Paul Ross to eclipse sibling?

Do you ever feel that your house is missing a focal point? I did, so I purchased a lovely mirror with an oak frame and it now sits proudly in my living room above my fireplace. Oh, if only I had waited one week. Had I been more wise, it would not be a mirror that has pride of place, it would be this.

That's right, it's the definitive 20" canvas print of superstar television presenter, Paul Ross. My brother stumbled across it on Amazon whilst doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Read the product reviews and you'll bee ROFLing for a long time, I guarantee it. Here are some of my favourite comments:

"If you only buy one 20 inch canvas print of Paul Ross this year, this is the one to get."

"My friend was so grateful he gave us the exact same print as an early Christmas present!"

"Such is the power of the exhibition of the Ross that I've recently quit my quite good job in order to tour the 20" Ross around the UK next year."

"I can't believe the nerve of Amazon allowing this for sale after all those calls to Manuel. And if you're reading Paul, isn't it about time you and Russell both apologised publicly. It's been weeks now."

"This is NOT a portrait of Eamonn Holmes. I made this mistake and words can’t begin to describe my disappointment when I tore at the packaging to expose Ross."

And so they continue...

Kicking about town

Nice and cheap evening in London after work yesterday. It started off in the uber-trendy area of Hoxton, where I had been invited along to a swanky launch party for the new range of Kickers shoes. Yummy free cocktails were flowing, and I also got to see a cool Kickers-inspired stop-frame video (made by Lovebite) for a CSS remix of the Chromeo track 'Fancy Footwork'.

Next year they're launching a new shoe that you can colour in yourself, which is a pretty neat idea, although I never could stay inside the lines.

After having our fill of complimentary nibbles, we headed sarf to Brixton where we watched Biffy Clyro absolutely rock it up with an immaculate set, culminating in millions of sparkly ticker tape bits floating onto the crowd, and singer Simon Neil literally launching himself head first into the mosh pit for the crescendo of their closing song. Sod the drums - I now have a new career goal: rock violinist.

Hallepoojah

I’m annoyed! The Jeff Buckley version of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ is one of my favourite songs of all time. But now it’s been turned into a commercial vehicle for the X-Factor.

Don’t get me wrong, I watch X-Factor as much as the next person, but do the hoards of parents buying the single for their kiddies’ Christmas stockings even know what the song is about?! It’s blatantly about the birds and the bees!

And it’s all very well joining Facebook groups to try and get various versions of the same song to secure the Christmas Number One slot, but the rights to all versions of the track are owned by Sony BMG, so even if people download the Cohen / Buckley versions instead of Alexandra Burke’s, they are still simply lining Mr Cowell’s already-golden pockets – grrrr!

So in my warped and twisted mind I feel the only way to display my loyalty and respect for the song is simply not to listen to it ever again. Problem solved.

Gee, sore

Muchos entertainment on the train last night. A twenty-something girl and her parents were heading home after the theatre, when some tall, dark-haired dude jumps on the train just before it pulls away. The girl goes BRIGHT red and there is obviously some history between the two of them as they embrace awkwardly, and he knows her parents, and they all chat politely until he hops off at the next stop.

The girl is obviously in shock, and it unravels - to the eager ears of the whole train carriage - that he is a former boyfriend who dumped her and they hadn't seen each other or been in touch for quite some time. To add another layer of embarrassment for the poor lass, it is also revealed that the ex in question is a former member of a successful and well-known pop-opera quartet who have since split up (I don't want to name them just in case they have google alerts set up, but you can probably work it out from the title of this posting...)

Tons of respect to her though - she was obviously extremely flustered by the situation, especially since her parents witnessed it. But she dealt with the subsequent barrage of questions and ribbing from random train passengers when the full awkwardness of their encounter came to light with good humour. But that poor girl!!

Mustard-keen??!!

So I was reading the Independent today (£1???!!! - thank goodness I don't have to pay for it) and I made a rather pointless observation in two articles. That is, both articles contained a phrase that I had never heard before: 'mustard-keen'.

I'm sure this is not an unusual turn of phrase, it just so happens that I've never heard it before. But the fact that it was in pretty much the only two articles that I read in the Independent today freaked me out. Just a little. Or perhaps reporters at the Indy are MESSING WITH OUR MINDS....

