It's back, and if you can be bothered, it's right over here.
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WLTM
@ 2009-11-18 – 15:08:17
Colonel Gaddafi seems to have decided that Islam needs an injection of PR. He recently and rather sensationally invited 500 women to meet with him at a villa in Italy, reportedly to prove that being a female Muslim didn’t mean signing up for a life time of inequality and oppression.
This might have cut a little more mustard if he hadn’t demanded the women who attend be recruited from a hostess agency, at least 1.7 metres high, attractive, elegant and dressed to please. In the conservative sense.
In short then, Islam is good to tall lovelies in knee-length skirts. The rest of you girls can sod right off. Try Kabbalah, they’ll have anybody.
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Woo! And hoo!
@ 2009-11-18 – 14:43:35
A very happy event – the editor of the Argus e-mailed me this morning to ask if I’d like to write a 500 word ‘love her or loathe her’ piece on Jordan, to be published in tomorrow’s paper. She asked me because she knows I love that sort of thing. And boy, do I love that sort of thing.
Naturally, I chose the loathe option, and had it all off my chest by lunchtime, which is when she wanted it by. If my ears weren’t so horribly blocked from last night’s reluctant swimming session (I hate exercise almost as much as I hate Jordan) there would be steam coming out of them. It was mighty cleansing, in a way that shouting at her on the telly has never quite managed to be.
I knew buying New magazine every Tuesday would eventually pay off. I just didn’t know that I knew it.
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Yeah baby
@ 2009-11-16 – 16:05:27
There have been a few times in life so far when I can congratulate myself on being a good girlfriend. I’m pleased to report that today is one of those days.
I have two tickets to the launch of - ahem - Platinum Lace, which is apparently the ‘upgraded and enhanced’ version of old faithful, Spearmint Rhino, in Brighton. These tickets are so I can write a review. I don’t really know how to apply lipstick, so there’s no chance I’m going to become a lesbian of that, or indeed any other variety. Not really my bag.
Of course I’m going to look, but in a ‘checking other women out to see how they compare to you in a sports centre changing room’ kinda way. And I’m hoping for some comedy nipple themed canapés. And to keep my poorly developed feminist principles at bay, at least until I have a keyboard in front of me and several drinks down the hatch.
And I’m giving the other ticket to Olly. Who’s a lucky boy then? Well, we’ll see, but on paper it sounds like a interesting offer, and the kind of thing you normally have to exchange an awful lot of washing up duty and massage sessions for. For him is free. Because for me, is free. Not the point, obviously. That’s around here somewhere too...
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It's your Dolmio Day
@ 2009-11-13 – 12:38:16
Fans of the five finger discount should definitely be considering a trip to Jamie’s Italian in Brighton. If you enjoy the crafty acquisition of ‘souvenirs’ from the scene of every good time, then forget the food, tasty though it is, and concentrate on the loot.
In order to recreate a suitably rustic Italian scene, the easy to reach shelves that run around the dining area are crammed with expensive cans of vine tomatoes and heavy bottles of olive oil.
Given that they are attempting to sell olive oil at some rather interesting prices, you’d be forgiven for helping yourself to a free bottle.
The antipasti plank is placed triumphantly atop two of those tins of tomatoes when it is brought to the table, and what self-respecting waiter has time to notice those disappearing? Indeed, what self-respecting customer would choose to leave them there?
There’s also a rustic bread board full of enormous loaves of ciabatta, which the staff frequently leave unattended, and meat strung from anything that looks like it could take the weight. Easily plucked down and made off with during a busy period. Or help yourself to a serious lump of the decorative cheese that grace every counter.
Best of all, the napkins on each table are available to purchase at £12 each, so provided you don’t get clumsy with your spaghetti, you can easily sneak away with a pristine set.
No booking required, just big pockets.
