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I think I should absolutely be on the Entertainment Committee for Rio…

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I’ve left it until the end to pass comment on the olympics, and contrary to Julie Andrews “Let’s start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place to start” I say No!  let’s start at the end with the closing ceremony shizzle.

    I made notes throughout, as I clung to the edge of the mattress – ousted by the childerbeast and the prone form of the Bman, as we watched in bed.  Predictions were made and in some cases, mercifully, were proven wrong, (Elton/McCartney/Grace Jones hula-ing).  I had threatened to switch the box off immediately if there was even a whiff of Cheryl Cole as that would totally NOT be ‘worth it’.  

I was right about this shit being available on Ebay by the morning though:- olympic+lightbulb+hat

£200 at mo with 4 days to go – for the full rig-out

I’m not so sure that any of the Canadian Team will get much more that a 99p starting bid for any of their denim jackets, which I’d like to think were an ironic statement but…

Suggestions of what we would consider entertaining and ‘typically British’ were bandied about during the course of conversation.  It became apparent very early on in this discourse that the IOC did well to steer well away from getting Bman & I involved in any way whatsoever with the opening or closing ceremonies if I’m honest.

My suggestion that The Grumbleweeds should headline, doing that combine harvester song and the one about drinking cider was not to be fulfilled.  In fairness, I’d have waited a long time because, having looked it up, these songs were actually performed by The Wurzels!

Now there’s a thought… A Wurzels/Grumbleweeds collaboration!  What could go wrong?

 Another idea that The Charlatans should perform the One-Eyed Gnome song whilst a troupe of dancing dwarves/children/persons of diminutive stature dressed in pointy hats, beards & eye-patches did a routine, was also woefully absent.  Pity… because let’s be honest, who wouldn’t be amused by that?

 Instead, once One Direction & that ginge from Halifax (who could at least have dressed up for the night) had played, the childerbeast lost interest, having no idea who anyone was.  They shared furtive glances of confusion as the Petshop Boys rode in on a chariot of cycling carrots.  The Kaiser Chiefs pretended to be The Who.  The Who pretended to be 45 years younger (not really your generation anymore is it Roger in all honesty?)

Jesse J forgot to get dressed.  Tiny Spider’s Tinkler sang something with someone else who begins with T (who’s real name is Jacob – thankyou Wikipedia) and who is actually British (despite our disputing otherwise last night). 

     It all went a bit Whitby Goth Weekend when Annie Lennox sailed in on the back of her and Suggs’  BOGOF offer from the Jubilee.  Norman Cook appeared from within a mahoosive shower cap and played his records on a rickety set of decks.   

The Spice Girls, looking like none of them had eaten for a month on purpose, rode around the stadium on top of Hackney cabs and didn’t try and ram one another or anything.  They belted out ‘Wannabe’ and ‘Spice up your life’ and even though I’ll happily admit to owning 2 Spice Girl albums, I won’t deny that secretly I was hoping one of them might fall off & snap like a twig.  (Posh, Posh, Posh, Posh!)  

God help us, even Badger BJ & the man like Cam were even seen to be boogying on down to the Old Spices:-


Timothy Spall appeared from atop Big Ben – again, much funnier if he had been in character as Barry from Auf Wiedersehn Pet rather then Winston Churchill.  Russell Brand (FFS?!) told us all he was the eggman and the walrus in some kind of tight-trousered, mad, acid-fuelled Benny Hill number. 

George Michael stayed awake long enough to crack out 2 numbers and is now in bother for showing off & doing some new material .  His mobile seeming to be in hand at one point, having flown out of his jacket pocket, (possibly Elton or Andrew Ridgely on the blower demanding to know why they hadn’t been asked to join in… or maybe it was  just his dealer?)

When I get in I’m building a 7-skinner THIS big y’all!

I know I sound like I’m slating it all, but I actually rather enjoyed it, despite the pointlessness of some of it – (Kate Moss et al doing their catwalk thing  pretty much being the antithesis of achieving anything by hard work and struggle).

Oldies dead and alive (difficult to tell on occasion) were wheeled out for the party of British music through the years.

Brian May – Now AKA in our house as “Grey candyfloss dude

Quote of the night from one of my childrebeast came just before Eric Idle appeared:  “Oh God! Here we go again! Russell Grant getting fired out of a cannon!”

Lesser bands performed the hits of their predecessors and just when you thought it surely must end soon… it didn’t!


Big up to (Oooooh) Gary Barlow though, in the light of personal tragedy of late, for not blobbing out of the Take That number.   I think London put on a most festive, if slightly bewildering at times, spectacle, which could have been so much more of a damp squib if we hadn’t come 3rd in the medal table. 

Team GB did good in the end.  This is the most sport I have ever watched and only did so once we started to win stuff (like you do). 

Let’s hope it has inspired the youth of today to stop acting like the dicks, doleites and assholes of tomorrow.

Right,  must go.  I have an email to draft to the Rio 2016 Entertainments Committee  – I have a stack of ideas that I think they should hear me out on…


BTW I bet you’re glad I was away at Magic Loungeabout and didn’t get to see the opening ceremony 😉





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Hey at least it wasn’t raining today on my Jubilee Afternoon Tea fandangle soiree (or anything).  Nope. Not raining.  More like monsoon times!

