27 September - Rock n' Roll & Eno

tbc - sorry for all the singposted entries for past week, yet to be filled in, but if I don't jog my declining memory this way, I may miss out on telling you some oh so interesting titbit. Ok, irony there, it's interesting to me only, I know that very well, but allow me some small delusional moments.

Theatre interval of pretty good Tom Stoppard play. Toph spots the luminous head of Brian Eno and points him out and wonders if he'll recognise me having given me the tiny honour of featuring me in an entry in his 'A Year With Swollen Appendices' diary (I didn't actually make to the index so don't bother). He saw me, he smiled. It's been ten years since our fleeting meetings and why am I so beaming at being recognised? I mean, he's a genius but I like a full head of hair on blokes ususally non? Anyway, Toph mightily impressed to have the girlfriend 'checked' by music royalty. I'd preferred if it'd been David Bowie but so be it.

I'm now wondering how to get this blog to Brian Eno. So that he should wonder who the hell Lisa is. He won't remember names. I also wonder if he, being always fast on the uptake of new media, has a blog instead of the old fashioned notebooks that gave birth to his lovely diary/book 'A year with swollen appendices'. I also wonder if Bono has a blog. Would love to read it. Maybe there he writes things like 'So sick of having to be this ambassador of goodwill, so sick of the rumours about me and Andrea Corr. Frankly, given all my options, I'd try and pull someone who doesn't look like a younger version of my wife don't you think?' and so on....

24 - September - Literary Party & New Stars

tbc

she's got a large offer on the table for her debut novel... but like all girls she's really upset that the lover of 3 months is never calling. We're doomed. Thought the next generation was a little more immune to boys looming so large in our lives, but no, they make the good or bad weather irrespective of personal pinnacles and achievements in other areas. Hope advance goes up to £100k and that maybe, just maybe, will chase away his memory.

The Mir launch.

tbc

26 September - Brighton Rocks & Asda

tbc

Precious? Moi? Here's a story to dispel this little myth. I ate Asda bought sandwiches on the beach in Brighton because we couldn't find a restaurant that suited us both. Impromptu trip. The boy stripped down to underpants as he'd forgotten to bring his beach shorts. The underpants were white and not designer waistband logoed. We drank only tea as he was cleaning up from too much previous boozing. We played the penny machines on the Pier and the video poker ones and even a few rounds of pub quiz Who Wants to be A Millionaire and together we could ... win £20, alone we wouldn't. We ate fish and chips watching the sunset over the crumbling West Pier We sang along to The Killers's first album in the car. We're not cool as we don't have the new one and only finally bought this one because it was down to a fiver in the HMV sale. We decided that the similarly bought for a fiver Ocean Rain by the Bunnymen was better and Mac is right to claim that Killing Moon is a classic. I gained brownie points by saying I was in the audience at Crystal Day in Liverpool all those years ago when the added bonus tracks were recorded. The boy was still practicing his gelled Mac quiff in his bedroom back then.
I don't know that Jemima and Hugh would ever have a day like this....

more to be added

23 September - Gala & Poker

In which the lesson is: don't be afraid to look like a fool and if you've sat down at the wrong table at the casino (well, I was in a daze, though it was only 7.30pm), and a poker table at a casino looks not dissimilar from the blackjack one until you, er... realise some of the symbols on the baize are alien to you... stay at the wrong table, watch a few rounds, try it out and ... win £330 thanks no doubt to classic beginners luck. Then further learn the lesson that you'll spend the rest of the night rueing the fact that on the previous round you had £20 down and could have got that straight flash to pay £660, and you'd also removed the chip from the bonus symbol that would have paid extra money, £40 I think. So yeah, humans, are we ever happy?
Further lesson is that lieing about where you were may not be a good idea when you eventually meet your lover at 11pm. You sounded shifty when you didn't want to say where you'd been for 3 hours and when the £350 tumbled out of your purse in crispy £50 notes (ok I won at the roulette machine as well), what's he to think? Hotel visit? Come to think of it, maybe that's no bad thing, if he realises your time is valuable. Shame, as I already said, that it wasn't £700 so you could really say 'I'm worth it'.