Proof.

Unexpected day off

We got evacuated from the office yesterday and have no idea when we'll be allowed back. Apparently, water cascading onto the electrical system does not make for a safe working environment. We have no access to e-mails or anything - shame! My crisis mode kicked in nicely, and I helped to put together an emergency telephone pyramid so we can quickly keep each other updated on the situation given the lack of e-communication.

Unfortunately the nature of my job means that I for one can actually still do some work from home. However, I guess I mustn't grumble about being paid to sit in my new flat today, reading all of the newspapers whilst catching up with the Loose Women and Quincy's latest passionate plight.

Now I'm looking forward to a nice cosy and wholesome weekend in the countryside with my fab friends. The wellies are already packed, so bring on some sogginess!

It's been a while...

...In fact, it's been a whole bloomin month. Busiest month ever though. For one week of it I was in Dubai to visit a friend (amazingly weird place, lush weather and the best steak ever!) and the rest of the time I have been buying a flat. I am now in said flat. Aren't I grown up?!

Some funny tube announcements from the last few weeks or so that I would like to share (*in fab cockney accents*):

"Ladies and gentlemen, Balham underground station is closed. Water has SOMEHOW managed to make its way down to the station from street level, plunging it into darkness."

"Please mind the closing doors, this beast is now ready to depart."

Oh, and another one from a well spoken driver who sounded like he should be a local radio DJ. Can't remember what he said, but it definitely involved the word "thus", which made me chuckle. Oh the tube, how I miss thee!

Off we went to the circus...

...But not any old circus. Oh no. This was Cabot Circus - Bristol's brand new shopping complex development, which promises to 'place Bristol firmly on centre stage'. Aside from the annoying logo (I had a massive urge to go round with a bottle of Tipp-Ex and put dots on all of the 'i's) it's certainly architecturally impressive, with vast Eden Project-esque glass dome structures acting as a roof, although the place is still somewhat open to the elements. The range of shops is as you'd expect, with a few 'classier' ones thrown in for good measure. The funky furniture shop Dwell is a nice addition. There's also one of those down the road from me in Balham (oh, and if any of the lovely people from Dwell happen to be reading this, feel free to chuck some free furniture my way, especially a sofa!).


Everyone's been banging on about Harvey Nichols, which has also opened as part of the new development. I went in there for the sake of it and personally felt it was a complete waste of space. Literally. Not that it actually takes up much space - the place is tiny. And £620 for a bloomin cardigan?! Come on! This is Broadmead, not Knightsbridge!

I must say it was nice to see Broadmead (the shopping area of Bristol) buzzing again. Just a shame it comes down to retail and commercial interests to pump some money into the city.

Oh, and funny thing happened at the coach station in Bristol - some girl got off the coach, ran up behind her friend and gave her a massive 'surprise' hug, only for her 'friend' to turn around and reveal themselves to be a complete stranger. My brother and I chuckled heartily at this - only because it's exactly the kind of embarrassing situation that I would all too easily get myself into.

Blogtailing

Crikey, I haven't written this blog for ages. Tooooo busy! But simply have to sing the praises of the latest London Bloggers Meetup, which took place last night at Diageo plc, home of Smirnoff. It was free cocktails (and food, because it's ALL about 'responsible drinking' these days....), plus a personalised 'blogtail' - as I like to call them - for each blogger according to what they write about. Being a fan of puns (check out www.punlimited.co.uk) I was served a lemon and lime twist, because I like playing with (or 'twisting') my words. Clever. Plus we then got a free bottle of vodka at the end of the night. Not bad, eh?

Great to meet some more cool bloggers too, here's a brief roundup (sorry if I've forgotten anyone or don't have your urls):

Niamh (blogs about food)
Tom Phillips (blogs for Metro, likes robots)
Jaz
MissGeeky (loads of ace tips)
Cristiano (more tips)
Andy (organiser extraordinaire)
Rax (co-organiser extraordinaire)
Peter Marshall (photography exhibition coming up soon)
Lolly (great to catch up again)
Melanie (I think she got the best personalised cocktail)
Zoe
Gary (my friend from 'real life'!)
Chris (who still thinks my band should be called 'Hunter Wing')
Lewis

The name game

Today I got a rather watered-down taste of what it may feel like to be famous by exploiting a 'who I know' link in order to get something in return.