Outside in my PJ’s and raincoat this morning at 8am untangling my, now saturated, bunting and moving the gaysboy directly infront of the back door for ease of access for the smokers.

Foxtrot foxtrot sierra!

Ah well.  Us Brits never let the rain put us off from knuckling down and cracking on!  Even the childerbeast’s fave cuddlies got into the spirit of the occasion and dressed up.

Sandy & Jack in their best whistles

 Childerbeast iced some buns and washed their hands first and everything.

Can you tell which pair are the Bear’s own personal buns?

Top marks for patriotism

sweet overload?

 Folks arrived fairly fresh from France with chaussures pour les enfants, a Dali Tee & absinthe sweets for me.  (My Laboutins are obviously being held back for a birthday gift).

French footwear. Brit Tats

Fab, as per to see the Fam, as well as A&F and the future PM of the UK, DB!  Missed my bro who was likely asleep in a bush or barfing into a bin somewhere in Bristol after his pal’s stag weekend.  I suspect my photos will be more tasteful than any of his!

To be fair, the Bear almost barfed in a bin herself due to cupcake and scone overload and blamed it on “an off strawberry”.  She had to go and lie down for half an hour until the partysickness had worn off.


The AntiKit

spellcheck courtesy of the ‘concise Jo Shaw’ English dictionary













Childerbeast decided to hell with the rain and entertained themsleves with seeing how fast they could run up and down the path. The loser was the one who was the wettest!  Who needs TV eh(Although watching Boris Johnson looking a bit piddly on a barge sailing down the Thames in the pissing rain was quite entertaining #BorisonthePimms)




Everyone’s long gone now and I’m all tidied away. The childerbeast are in bed but there’s half a jug of Pimms left and a couple of scones crying out to be put out of their misery and Bman is at work til late so the couch calls...

Chin chin Xx

2011 – Year of the……..

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……earthquakes in New Zealand and Japan.  Nuclear reactor meltdowns; phone hacking scandals in the tabloids & the demise of the News of the World.  Revolt in Egypt; the super-injunction foiled by a loose lipped MP in Parliament & the power of the tweet (#giggsymassive hairylovecheat). 

I danced for my supper at a festival and one of my freinds sat in a tree for 4 days in protest (not at my dancing though).  He got a free KitKat & tried (and failed) to shit in a carrier bag and they still cut the tree down anyway.

That green plazzy bag is gonna come in useful once that KitKat kicks in pal

The year of a hot summer night, nothing on the telly and young ‘uns with nothing better to do than burn down Greggs & loot Poundlound for sweets & Footlocker for sneakers. 

Segway - the future of playground patrol

It's free yet you still chose No Frills!

Baby baby baby baby Ohhh







images courtesy of some very funny people on the Tinterweb


Clearly the hot summer night excuse didn’t hold true on Boxing Day for 18 year old Seydou Diarrassouba.  The lad may or may not have been in a gang but seriously? Stabbing another human being to death in a fight over sneakers?  WTF?  

McFly attempted World domination via the medium of the reality TV show.  Next year maybe Tom McFly (the one with the strange square face) will win The Great British Bake-Off or something.

We lost, but did not mourn, Bin Laden & Gadaffi.  Sadly we also lost, but did mourn:- Kim Il Jong,  Jayne Russell, Bubba ‘Hightower’ Smith, Heavy D, Liz Taylor, Ryan ‘Jackass’ Dunn, Peter Falk, Pete Postlethwaite,  Amy Winehouse, Steve Jobbs, Jimmy Saville and Yvette ’50 ft Woman’ Vickers was found mummified in her own house, possibly having been there undiscovered and unmissed for almost a year (it’s the way I’ll probably go to be fair). 

If only you'd actually been 50ft tall then people might have noticed you were missing


A musical tribute to all those must come from the also deceased Nate Dog with one of my favourite songs from the 90’s – everybody singalong with the Michael McDonald part, “I keep forgetting we’re not in love anymore” 


There was also of course, a mahoosive wedding which stopped the nation in it’s tracks and was the cause of posh frocks & hats, much drunkeness, partying & hangovers from hell:


Right Royal Times


Cake of the Year 2011


 Oh and some skinny bird married some balding bloke.


a couple of randoms

 I hope that 2012 will be a good and successful one and that Britain will actually win some medals at the Olympics, (which I will be nowhere near because I envisage that the London Transport System will be at meltdown throughout July).   I hope my Zumba pays off and I can wear clothes which don’t leave a red line around my body.  I hope my family remain healthy & happy and my friends remain fabulous; and I look forward immensely to the safe arrival of this little lady in April:

Kylie Renesmee GaGa Cole

Aunty DHW AKA the Anti-Aunty.  Be afraid…

HAPPY NEW YEAR & do keep on reading & tell your friends to read too (& FFS buy some of my shit from the DHW Store. I’m on a peanuts wage here guys!)  A gal’s gotta keep herself in booze somehow otherwise reality might seep in and that’s no use to me.