20 September - Sly & the Misses

How exciting, not! The (unknown to the general public so far) girlfriend of J in Rome was the assistant to Sylvester Stallone’s wife recently as he was a judge in the televised, big event Miss Italy contest. You give them a pot of money they’ll do anything. You can probably get Bill Clinton on some Saturday night TV show there. Just show them the money.
Well, I have no gossip on Sly yet, am sure she will tell me some juicy bits later. In the meantime, I go look at the website to check the winner as had said to J, ‘They’ don’t mind having blond girls in the competition but the winner is always dark haired’ Don’t ask me why I know these things. I keep up with world culture/mores me! And I was right. So here’s the - dark haired - winning girl and the main thing about her is that shock horror, no one with short hair has won in the last twenty years! Wow!! Front page news! How subversive this idea that the feminine beauty icon can be boyish in her hairstyle. What can we read in all of this? That she prefers not to spend so much money on shampoos and conditioners? Anyway, on the left hand side of Miss Italy website, with all its postage stamp beauties, there is a list of 25 other Misses, all sponsored by some brand, so we have 'Miss elegance', 'Miss nail varnish X', 'Miss swimming costume Y' and so on. So it seems that the culture of everyone is a winner has spread to Europe too. It must have been an interminable TV programme with all these women getting up to claim their prize. And does the fact you have so many winners, make the remaining, by now so few losers, feel truly awful?

As I navigate away to other websites, it would appear though that Italy this year has given a resounding rejection to reality TV progs and especially the sub-sub-sub celebrity ones. Who’d have thought? And this was a country where what happened in the Big Brother house was probably a little more risqué than the UK I’d imagine. Actually it’s possible that after they saw them eating brains for breakfast and f cking each other’s brains at night, there was nowhere else to go? Live BB torture? So there you have it. As the UK dumbs down, Italy, the previous butt of jokes about bad TV with sexy chicks etc has wised up and rejected the moronic inferno. The audience went out for ice cream instead or whatever they do in places where it's hot at night. They prob. still have the sexy chicks with silly costumes on Italian TV, but they don’t let them talk much so that’s ok. No insult to intelligence there. And if you're a breast implanted, all dancing TV girlie please don't bother to write in to point out you do have a Phd in genetic engineering. That may well be so, and I guess there are no jobs in that field and you're just trying to see if rictus smiles get you any further in life.

18 September - Road & Rage

Bastards, I didn’t vote for this. Got out today and there’s bumps on my road, I clearly said ‘No’ to them in the stupid survey they posted through our letterboxes and they ignored me. I also said ‘No’ to parking permits so I guess those are on the way too, to keep outsiders from parking in my road ostensibly. I don't care, anyone can park in my road and would be nice if i could park in friends roads when I go visit them, instead of finding restrictions at 4pm on a Saturday or something.

But why do we need to go at 20mph? Is it to spare children? I know there’s more cars around these days and many more idiot parents (the same who feed them chips and turkey sizzlers or whatever it is Jamie Oliver rants about) but in my youth we were told to stick to pavements and look before crossing so what’s wrong with following that advice? And why drive at 20mph at night? Kids should be indoors by then, studying or playing the pre-requisite 4 hours of computer games and eating the turkey sizzlers and get so fat as to get slow in crossing the damn roads. If they’re out in the streets jumping in front of my car at midnight, then sorry, don’t care. Cyclists? Well, wear f kking reflective clothing you morons and buy/use your bike lights. If you don’t, you deserve to become an organ donor because you’re a jerk, and though your brain cannot be used for transplant because a) you're a jerk, let me re-iterate and b) it will be pulp by they, still your kidneys may be useful. And this is doubly pertinent if you’re black/asian. Brother? I do not see you in the night if you're wearing dark clothes. At least swing your bling chain backwards and I'll see the 'diamonds' or wear the spanking new white trainers. No, am not racist, don’t even try that one with me,am just against blatant stupidity. And I cycle lots as welll as being a driver and a pedestrian so I know what I'm talking about. Rant over.