I was speaking to a very friendly chap at the Daily Telegraph for work, who has helped me out with a few little things in the past. However, this time I think I was asking a little bit too much and he was understandably a tad reluctant. Luckily for me, I had earlier googled him to try and find out his telephone number, only to discover that he was the 1993 Mastermind champion, specialist subject - Doctor Who!!

I seized my opportunity, casually slipping into the conversation that I am the great-niece of the late, great Patrick Troughton (the second Doctor). Needless to say he happily granted my request!

Wombling free

Ok, so it wasn't actually free to get in, but I happily parted with a tenner today to watch AFC Wimbledon play Maidenhead United in Kingston. Having not been to a football match in ages it was great to be back on the terraces.

Little bit of back history...AFC Wimbledon was formed in 2002 by a bunch of Wimbledon FC supporters who were rightly disgusted by the fact that the FA gave permission for their beloved team to relocate to Milton Keynes. The vast majority of fans severed all links with the club, and consequently, soon after moving, Wimbledon went bust and became MK Dons.

Interestingly, the 'AFC' bit doesn't officially stand for 'association football club', or anything in particular, although some argue it should stand for 'a fan's club'. This would make sense - for a non-league club to attract over 3,000 supporters to each match is no mean feat and they are currently top of the Conference South division after a 3-1 victory today. And I very much liked their cool Womble mascot...

The breast day of her life

An absolutely hilarious photo in the Sun’s Kelvin MacKenzie column today:

I have a sneaking suspicion that we will be hearing a lot more about this anonymous bride over the coming days…

(Thanks to Holly for the pun!)

Watch this and weep

Most depressing film ever = 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas', but I would still urge everyone to watch it at some point, even if it's not in the immediate future.

I went along to a free preview screening tonight, courtesy of The Grauniad, before it's officially released on Friday. Let's just say that I'm not sure I have ever heard anyone actually sob in the cinema before - and not just the one person. In fact, I think I was in the minority with my dry eyes.

I don't know what's wrong with me sometimes. Perhaps I'm just emotionally retarded. But then how come I cried like a baby during 'Titanic'?! Anyway, a thought-provoking film that certainly puts all silly, everyday trivial matters into perspective.

Totally ASHed

Ash know how to put on a show. Last night they did just that at the Roundhouse in Camden, playing their classic album '1977' in its entirety, plus loads more besides. This was pretty much my dream gig. 1977 is like my favourite album of all time, it having converted me from pop to punk rock in the summer of 1996.

Oh I remember that summer well. Spraining my ankle, going mental whilst watching Euro 96 (if only Gazza's leg had been one inch longer!) and rocking out to Ash and Dodgy CDs with my bro. I seem to recall lime green and orange were the vogue that year. I wore them together. Anyway, it really was a great gig, all the more so because I was at the front - woooo! Oh, and I love the way drummer Rick McMurray appears to be totally motionless when he plays, apart from his wrists. Legend!

I have some ace photos of the gig on my mobile but I can't seem to get them onto my laptop, grrr.

We, who shall remain nameless

My band needs a name. I have come up with tons of names already but they have all been greeted with nothing but a bemused silence.

My ideas so far:

• Tuco (the 'ugly' character from 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly')
• Hunter Wing (which is where we practice)
• Elephant in the Room (just thought it sounded cool)
  
• Fonz (seeing as he's my mate)
• Tumbleweed (because that's how quiet it goes when I've suggested any of the above)

So I am going to put it to the vote. Please indicate which of the above names you think is the best by voting on the poll on the right (go to my original blog if you're reading on Facebook). Or suggest your own by leaving a comment. I will then take the democratic findings to next week's practice and that will be that!

Petra PR stunt

,, You may have read in the newspapers today the shocking story of Petra the Blue Peter dog. Turns out that the Petra who thousands of kids came to know and love wasn’t the original Petra after all. The original puppy died two days after making its first, and only, appearance on the show, so they drafted in a secret replacement.

