diva. In fact, spend as little time in the house as possible then you won’t actually notice that it needs cleaning.

2. My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.

3. There may be dust in my house but there isn't any on me!

4. Housework is something you do that nobody notices until you don't do it.
And kids mess it up in the blink of an eye anyway.

5.We’re all gonna wind up as dust – so just live with it.

6. Chore rhymes with bore – enough said!

7. Get someone else to do it…blackmail the kids (works every time –
though you won’t get a quality job unless you stand over them).

8. Get a cleaner if you can find one that doesn’t spend time on your phone,
trying on your clothes, spritzing your perfume or having fag breaks every 20 mins!

9. Don’t invite people round then you won’t so feel bad about being a failed domestic goddess.

10. Put out a fatwah on Anthea Turner for that god-awful programme
The Perfect Housewife! Yeah right, like anyone really believes she does it all herself!

An unsatisfactory place to stay!

My lovely top 10 dictators

1.Kim Jong-il, one of the communist state's "Great Leaders"
Lil’ Kim has super-expensive tastes, loves a bit of ting tong and is doing wonders for the seafood industry:
• 17 palaces and collections of hundreds of cars
• 20,000 video tapes.
• Live lobsters airlifted daily to his armoured private train
• $650,000 spent a year on Hennessy VSOP cognac
• Pleasure Brigade - his entourage of young lovelies


2. Ferdinand Marcos, President of the Philippines, 1965 - 1986
Ferd was a bit of a kleptocrat who stashed the cash by the billions in overseas accounts. But wifey Imelda was even more illustrious. One helluva big spender, she had a severe addiction to Manolos:
• 1060 pairs of shoes
• 888 handbags
• $51 million Crown Building
• $61 million Herald Centre in New York
• Art by Michelangelo and Botticelli


3. Nicolae Ceausescu, President of Romania, 1967 – 1989
A big fan of social housing, Nic had tens of thousands of homes demolished to make space for his 1,100-room, 480-chandelier Palace in Bucharest. Congratulated by Salvador Dali on his excesses – how surreal!
• Used a kingly sceptre.
• Owned 15 palaces,
• Had a superb car collection, yachts, fine art and bespoke suits


4. Saparmurat Niyazov, President of Turkmenistan, 1990 - 2006
Ah Saps – AKA goldfinger! Arch narcissist and champion of Gillette. His made a £6 million revolving gold-plated statue of himself in the country's capital, Ashgabat and banned beards!
• Shifted £3 billion to overseas accounts,
• Renamed the month of January (after himself)

5. Idi Amin, President of Uganda, 1971 - 1979
The "Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea", "Emperor of Uganda" and "King of Scotland" awarded himself the VC, or Victorious Cross, and CBE, or Conqueror of the British Empire. Idi da da made a close friend of insanity and kept severed heads well beyond their sell-by date in his fridge. Least likely to say “pass me a condom!”
• Spent millions on a super-lavish lifestyle
• 30 mistresses
• 5 wives
• 43 children
• Personal bodyguard of bagpipe-playing 6ft 4in Scotsmen


6. Joseph Stalin, leader of the Soviet Union, 1922 – 1953
The "Gardener of Human Happiness" and "Brilliant Genius of Humanity" and a big supporter of Self Love courses celebrated himself with thousands of stylised statues and monuments erected across the Soviet Union. Put the 'me' into communism. Joe baby also had a taste for:
• Palaces, booze and cigars
• Travelling by armour-plated private train with a Tsarist-style entourage


7. Mohammed Reza Pahlavi, Shah of Persia, 1941 - 1979
Lovely generous Mo the Show - The "King of Kings" spent a reported $100 million on celebrations for the 2,500th anniversary of the Persian monarchy, serving breast of peacock on Limoges china to dignitaries in a 160-acre tent city at Persepolis - close to poor villages. Nice!
• Owned a fleet sports cars plus custom models made by Mercedes-Benz and Porsche for his son, the Crown Prince



8. Saddam Hussein, President of Iraq, 1979 - 2003
Old Saddam was ‘hanging’ and loved a bit of bling. He had fondness for gold-plated bathroom fittings, and Kalashnikovs. He rebuilt Babylon on kitsch rather than authentic lines, stamping each brick of the "reconstruction" with his own name in the manner of Nubachadnezzar. Playboy Son Uday, kept a private zoo with lions and cheetahs at his Baghdad residence and owned a collection of 1,200 luxury cars. Had a predisposition to bumping off relatives – by throwing them to the lions! Suppose you could call it recycling!



9. Mobutu Sese Soku, President of Zaire, 1965 – 1997
Siphoning his country's wealth into Swiss bank accounts to spend on palaces and pink champagne was old Mobu’s speciality.
His personal fortune was estimated at $5 billion in 1984 - then equivalent to Zaire's national debt. Second wife, Bobi Ladawa modelled herself on Imelda with a 1,000-dress wardrobe.
• Owned palaces and yachts
• Made shopping trips to Paris by chartered Concorde.