15 September - Sperm U Like

I seem to have omitted tales of Toph’s return which was glorious and much anticipated, though missing on a few cinematic opportunities. Male readers, I’ll give you an example. He was on the stoop at 9am having been disgorged by plane and taxi and discussing some communal building items with a neighbour who was just going out then. As I approached, having just parked his car, he smiled and put his arm round my waist and said 'Hello babes', but basically carried on the boring conversation with neighbour (about garden plants and pots and front path if you have to ask, they might have moved on to communal bills too and drains, but I zoned out in disbelief) till that one was wrapped up. I counted the seconds of course and was considering how in the movie in my head he’d have dropped suitcase, shoulder bag etc, done a “talk to the hand gesture” to the neighbour, whilst he scooped me up as I flung myself into his arms, and kissed me for the longest time in full view of passers by, garbage men and jealous (at this point) neighbour. I guess he’s too polite for that. Lucky for him it was bed for the rest of the day and I forgave him the initial lapse. I should add I was armed with delicious food so as not to need to go out at all till following day, and …tropical fruits and flowers to help him ease the transition back into the UK. Guys, it really is simple to make the ladies happy, just ask yourself ‘What would Brad do for Angelina right at this moment???’ and you can’t go wrong. And you do want to be the one who keeps Angelina happy, right? But as I said, I’m a forgiving soul and the proof is in the …. (ok if you’re squeamish or easily grossed out don’t read further), that this girl knows all is alright if the ‘sperm you like’ test is passed. It may sound mad but… I don’t actually believe sperm tastes that different according to what foods were ingested etc. I mean, who conducts these tests? I would hope it’s the same woman with her man rather than a bunch of strangers exchanging fluids in a test tube? Anyway, I think it’s a mood thing. If am pissed off with ‘him’ somehow, I don’t want any of that near my mouth...it assumes the allure of phlegm. If instead I am totally into him, I just can’t get enough and it tastes sweet. Toph’s did/does, couldn’t get enough of it. Wonder if it’s the same when they get down on us? Clearly it was ‘juice you like’ for him too, I should add. Ok, better stop there. A friend of his who reads this blog said had no desire to be confronted with more info than can cope with.

14 September - L'Esprit de L'Escalier

Love this expression which is basically the clever stuff we all think of saying in reply to some belittling or plain annoying comments that are made to us... only we think of the greatest cutting reply when the door has already closed on us and we're half way down the stairs out of the building. Am absolutely sure that Dorothy Parker didn't just make them up on the spot you know. She spent time preparing her famous quotes and just dished them out when the occasion arose. I get absolutely mad that I think of what to say when am on the bus home and though these days we have mobile phones, a text wouldn't be long enough to detail what I finally think I should have said half an hour ago. Yes there is email or actually picking up the phone but it would generate into an argument so...
Drink and catch up with a long term g/friend. All cool till her third glass of wine and suddenly it's like having one of those conversations where you're seeing the ex, you're very friendly etc until ... old recriminations get recriminated and the groudhog day starts. In her case once every year at least. And she's the one who starts.
To be continued.....

12 September - Daddy Cool & Blondie

I’m sat at home doing nothing much so have TV on some music channel, until Youtube.com loads up all the videos ever made and you can just access what you want. Boney M is on with 'Daddy Cool'. And Boney is very boney or maybe he meant to refer to having a massive boner for his small frame. Am trying to see what I can see through tight trousers. Back then I don’t think I had any idea of what actually resided there. I seem to remember dancing at Sunday afternoon post religious class hour to Joe Texx, totally unaware of any sexual connotations to 'I Gotcha' or whatever his hit was called. So, interrupting my reading (can never just be doing one thing at a time), I’m alerted to the lyrics ‘She’s crazy like a fool/Bye bye Daddy Cool’ and ‘I’m crazy like a fool/bye bye Daddy Cool’. I wait for more to develop some kind of story that must be told in the song but no, that’s it, sum total of text. Must have listened to this a zillion times as a kiddie and never noticed the no substance. Compared to this rap and Eminem are practically Shakespeare. I shall never have him/them (my fave is still Kanye West) maligned again. A little later in the sequence come S Express and their only hit which basically says ‘I’ve got the hots for you/boo boo be boop boo’ ad nauseam. Then comes Blondie who’s not much more fulfilling with her ‘Call me’ lyrics. Try as I may I cannot recall the exact times these tunes came out. Were they an antidote to something? Was that Thatcher or John Major time? You could argue that much of dance music was even more inane than that or had no lyrics and the primary function of music is possibly to make us move our sorry little asses. Now I read there’s a musical inspired by the music of Boney M. What a gruesome prospect. Maybe I’ve missed something of this chap’s life, maybe his mere presence on TOTP was incendiary? I mean, his two sidekick women looked less possessed but still hornier than the Pan people?