According to today’s reports, this ‘secret’ has only now been exposed following the revelation in former Blue Peter editor Biddy Baxter’s new book. Oh yeah? So how come this article in the Times from over a year ago knows about the dead Petra? And how come, according to Google’s news tracker, it was known way back in 1996? I’LL TELL YOU WHY! Because Biddy’s publishers want some cheap publicity for the book and journalists are too bloomin lazy to check their facts (unlike my pal Rudi, who helped me out by finding the above links).

Yes, I do realise that by writing this blog I am also publicising the book, so their stunt has blatantly worked a treat. DAMMIT!


(Me in the Blue Peter garden next to George the tortoise's memorial plaque. He was a much better pet anyway).

Best website ever?! Punderstatement...

Introducing you to www.punlimited.co.uk. Possibly the best concept for a website, like, ever.

Each day the website highlights the best pun headline from that day's newspapers, and encourages us punlovers to try and beat it.

Ok, I admit it. It's my latest (and hopefully my last) web venture, in which I celebrate the punderful art of punning. I have always loved a good pun, and over the years have built up a strong reputation / annoying habit of dropping them into everyday conversations. Some are funny, others most definitely are not. Indeed, you could even say that some of my worst ones are 'punishable offences'. Haha. But the effort and passion (and loose screw) are there at least.

So, if you are a fan of puns, or have ever been on the receiving end of one of my own spontaneous wordplay gems, no matter how feeble, click away and make me happy by spreading the word!

If only I had a separate compartment for this postage stamp....

I saw a photo of a backpack in the Financial Times today and it reminded me of a very funny moment from a few years back. I was in Rome queuing to get into the Colosseum when all of a sudden I realised I was looking at one of the most amazing sights I had ever seen. No, not the Colosseum. This:

At first glance it looks like just another tourist in a queue. But click the image to enlarge it...is that not the most amount of zips you have ever seen on one bag?! I was so enamoured with it that I had to keep taking photos, following the bag wherever it went:

The picture above gives you a true indication of the level of zippage on that bag. Is it just me who finds this absolutely hilarious?! I am actually laughing as I'm writing this because I'd completely forgotten about it until today. I seem to recall actually counting the zips and there were like 30 or something. There's even a few on the straps! Ridiculous!! Rome was lovely by the way.

Clapping Common

Highlight of the Get Loaded in the Park festival on Clapham Common for me this bank holiday weekend was undoubtedly the unstoppable energy and amazing voice of Gossip (or is it 'The Gossip'?) singer Beth Ditto. There I was in the packed tent, seriously flagging after consuming vino and vodka (and a rather dodgy burger), when she suddenly bounds on to the stage clad in a pink glittery number and sporting an eye-catching ginger bob, and sets the stage on fire. The band's performance totally invigorated me for the rest of the evening, during which I somehow ended up dancing on a table in a bar in Balham. And I don't do dancing...

Hayley on Beijing (Hayjing) *Groan*

Is anyone else puffed with pride about the Olympic success of Team GB or is it just me? We are THIRD in the medals table! Whether we'll manage to hang on to that position remains to be seen, but we've done bloody well I reckon.

My memorable Beijing Olympic moments and observations:

• Wondering how London will ever outdo Beijing's ridiculously precise opening ceremony
• Feeling slightly relieved when I found out that the little girl was miming because at least we would never sink that low...would we?!
• Telling the whole office that Chris Hoy had just won his third gold medal when, in fact, he'd just won the opening leg of his final (although he did go on to win)
• Watching some of the stuff on the big screen in Trafalgar Square in the rain
• The realisation that we seem to be especially good at the events where you sit down (cycling, rowing, sailing, eventing etc)
• Pretty much half of the teams dropping their relay batons (at least we didn't drop ours)
• Specifically, Team USA dropping their batons
• Michael Johnson's face as Bolt broke the 100m world record
• Michael Johnson's insistence that Bolt wouldn't break his own 200m record...just before he did
• John Inverdale shoving his microphone in the faces of the quadruple sculls girls as they were having simultaneous nervous breakdowns
• Watching repeats of the events on iPlayer in the office and screaming at the screen as if it was live

And many more. Other silly Olympic observations welcomed!

