The Person I've Felt The Most Closest To in the Whole Wide World ...

... was waiting in the queue for the gas chamber in Auschwitz when it was liberated in 1945.

That's gotta affect a psyche.

Sometimes I feel like my whole life is an overly rehearsed audition for a role I'm bound never to get in a capacity which will somehow offend various powerful minority groups.

Doctor Plog is 13 minutes away

... from ushering in her thirty-sixth birthday alone, accompanied only by the 1955 film "Gentlemen Marry Brunettes" (it happened to be on, I'm not some crazy Havishamesque figure) and a bottle o' Baileys.

(Pah! I preferred the original. At least Jane Russell got to play smart!)

Lazing on a Sunny Afternoooooon

The Kinks are one of my favourite bands. In the Beatles vs Stones binary, I vote for the Crouch End boys every time (and not only 'cos I'm hoping to join the 'hood).

Seeing Ray Davies was one of my life's highlights. True story.

How Totally Meta-Meta!

I don't normally follow a music clip with a music clip but I just found this track:

Which is only relevant because I am sitting in that blue room in Archway. Which hasn't been blue for at least ten years, since Mr P bought the house from Martin Carr, lead singer of the Boo Radleys. Who left a note, the parting words of which were "Take care of the blue room, and she will treat you well."

She has treated us so, so well, Martin. We have loved and lived and fought and fucked in this room. And selling it has been hard.

But the pain of yours truly, the most immature cow on the planet, has been somewhat alleviated by the fact that predictive text characterises her new hood as "Crotch End" ...

From "Mockingbird" to "Mockery" in sixteen seconds. Surely there's an award for that?

The Revolution Will Be Blogged About!!!

!!!Exclamation points in title down to woman's irrational hysteria ... NOT!!!

So here it is, in a nutshell (not nut as in testicle, you phallocentric phuck!) ...

I am sick of feminism being marginalised.

I am sick of the fact that feminism, when [mis]represented looks like shrill, hairy, hormonal UNFOUNDED dreck.

I am sick of the fact that women still make 73p to every male £1 FOR THE SAME JOB!!!! Imagine if any other group were earning a percentage of the mainstream wage! Imagine the (rightful) outcry!

I AM FUCKING SICK TO DEATH OF THE FACT THAT WE ARE ROUTINELY GROUPED ALONGSIDE "MINORITIES" WHEN NUMERICALLY WE OUTNUMBER MEN!!!!

The Revolution Starts Here!

If you are with me, add your thoughts below. We need action now.

And before you ask, maybe I am getting my period. Lick it up, haters!

Pity Party!

So never heard the term until Jen Aniston's midlastdecade's Vanity Fair cover story, but I'm throwing meself one right now!

See, NO-ONE comments on my bog anymore. NO-ONE!!! NO-ONE!!!!!

(Except for the Mr, and that's only after x amounta days nagging (Misogynist Views of Wifey: ACTIVATE!)

So.

Feeling a tad neglected.

So now you have an opportunity to fill my comment sections, rejuvenate my self-disteem, and improve your own chances for a sainthood following a single click below.

Come on.

You know you want to.

Nina. Milk. Honey.

Mr P and I were in San Francisco earlier this year and visited an exhibition at the Contemporary Jewish Museum titled "And You Shall Know Us By The Trail Of Our Vinyl" based on this book. One of the highlights was discovering the myriad non-Jewish artists who have covered Jewish classics: The Temptations, Connie Francis, Arlo Guthrie, Johnny Cash and Pat Boone amongst them. But I really think Nina kills this. Enjoy!

"I Can See London From My House!"

Reason #306,904,227 To Be Grateful.

But I do have to summons them sometimes. I am a creature who vacillates between the highest of highs and the depths of meh: things can weigh heavily, or merely appear to ...

Probably the latter informing the former.

A good read always helps. At the moment it takes the form of Amy Hempel's collected short stories. (If sentences turn you on - read her writing.) I was instantly drawn to its title - The Dog Of Marriage - and ultimately convinced by this cover review -

"If there's a funnier, smarter, or richer book published this year, I will eat my shoes".

Courtesy of my longterm read, The Guardian, noch! I love the visual. It almost inspires me to write and publish that book! Chew your platforms, beyotch!

Bedtime, she wrote.

Hugs to all.


**** Also Picture A may be blurrier but it's sunnier. If you're a local you'll get why that makes it a much better shot.

"The Big Chill" at The Big Chill

Have you seen the '80s film "The Big Chill" (Kevin Kline, Phoebe Cates, Jeff Goldblum)? It centres on a group of friends going through all this heavy psychoshit over a weekend? Well Team Chill - members of the April and Oscar Send Off posse - had many, many memorable moments but instead of angst and drama, we had crazy giggles, messy debauchery and the bloodiest best. time. evah!!!! In fact, from now on, I shall refer to it as Bestival - 'cos it's the best (fest)ival I've ever been to!

The following videos are a bit dumb. Should I remove them? Vote "yes" or "no" in the comment section.

"Cher Is On The Airwaves Talking To The DJ"

To Larry King, actually. About Michael's sweetness as a young man.

About Bob Mackie and beaded socks and Val Kilmer and stuff.

So surreal.

And I'm a tad inder the unfluence. And thinking about Chas, the daughter formerly known as Chastity. Who calls a child Chastity? The least sexy of all of the virtues, majorly trumped by Faith, see Paloma.

I'm a bit names-obsessed. The mister chastises me about it daily.

Cheers!