10 September - Style & Savings

Colleague comments on ‘I never see you in the same clothes twice’. That’s not true of course… it’s just that I put them together in different combinations so as to create new outfits. But of course there are bulging wardrobes at home. I cannot say the same of my colleague. I’ve made the opposite mental note about her ie. ‘You always seem to be wearing the same trousers and shoes’ –the top changes, though I remember it is one of a variety of similar ones, mostly black, like the trousers. She also cuts and dyes her own hair. Considering we must be on the same salary, I’m now calculating how much more money she has than me - she also never mentions going to the theatre/opera/concerts etc…. Moi? I couldn’t get tickets for Pinter in Beckett’s at the RCT so in a fit of pique I booked Traviata and Jenufa at the ENO, then something else at the ROH, and on Sunday was taking notes on restaurants that I’ve not been to before and looked appealing. Coming out of Modigliani at the back of the RA, saw Cecconi and was instantly captivated by its twenties colour scheme and glass panes and a sampling of food is in order… and btw, I know it’s all marketing but why Modigliani and his Nudes? I counted 7 out of dozens he painted so Mr Curator, that was not a great haul you brought back to the UK, tut tut. I digress.
So uhh, yes, now I remember this colleague talking about buying a ruin in Puglia and doing it up and going to live there and also about co-owning a deli in Wimbledon… She must be just 30 something so yeah, maybe her priorities make for longer lasting assets than treasured handbags??? Now I’m depressed. She also probably takes five mins to get out of the house every morning whilst I’m always late looking for that bracelet that goes with today’s shirt, that goes with today’s scarf, oh and I must change the earrings to silver too if the bracelet is silver and so on.

8 September - Classical & Willowy

A 40th birthday party is looming. T says his friend P is coming with her friend KSJ. I forgot the two are know each other. The name sends me back to early 80’s. A man I was seeing then was seeing many, many women – ok he wasn’t a drummer but he was in a band, what was he supposed to do he says? He was very handsome and the singer had found his true love calling pretty early on so Mr Keyboards got lots of the spoils. When he got married in the late 80’s, I gave him a green shirt, replica of a green shirt he constantly wore for a year or two when I knew him intimately. As this coincided with some world tours of his, I figured the original green shirt was falling apart from wear and tear and to remind him that now the green shirt days were over. I sort of did know that for every town he visited, he’d have sampled the locals, he had a prodigious appetite which he always managed to satisfy. But despite all this, he lusted after this KSJ who presumably spurned his advances, probably, because he’d slept with one other of her trio of classical musicians and broke that girl’s heart. Of course he was rock/pop and he hankered after the refinement of a chick who played the oboe. I remember hating her for this. Tall, willowy blonde to my not tall and not willowy and not blonde, well not then anyway, I favoured a different hair dye. Over the years I think KSJ has had her fair share of troubles and I haven’t cared about that man either (in fact, I chose a rather more faithful and truer boy than him at the time) and I forgot. But I wonder how I’ll feel when I see her. Still blonde and willowy it shows on her website.

In fact, that man, DB (sadly not David Bowie folks) and I fell out a few years back after successfully maintaining a sort of lapsed friendship for years. It was the fault of the Alpha course or something similar, Landmark? He went on one and ended up confessing to years of cocaine abuse and sex addiction. Of course he had to apologise to people hurt by this. His wife was first in line. So he told her about countless affairs and one offs but … out of this long list, the only ‘real’ people to her were an old g/friend of his now ill with cancer so hardly the butt of her anger and little moi. Let’s just say that I knew him years before her and during their marriage I’d probably only slept with him once a year if I wasn’t otherwise ensconced with my own lovers. It was always for old time’s sake and during some conference in some other city but a couple of times when she and the kids where away on holiday it was in her house. So yes, I did have breakfast at her table and slept in her marital bed. It is as we all know, vomit inducing to think of this kind of defacing. I did tell her that truly had done her a huge favour as these outings of his were probably safer than wooing some young pretty thing at his office and ending up with a real lover who wrecks your marriage. But …. She deemed my apology too scant and I refused to go meet them for some gross shame and apology fest that they had planned. And I also flatly refused to attend some Alpha course myself. I don’t have addictions so twelve step type programmes are not for me. He wrote me a letter saying he had to promise his wife never to see me again. I didn’t argue and he’s not missed. I just occasionally wonder if they ever built the swimming pool on the grounds of their very, very big house in the country or if his confessions were really honest ones. But I met a friend of his recently or someone I thought was a friend but who wasted no time in telling me he despised the man as he is still an incredibly arrogant selfish guy and how the moment he dumped his confessions he felt very relieved and poised to start a new life, irrespective of the hurt he caused in unburdening himself. Ah well. C’est la vie. I don’t actually believe his philandering days are truly over either. Darn, I’ll never know.