Help the raged (...Daily Mail readers)

This story made me chuckle today. Pensioners' groups have called for the road sign depicting old people to be revamped because the current design is 'insulting'. I can kind of see where they're coming from - of-course all elderly people don't hobble along all hunched with a walking stick. But some do, and surely they're the ones that the motorists should be looking out for, eh? Ah well, I guess the pensioners' groups in question got some publicity out of it.

*Bonus fact*
According to the Daily Mail (hmmm) "the current sign for 'elderly people crossing' was the winning entry in a children's competition held in 1981." Aaaw. (The Daily Mail comment board on this story is well worth a read).

Isn't the internet brilliant...

I have found a photo of the marvellous Big Issue seller:

See! I wasn't lying! Photo by davepatten.

The Jig Issue

Prize for the most creative Big Issue seller goes to the chap at the Trafalgar Square end of Charing Cross Road. When I saw him this evening he was stood like a statue in this position:

(minus the beach accessories) holding a Big Issue in his outstretched hand. Then, when I walked past him again a bit later, he was doing a little dance. Sadly I didn't see anyone buy a copy. But, then again, neither did I...now I feel bad.

Amazing new online game

It's lunchtime on a Friday. Only a few hours to go until the weekend. What better way to pass the time (in your lunch hour, of-course) than by participating in the world wide web's most fantastic interactive Friday-based competition, the Friday Factoid! Originally an internal game in my office, we have decided to open the weekly contest to one and all (to stop the same people from winning - you know who you are!!).

The rules:

• Check www.fridayfactoid.blogspot.com every Friday morning
• I will have uploaded this week's theme which you must find a fact about
• Submit your fact (max 100 words) as an ANONYMOUS comment to the relevant blog posting by 2pm on the Friday
• I then choose a winner
• Check back after 3pm to see if you're the victor
• If you have won, identify yourself via the blog for glorification purposes
• Err, no prizes, except the pride of having your factoid celebrated, and mass adulation

Ridiculously geeky I know but it is rather fun and you do get to learn lots of amazing stuff by reading everyone's submissions...
Happy factoiding fellow nerds!

A midsummer night's dream

Yes, I know strictly speaking the title of this blog should have a few more capital letters in it, especially since what I have to say is in fact Shakespeare-related. But I'm not actually writing about Puck and Titania, because last night a bunch of us went along to The Globe to watch a special midnight - 3.30am performance of King Lear. It's definitely midsummer-ish, it was during the night and it did indeed feel like a bit of a dream. So my grammar isn't rubbish. Ha.

Anyway, the play was fantastic - amazing pagan music and earthy costumes - I felt like I was watching it as it was originally meant to be performed. With the solar eclipse earlier in the day (which a group of us from the office successfully witnessed from Trafalgar Square by looking at the reflection of the sun in a puddle, causing a few bystanders to look at us rather oddly since it appeared that we were simply standing in a line and looking at the ground) it was, all in all, a pretty magical 24 hours in London.

Photo (in which you can kind of see us!) by little misadventure.

Blogs and booze

Tuesday afternoon. Not much planned, so decide to head over to the Southbank for a couple of sunny drinks with work buddies, mentioning it to my mate Gary who works near there to see if he fancies it. But he has plans - he is attending the London Bloggers Summer Meet Up party.

"You blog - you should come!". So indeed I did. After hastily creating some rather crude business cards I was ready to 'network'.

It was pretty darn cool, and not only because of the free drinks generously supplied by the kind people at Stella Artois. There were a varied array of people there who blog about all sorts of things - events, travel, music...and even one guy who does rather creative things with post-it notes...

Here are some blogs of the people there:

The Londoneer * Peter * Arseniy * Julius * Lolly * Mario * Christiano * Barbara * Anthony Fresh Plastic * Andy Bargery * Willem * Chris * Sandrine * Annie Mole

A bientot!