10. Suharto, President of Indonesia, 1967 – 1998
The former bank clerk ( no surprise there) embezzled more money than any other leader in history, according to Transparency International. In 1999, Time Asia put his family's wealth at $15 billion. Playboy son "Tommy" was the biggest-profile spender - lavishing money on cars and clothes and buying a majority stake in Lamborghini before a conviction for murder in 2002. Suharto's daughter "Tutut", meanwhile, spent $100,000 on one shopping flight to the US. Ah bless – guess she was misunderstood!

Three Card Tarot

Situation As It Is

Ten of Cups

Briefly: This card symbolises great happiness and contentment.

Full Meaning: This card shows a cup, held in a man’s hand, and joined by a woman’s hand, as they appear to be about to sip together from the liquid in the cup, as if sharing in a celebration of some wonderful event. There is a rainbow in the background and several tall, green trees, some shrubs, beside a river and with mountains in the far distance. The sky is blue and the day looks warm as in Springtime. There are 9 cups across the sky in front of the rainbow. This card symbolises great happiness and contentment. Two people are brought together in unison and peace to share a special time in their lives. A joint project has obviously reached fruition and they are proud of their achievements and wish to celebrate in grand style. If you draw this card you may rest assured, that even though it took a long time to get where you are, it has all been worth the effort and the energy expended. You can relax in your new found comfort zone and pursue your other objectives with peace of mind, knowing that your life is now more secure than it has ever been.


Course of Action to be Taken

The High Priestess

Briefly: Mystical studies may also appeal to you at this time, and you could take up the study of subjects such as astrology, tarot or other esoteric knowledge. Incredible gifts await for you. All you have to do is acknowledge that within lies all knowledge. This is a card of wisdom and intelligence.

Full Meaning: This powerful major arcana has incredible gifts for you. All you have to do is acknowledge that within lies all knowledge. This is a card of wisdom and intelligence. It is also an indication of mystical effects and understanding.
This woman can achieve anything she wants. She is studious and persevering. She is enchanting, deep, mysterious and has a unique talent for understanding people and their motives. She is psychic and gifted in many areas of natural law. She knows when to make decisions, when to act and set plans in motion and how to be in complete control of her own destiny. She is a leader, not a follower. She has charm, grace and poise. She is gifted with extra-ordinary understanding, compassion and has humanitarian instincts. She has high ideals and aspires to achieve her planned goals. She is an excellent communicator and listener. She knows when to be quiet. She understands the correct timing on when to plant seeds that will ultimately prosper. She is particularly cool, calm and collected. She is logical and rational and fair. She has a strong sense of justice. The initials B and J may be, or prove to be important in your life. These can represent the initials of people, places and businesses. They are signposts to people and places which will become of profound significance to you.

You could be considering doing some type of studies when you draw this card. Other than that, a teacher, possibly female, may come into your life and have an enormous impact on you. She could teach you valuable lessons that you need to learn.
Should you be considering becoming a teacher yourself, this would be a good indicator that you are on the right track and will achieve success in your chosen field. Mystical studies may also appeal to you at this time, and you could take up the study of subjects such as astrology, tarot or other esoteric knowledge.


New Situation that Will Evolve

Seven of Swords

Briefly: A home move.

Full Meaning: Quite often this card signifies a home move. There is a restlessness that gives the feeling of wanting to move on. If it is not a house move, it could be a new relationship, or one that is a significant relationship, such as your first one, or it has been a long time between relationships, or one that proves important in the long run, such as one leading to marriage. However a small word of caution, find out all you can about this new person, for there could be something secretive about him/her. This can also mean a significant happening or event at night, having to rush off somewhere, to someone's aid perhaps, someone in hospital and/or a time to make quick decisions and act in a hurry, or alternatively you may act in haste during the night. This card has also been known to indicate a robbery. It could be a thief in your home, or any other place where you keep valuables, such as a car or an office. Overall, your life now has the potential to alter in some significant way. You could cut ties with your past, your family or friends and go off on your own path. These changes may be irrevocable and can close the door on your old life to make way for a total transition into a new way of living. Just be sure this is exactly what you want to do. You need to be firm and strong in your decision making now and in the near future.

Thunder Thighs!

Amazingly, there's now a correlation between slim pins and heart disease. A Danish study has established a link between premature death in men and women whose thighs are less than 60cm in circumference. Research published in the British Medical Journal (BMJ) by Professor Berit Heitmann of Copenhagen university hospital involved almost 3,000 men and women.

Think my thighs probably register on the cardiac arrest risk scale and I'm all for being healthy, but sorry I'm not about to hit the burgers and chips to beef up my thighs. Not that I'd wear teensy weensy shorts like Britney, but thunder thighs are just so damn ugly.

The Black Keys

The power of spotify!