7 September - Another techie interlude

Technorati Profile

7 September - Clothes & the Counties

I wonder what people who don’t live in London make of what they read in the Sunday supplements. All this talk of tribes, yummy mummies, disco mummies and so on… They only exist here in the big smoke. And Sados (sons and daughters of… famous/celebrity people) only register in London. Only here can I have a conversation with two different g/friends in the space of a week who both fondly talk of Lily Allen as having known her since she’s tiny as they know her parents. And they have stage kids of their own with stage godparents too. It all makes it a touch easier to get noticed. Allowed to go and see first gig of son’s band – all fresh from GCSC’s (not his first gig, but the first parents are invited to, one a writer/journalist, the other a TV producer who’s currently working with a sprightly Henry Belafonte) they bring some friends with, who happen to be legendary A&R men. Like the guy who signed the Sex Pistols… and Duran Duran. It’s a good start no? Though LilyAllen owes her record contract to her (then?) boyfriend who was mates with head of A&R at EMI. Anyway, in London all and good, but Dee goes to Brighton to see her daughter’s band play. The delectable, tall and gorgeous R is studying art and photography there. At the show Dee identifies some of the other parents and goes over to share cooing noises over the talented kids and their performance, and gets incredible rude stare down by frumpy mother of drummer. If you live in London and work in media, you wear up to date clothes and shoes, if you live in Sussex you come out to play as woman of same age but looking ten years older and you hate my sparkly friend for no other reason that she makes you look like a granny. Which both of you can be/will be soon, but right now she looks like she could steal your husband. I tell Dee when said parents will travel to see the band in Camden, as no doubt that will be the next level, we’ll be there to hold her corner. Maybe we'll be even be wearing shoeboots.

6 September - Love or Cuddles?

All we need is love. Deep down… under all that talk of sex....
Kelly is dipping her toes in web encounters. She’s doing the casuals as they cut out a lot of unnecessary faffing about shared interests, having to impress and so on. She’s yet to meet the Brighton saucy texter who’s winding her up to perfection with the filthiest texts, and in the meantime is heading out to meet some of the other promising ones she’s responded to whilst remaining well aware from a previous attempt last year, that the photos usually bear no resemblance to who actually turns up. You know, their hair was brown when the photo was taken, now it's grey kind of thing. Plus they ate a few more pies. So she calls me after a Maida Vale pub drink with a prospective candidate – a classical producer ? - who she didn’t feel v. attracted to and who also put her off by talking about the price of everything in London. Ok so he’s American and what you get here for your pound is disgraceful but still, on first date, pls pls don’t talk about how expensive everything is? Girls don’t like it.
Anyway, the next day she gets this email:
Hey K,
That was great to meet you yesterday - thanks again for coming up my way!
Hope you'll want to meet up again too, as I sure do. Actually, don't have much on this weekend coming up . . . hmmm.

And this is her thoughts:
It's like : dude, you advertised on the 'casual encounters' page. I didn't sha g you... your ad said something like :if there's chemistry.. etc etc. I didn't even snog you. What do you think will happen in the future? Gads.
Will leave it and over the weekend send him a note as I did to someone else I met online, which was along the lines of : an old boyfriend has unexpectedly come back into my life, so I'm stopping anything else for right now, hope you understand.. something like that.

And this is my bleeding heart thinking:
The poor lamb, he has nothing do on bank holiday w/end.. the poor guy….he's too soft for the casuals.