You couldn't make(it)-up

A leading high street chemist has introduced a new range of make-up for blokes, with the launch of ‘guyliner’ and ‘manscara’. So it seems that, as long as the product name includes some kind of male-related pun, they will sell it. I have therefore come up with a range of other products they could sell:

Boysturiser
Male varnish
Blushim (instead of ‘her’, gettit?!)
Roncealer (Ron is a bloke’s name)

Err, that’s all I can think of. Feel free to suggest more and we can pitch to Dragon’s Den in the near future…

Tears before breadtime

I happened to catch the last five minutes of 'Celebrity Masterchef' the other evening. I have to say, I was utterly shocked by the extreme levels of emotion on display from the c-list cooks. Former Atomic Kitten Liz and the Liverpudlian dude from 'Holby City' literally had tears rolling down their cheeks as they were waiting to hear whether they'd made it through to the final. Thank goodness they both did (along with Andi Peters, who managed to keep the weeping in check), otherwise I think some kind of emotional massacre would have ensued.

Don't get me wrong, it's strangely reassuring that it means so much to them, but I can't help but wonder a) what kind of financial incentive is being dangled in front of their noses in order to provoke such passion and b) why the hell the Atomic Kitten was allowed to compete in the first place since she had supposedly 'never touched an oven' before the show and is therefore not a 'masterchef'. Surely by this logic I should equally be allowed on the show because I am not a celebrity?! Oh yeah, I forgot, I've been in the London Lite...

FAME AT LAST

It's been a long time coming, but I am delighted to announce that I have OFFICIALLY hit the big time. No, your eyes are not deceiving you, my aforementioned encounter with The Fonz has indeed been deemed newsworthy (ahem) enough to print in our fair capital's most respected publication, the London Lite. And you can tell it's a classy rag cos the ink don't come off on yer fingers, innit. I might as well retire now.

In awe of the opera

I saw Tosca last night - my first ever opera. It was part of the annual Opera Holland Park season, and it rocked. I mean, I was expecting it to be good, but not THAT good. I was lucky enough to have a free ticket, thanks to the ever-generous Harris family, who are heavily involved in the W11 Children's Opera. It was absolutely tipping it down during the performance, but I actually felt that the stormy conditions added to the drama and atmosphere. I wish I could give the show the review it deserves here, but since it was my first operatic experience I have nothing to compare it to. But judging by the recent write-ups in the Guardian and Independent, I appear to have done all right for my first one. Aside from the amazing performances, what really bowled me over was the quality of the portaloos. They had dado rails and moisturiser for goodness sake! I've arrived!

Message to TfL - a Northern Whine

I am considering writing a stern letter to Transport for London (TfL). As mentioned in previous ramblings, I have a tendancy to fall asleep very easily. The tube being a prime spot for a bit of shut-eye. However, unless my brain is playing ridiculous tricks on me and my ears have become immune to the dulcet tones indicating that my stop is coming up, I SWEAR the automated Northern Line woman voice which kindly reawakens me from my regular slumbers hasn't mentioned Tooting Broadway for weeks! There have consequently been a number of occasions where I have only just woken myself up in time to jump off the tube. WHY IS THIS?! Has the Tooting Broadway bit of the tape broken?! Or have the big-wigs of Colliers Wood slipped TfL some cash, hoping that more people will miss their stop and get off in Colliers Wood instead, thus making 'The Wood' appear to be more popular than it actually is?! Extremely annoying. Although I guess worse things could happen.

New nan-ism

My wonderful nan came out with another corker today. She was correcting my brother on his use of English and had obviously intended to say 'you need to get your grammar right'. However, being a very Bristolian lady, what actually came out of her mouth was 'you need to get your grammal right'. At the time I had a mouth full of nan's delicious apple crumble, and I was laughing so hard that I'm surprised it didn't start spluttering out of my nose.

In other news, I have dreamt up an exciting new web project that I am hoping to get off the ground in the very near future. All I can say for now is that I have purchased a brilliant domain. Watch this space! Literally...