The Black Keys – Same Old Thing: http://open.spotify.com/track/4NtAYaFYtwLH4KPjX9ON6fThe Black Keys – Have Love Will Travel: http://open.spotify.com/track/148m5TJHSIlJZiXPe1dufaThe Black Keys – Have Love Will Travel:

Turette’s guide to not-so-great Britain

(best read with a Lancashire accent in your head)

Fucking bank holiday Bastard weather
Fucking queues on the M6, M1, M18
Fucking queues at Asda
Fucking BOGOFs
Fucking bored ASBO kids
Fucking overpriced meals out
Fucking overrated meals in
Fucking overpaid footballers
Fucking dogshitty fields
Fucking crappo telly
Fucking drunken yobs
Fucking fat fuckers
Fucking great!

I Am The Lady in Red

I am the lady in red
Words curl around my head
Vermillion, crimson and scarlett am I
The colour of life, the colour of death
The colour of blood

Strawberry sweet, succulent and cherry fed
On a hospital bed legs spread
Glistening and ruby jewelled
Sliced, splayed pomegranite
Too much unspoken, left unsaid

She is Puck

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding, but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearnéd luck,
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long:
Else the Puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

Explosive!

The icy teutonic cruelty of Hans Landa, the glamour and glory of Bridget Von, the determined chutzpah of Shoshanna, the insouciant swagger of Aldo.... Quentin baby - you've just blown me away and I just love Catpeople!


Putting out the fire with gasoline

See these eyes so blue
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
It's been so long
And I've been putting out fire
With gasoline

Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name
Well, you been so long

See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds
It's been so long

Still this pulsing night
A plague I call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
Ya wouldn't believe what I've been thru
You've been so long
Well it's been so long
And I've been putting out fire
with gasoline
putting out fire
with gasoline

See these tears so blue
An ageless heart
that can never mend
These tears can never dry
A judgement made
can never bend
See these eyes so blue
I can stare for a thousand years
Just be still with me
You wouldn't believe what I've been thru

You've been so long
Well, it's been so long
And I've been putting out fire
with gasoline
putting out fire with gasoline

The Hurt Locker

Hurt was banged away for being far too troublesome
And the door to the Locker was turned firm
It sat in the dark and wondered a while
Then it screamed and kicked against hard reinforced metal
“Let me out! Let me out!” It yelled and thrashed
And it hollered and screeched some more
In what seemed an eternity of isolated frenzied panic
Until it was bleeding red, bruised blue and all burnt out
The Locker was dank and fetid with sweat
Hurt quivered in pain, broken in that Locker
While outside the Voice breathed slowly
And listened deep in the dark.

loving lisbon

Knew that photo of the question marks would come in useful and be deep and meaningful.

Elvis Lives

Ah ha-ha...Ah ha-ha...Elvis is alive and well and looking over my shoulder! The spookiness of Nailcote Hall and its entertainers.

Sin Nombre

A film of immense standing with a strong plotline and insight into gang culture - darkly mesmeric in its realism. A must-see for lovers of latin american cinema.

http://thecitylovesyou.com/cinerex/?p=1469

Doggone!

The pug inappropriately named Dylan is leaving today and we'll all so miss him! He should be called Ming - a far more dignified name for a dog of his standing. Anyway he charmed us with his big buggy eyes and his squashed good looks and we all fell in love with him. Please get one Lou!

Wowza!

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined I'd meet the amazing Mariza - fadista extraordinaire - in a club in Lisbon. But I did - and she sang for me too. Thank you so much lovely lady and may more people experience the seismic power of your voice. x

Frocks and shocks

Fifes and Louella
Alice, Lee, Dave 
Lee, Dave, Fifes, Ali

You can't beat a damn good party for a bit of social bonding and feel-good cameraderie- What! I also love that most of my super-fantastic friends just adore the frolicking fun of dressing up. I only wish I could have 'papped' more people into the early hours, but you know how it is at parties - you get caught up in the social whirl of it all and leave the camera to chance! 

Well a totally fabuloso time was had by all and how brilliant that the birthday boy had absolutely no idea. 

In true celeb style, thanks and praise have to be given....so a big pat on the back to fussy Trussy for the use of his marvellous 'crib' and for organising those football boyz to keep 'stumm' and turn up on time - no mean feat indeed! Louella for her loveliness and helping hands - and to my glorious gal pals for all their lifting/carrying/cooking etc. Outfit of the evening has to go to Big Dave for coming(sic) as Hans the fetish queen! Most inebriated of the evening to Lord Tunney who was carried off the premises like a true blue Tory peer. Alice for looking (as always) impeccable in a haughty forties sort of way! Most imaginative of the evening to lushious Lee for his freakish take on the Joker. And total 'dressing up diva to 'you know who' for four changes of clothes - four!!! I don't think even Posh could carry that one off - god you are such an outfit whore.

Fifi Fandango ( social butterfly, celeb party blogger and queen of 

media and mayhem )