5 September - Nicole & Keith

Thanks Nicole. If it's ok for her to have a blarney with new hubby about him keeping a video of self and old model flame (not sure content of video... walking through fields of poppies or nightvision a' la Paris Hilton), then I should demand Toph eliminates some pics of the ugly ex which are gathering dust in his kitchen? Ok, these are holiday snaps so no make up etc but if I were her I'd never allow such records to be kept. Unflattering or what. I'd be doing her a favour. Anyway, I don't fancy a mini row over this. I'll go for the diplomatic route and simply make them disappear in the trash. A while ago I experimented with turning back to the wall a painting he has in the bedroom which I don't like. He's not noticed yet.
And I've just remembered a six degrees thingy. Keith Urban went out with a Scandinavian singer friend of mine. The delectable M. It was all going well last year, then he disappeared only to resurface in Nicole stories. Bad boy!

4 September - Classic & Cars

Goodwood w/end tbc

3 September - La Winterson & Stars

Was looking for address of Jeanette Winterson's deli in Spitalfields, when I came across an old article she wrote for Vogue (boy where does she find the time???) on astrology. Brilliant! My hero Jeanette has an astrologer. And before you remember that elsewhere I cite Abi Titmuss as a hero, that's fine, see previous entry on multiple personality disorder. Jeanette writes very clearly about astrology though she reveals that she takes decisions based on A's advice about important stuf like buying a house - Id' never go as far as that, I just read the stuff for me and nearest and dearest so I can say a few more soothing words. Anyway, I thought this was brilliant as could silence some of my friends who dismiss Astrology as it's not a science blah blah, but unfortunately Jeanette is a woman and so it's par for the course according to them that she would be gullible. The only men known to pay attention to stars are either a few million Indian subcontinent geezers or mass murderers like Hitler so I can't win this one. And yes, I know the demotion of Pluto as a planet changes everything up there, especially for my scorpio friends and lovers. They can have my planet Venus if they want...

2 September - Pumpkin & Seaweed

Of course there's a trace of schizophrenia in all of us. I think it's manageable if there's only two mad people in your head and not ten. Though maybe the definition of schizophrenic is in fact at least three. Never mind. I wonder if this qualifies: in a typical scenario I start to cook two very different items of food. Well, say one is actually cooking - roasted pumpkin - and the other one is merely soaking - arame' sea weed. Both to be had with something else I haven't decided yet, some pasta or some rice or some salad. But I run out of ideas and end up combining the two in the end. Weird combination? You bet. But at least it's healthy and in some trendy new restaurant they'd probably tout this as their dish du jour. But, it occurs to me you can only eat this strangely assorted foods at home if you're on your own. Imagine prospective boyfriend witnessing this. He'd run a mile as in... 'before I know it, she'll try to convert me to salads and greens only'. But... my acquired wisdom is that you can screw up on the meal you serve them, so long as you finish it with icecream or some other pudding. This reminds them of childhood and all is well again.

I realise am the same with books ie. reading a chapter of one and then switching to another. Some get finished, some take considerably longer. Take Umberto Eco. Five years after starting on 'The Island of the Day Before'... I finally finished it. Admittedly the main difficulty was in remembering every time I picked it up what had gone on before. I never did remember, hence so much unnecessary re-reading. The problem with multiple narratives across centuries. Don't even ask me for a synopsis though am sure there's one on Amazon. I did ask myself what was he writing it for? To say what exactly? On top of not being a satisfying read it taught me nothing. Can't even remember name of main character. So I promptly donated it to a charity shop but it's still there after weeks. Clearly London is full of smarter people than myself who know better than waste valuable time on Mr Eco and his hundreds of pages. A man after my heart is instead GG Marquez, who in old age has gone for slim volumes, 130 delicious pages, hurrah! His 'Memories of my melancholy Whores' is a book after Lisa's concerns, ie. ageing and sex. Unfortunately I cannot imagine the plot of the book reversed with a 90 year old woman central character obsessed with a 15 year old virgin boy. It would be too weird. It would never happen. Oh that he did! I'd be happy to get old then.
Note to karmic re-incarnation committee: I would like my next time on this earth as a man. Please pretty please. I simply have to know. Do furnish me with a functioning and sizeable cock of course. I don't want to spend my entire time licking muff to compensate.