Speaking from the stomach

Anyone who knows me will tell you that my tummy rules my mind. When I need food, I NEED FOOD. However, my tummy certainly does not rule my mouth, which is - I learned tonight - the basic principle behind the art of ventriloquism (which is 'belly speaker' in Latin). Tonight I was lucky enough to attend the press night of The Two And Only - a new West End show all about ventriloquism, performed by the brilliant Tony Award-winner Jay Johnson at the Arts Theatre in Soho. This dude rocks - for 90 minutes nonstop he spoke with his mouth open (about ventriloquism as an art and its history) and with his mouth shut (playing the roles of brilliant 'dummies' - many of which seem to appear from nowhere). And I never throught I'd say it - the show even brought a tear to my eye at a couple of moments. I then kind of ruined the evening by pissing off the security guard in my office because I wanted to go in and use the loo - he was not impressed. Oh dear.

Too cool for school...

...Or at least I thought The Fonz was until I saw him at the Teaching Awards today. Fonzie, aka legendary superstar actor person Henry Winkler, is apparently a spokesperson for the Dyslexia Association, hence he was there. And what a gent. After a couple of sips of wine I felt confident enough to approach, dragging my two slightly less-convinced colleagues with me, and he was happy to pose for a photograph. The most impressive thing about the rendezvous was that he REMEMBERED WHO WE WERE and even made an effort to say goodbye to us before he left. What an absolute diamond! Oh, and the awards themselves were pretty good too, thanks for the hospitality Cafe Royal!

Giving blogging a bad name

Yes I know I haven't written this for a while. Sorry fans. Haha, have just got home after watching Bon Jovi tonight and am a tad tipsified. The gig / concert was amaaazing, and I must praise the Twickenham staff - everyone we spoke to there was extremely helpful and knowledgeable. *Tip* If you can't be arsed to queue for the cash machine, go into the rugby shop and buy a pencil for 50p on your card (or, if you're in a generous / drunk mood like me, an extra-special pink fluffy one for a tad more moolah) and get cashback - sooo much quicker. AND you get a pencil - woooo!

Plinthesise

They've announced the next two commissions that are going to be displayed on Trafalgar Square's Fourth Plinth. Because Trafalgar Square is one of my favourite places in the world, I find the whole Fourth Plinth concept totally fascinating, and I am pleased to report that I am delighted with both of the latest selections. One work will involve a giant replica of Nelson's HMS Victory ship in an equally large bottle, a very fitting idea from the artist Yinka Shonibare given the proximity to Nelson's Column and all that. The second piece is a bit more 'out there'. The sculptor Anthony Gormley (who rocks) wants thousands of members of the public to stand on the plinth for an hour at a time, representing all walks of life. I really love this idea, and can see myself popping out of my office every 60mins just to see who's up there next. Wouldn't want to be the poor bugger stood up there at 4am on a Tuesday morning on a cold, wet November morning though!

Melancholic trombones

Alas, another era is over. First Sally from Home & Away sods off, now Harold Bishop has bade a final farewell to Ramsay Street. Having sobbed like I'd never sobbed before when Madge died, I was preparing myself for a similar state of uninhibited despair today. But having just watched the episode on YouTube I have to say I'm actually quite disappointed. No sepia flashbacks, no emotional reminiscing between jelly-belly and Lou Carpenter (who, incidentally, is from a small village called Titchfield in Hampshire - the actor not the character, obviously) and no out-of-the-blue tragic accident (Dee and Toadie stylee - I'm still convinced she will return as a nun or something). Nope, just a half-hearted attempt at artistic poignancy with Lou and Harold sitting together in silence, trying desperately to convey to the viewer that 'nothing needs to be said'. OH BUT IT DID!! Rant over.

Basic biology

My nan recently had a conversation with my mum about how her life might have panned out if she (nan) had married a different man. My mum responded "well, I wouldn't be here to start with!" To which my lovely nan replied "Of course you would, you'd just have a different dad..."

Needless to say I laughed a lot when I heard this.

It's a holistic pyramid hat!

My unrivalled Google skilled eventually paid off:

http://www.myholistichealthshop.com/hat.html

Apparently it's meant to have holistic benefits. Weird.

Pyramid head

I saw quite possibly the strangest thing ever in Borders this evening. A guy was in there browsing the shelves, just like everyone else, except this bloke had a gold-coloured hollow pyramid thing on his head. Like a hat, but a metal-rimmed prism with nothing in the middle. I cannot for the life of me find anything online that can explain to me what this signifies, and since I am an information addict this is frustrating me greatly! I wasn't the only one who spotted it - he was getting lots of weird looks from fellow shoppers and other than the thing on his head he looked pretty normal. Can anyone shed some light on this for me please?!

I can only presume the guy is a big fan of comics:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyramid_Head#Symbolism

Sweepstake shame

Today was always going to be about the final of 'The Apprentice'. Having been bombarded with Apprentice feature upon Apprentice feature in today's newspapers and getting a phonecall from a friend who had spotted Raef in a cafe near her office - today of all days - the final itself was actually a bit of an anti-climax. Except for the fact that Lee McQueen won. But I feel slightly guilty about this. You see, I set up an office sweepstake back when the show started, and by a complete coincidence I drew Lee from the hat (the hat being the palm of my hand). I feel a bit like a manager of a kids' football team who picks his son to be the striker, despite the fact that his son is rubbish at football. I think the only solution is to spend my copious winnings (well, £30) on a round of drinks for my fellow sweepstakers. What a great problem-solver I am. Maybe I should apply for the next series. Nope.

Nappropriate?

When is it a bad time to have a snooze? I ask this particular question now because I got some shut-eye in the hairdressers earlier while my colour was taking and my wonderful stylist Clive was tending to another customer. I sometimes worry that I give in to sleep too easily and that I should make an effort to build up some kind of resistance. But the way I see it is that if my body wants sleep and it has the opportunity to do so, then I will blooming well let it happen. I've fallen asleep in some odd places in my time - aside from the more common nap-prone places like on the tube and in university lectures. I once fell asleep in the cinema whilst watching one of the Bourne films - I seem to recall the nap took hold during a particularly frenetic car chase scene. I also developed a bit of an embarrassing habit of taking a daily lunchtime kip in a cupboard during my time as a newspaper receptionist a few years back. I don't know where this blog is going, but I had to write it because I came up with such a great pun for its title. Sorry to have wasted your time!

Four for the price of one

I had my fortnightly drumming lesson this evening. Having now mastered the drums to 'Plug in Baby' by Muse, I have started to learn what is known in the trade as 'four-limb independence' and turns out I have a bit of a freaky knack for it. I've said it before but I'll reiterate it here - why do I have the coordination to do four different things at once to form a coherent rhythm, yet I am possibly the least coordinated person in the world when it comes to normal human stuff such as walking and dancing? I have come to the conclusion that inside me there lurks four beings, all battling to do their own thing during standard day-to-day activities, yet drumming enables them to harmoniously co-exist. Perhaps I should start a one-man-band.

RIP Heaven's Heathens :o)

Gotcha

I saw Dave Lee Travis (aka, 'DLT') in Hyde Park today. Or at least I was assured it was him - all I could see was the top of his head, which is very grey and fuzzy. A bit like a boom mike. Some lovely friends from work joined me to read the Sunday papers in the park (I have to read the papers every day for my job). I was delighted to see that my favourite artist, Banksy, was interviewed in the Mail on Sunday's 'Live' magazine - his first ever interview. It's only when you start to read the article that you realise that the guy being interviewed might not actually be Banksy after all, although the journalist is '99% sure'. Well, that's ok then....

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/moslive/article-1024130/Breaking-Banksy-The-interview-worlds-elusive-artist.html

So today I saw someone who may have been DLT, and read about someone who might be Banksy. Or perhaps DLT IS Banksy. That would be cool. Then we could call him 'BLT'. Harhar.

The Swiss like their stickers

Totally forgot that Euro 2008 started today - I missed the opening ceremony and everything and I feel a tad guilty about it! Strange that no newspapers were giving away free tournament wallplanners this year - and I more than anyone would know if they were. My brother is collecting the Euro 2008 Panini stickers. Apparenty the Swiss go mad for them. His 25th birthday is coming up...

http://uk.reuters.com/article/worldFootballNews/idUKL0473674120080604

I've got my bloggles on

Thought it was about time I got in on this blogging business.

Me: Hayley (Dunners)
Age: 26
Lives: London
Status: singler than ever
Plans for day: DIY and Dr Who
Pun of the day: BLOGGLES