1 September - Lisa's Beauty Tips part 1

Toph’s been away for a while, but his return is imminent, so some essential maintenance is needed so here’s Lisa’s top tips.
Fee: paint toenails, preferably red. Feel free to go over the edges as much as you like because with my method it’s all v. easy to remove smudges. Your toenails will look like a 5 year old has painted them, but.. when polish is dry…. Get thee into the bathtub, smudge Vaseline over the nails and peel off the excess polish round the edges with your thumbnail. In fact you don’t even need the Vaseline. It just comes off, magic. Then put whatever foot cream you like on feet, almond oil is perfect, cheap at your local Turkish/Greek shop no need for expensive brand, wrap feet in kitchen cling film, wear tight socks on top. Go to sleep and next morning feet are as soft as babies. For him to suck your toes better.
Quim: Toph saves me money at salons as he's not a fan of chicken skin beavers. Took me a while to abandon Brazilians, but as I said, money saved. As we’re not talking a big bush here, some hair still needs to be removed. Just don’t razor day before encounter, or when you’re somewhat distracted or dreamy or else…. That Aloe Vera will come in handy.
Face: my fave discovery, you know all those expensive and I mean costing over £50/£100 magic creams by Dr Sebag and the like which contain vitamin C etc??? Well, how about this… go to Holland and Barrett, buy some powder vitamin c and either mix a bit with your face cream – fluid is better - or better results achieved by mixing it in a few drops of water and coating your face. Rub in especially on your lines. Feels a bit burning but, next day it’s like you’ve been botoxed and saved hundreds. Lasts 24 hours or so, so keep repeating as often as possible. Incidentally if you stay in one evening and overdose with Vitamin C (keep taking it with water or juice) till you start to er, expel what’s been hiding in your guts since last Christmas and you’ll be cleansing your colon without having to go to the Hale clinic and give them £80.
Ain’t I good to you?

31 August - Kevin Bacon & Me (to be confirmed)

Out with Dear John and how things have changed. We’re talking strap ons and how he introduced the subject by being very mysterious in a phone conversation with Steph. He professes amazement that she guessed in two goes and I look at him condescendingly. Every girl knows that when a man is very, very excited about a present he’s bought you it means the present is not for you but for himself and it can only be something of a sexual nature. Unless he’s into cooking and has bought you/himself a set of Le Creuset pans or some such. Anyway, I get all jealous, but what can I do? Am not part of his games, though the fact that said strap on is in his possession rather than Steph's must mean he doesn't intend it for her exclusive use.

Of much more interest to me and my silly train-spotting obsession with degrees of separation is his revelation that one of his exes, in whose studio flat with very uncomfortable sofa bed in Earls Court, our ménage was first consummated, is now dating a bona fide major actor. When he says Ben Kingsley I splutter!!! I mean, have not seen pics of Ben K lately but I did meet the statuesque Brazilian beauty Daniela (stage name Lavender – so quaint) and well, am sure it’s love and not just red carpet opportunities for her. Check their pictures on google, such a well assorted couple. So I squeal with delight as I calculate that, never mind all my other 6 degrees from various people (but not based on the real degrees ie slept with) this one is: Lisa > Dear John > Daniela > Ben Kingsley > possibly some other woman he shagged >>>>>>>>>>>Kevin Bacon . that's 6 degrees right???? Oh my god Hollywood! Ok that missing link between BK and KB is a major incognita but it’s possible non?
But it gets better, as am laughing my head off and DJ is sweetly comparing himself to Kingsley in the no oil painting department (ahh sweet, but he’s 25 years younger at least and he’s a six footer, and blessed with a prodigious tool as they say in the trade) he says Daniela also slept with some waiter called – arrggghh, name escapes me but it was not a one off, so shall report back - who slept with Madonna who slept with various people, but let’s just pick say, Warren Beatty and that sort of links DJ (and me) with dozens of the most beautiful and old women around. Next time I meet Joan Collins I’ll be sure to mention our link to her.

As for non carnal degrees, Kelly just told me she knows Lara who works for Arnie the Governator. And F is an occasional pal of Darryll Hannah, hence JFK Junior and that’s a neat two political connections. I don’t know, but this game just entertains me.