Monday, 30 June 2008

Still Very Busy . . . BUT . . .

'Make the World adjust to you.' Reads the tagline on the new Vauxhall Meriva/Zafira ads . . . Well, Yep, drivers of these sort of vehicles do exactly that. They make the World adjust to them, meaning they drive the rest of us off the road onto the pavement, into lamp posts and down into ditches. They have no regard for other road users whatsoever and this stupid advertisement is only encouraging them to continue in the same selfish inconsiderate way. What a stupid advert.
I don't usually rant. But AAARGGGHHH!
I'm stressed. I am very busy. I only have a small car. It has lots of dents . . .
Whilst I'm banging on about adverts, before I get on with some real work, I like the 'Echo Falls' wine advert, only because it it uses the music "Moments in Love" by The Art of Noise. I had the album, "Who's Afraid of The Art of Noise". Thing is I swear this piece of music was also used in a black and white Brylcreem advert, several centuries ago . . . it was on a beach . . with rocks . . . and sand . . . WORK.

Wednesday, 25 June 2008

Very Busy!

Not much time to post on the blog this week, but many thanks to friends who suggested I use Tarot Cards and not a crystal ball for my fortune telling . . . so I now have to learn to read the cards . . . nothing difficult then, but Gold and Fish are saved!!! The big fortune telling event is on the 12th July . . . not telling you where though . . . I will be wearing a big red wig, Jackie O shades, hooped earrings and my gypsy shawl. I will be unrecognisable . . . Must dash . . .

Friday, 20 June 2008

My Personal Vision

I love my goldfish, I really do. One is called Gold, the other is called Fish. I keep them in a traditional glass goldfish bowl. It sits on my sideboard alongside Tom. Tom is a stuffed cat. When he was alive he belonged to my Aunt Avril, when he died she couldn't bear to bury him so she had him stuffed. Then she gave him to me for Christmas. She's generous like that. It was at Christmas that I promised my services to her local village fete. I was very drunk. She lives in a lovely chocolate box village in deepest darkest Kent, her cottage is thatched and roses grow around her door [honest]. I thought she'd get me to help out in the beer tent or put me in charge of the Tombola. I was wrong. She's got me down as the fortune teller. The poster describes me as 'The Legendary Zelda', as the 'Star Attraction'. I tried to tell her that I'd be a rubbish fortune teller, but then she did that manipulative mean thing that old people do so well. Apparently, during the family Christmas party, I was seen cavorting in my mum's utility room with my cousin Tony on top of the washing machine: legs akimbo and knickers round my ankles. Was this something that Sylvie, his wife, ought to hear about? . . . Well no . . . I'd rather she didn't.
I am now having a vision of myself making a pair of goldfish homeless . . . perhaps I will get them stuffed and wrapped for Christmas . . .

Tuesday, 17 June 2008

This Made Me Laugh

I've been told off for spending acres of time trawling through the internet, but I just can't help myself. I found this yesterday whilst clicking on the 'Next Blog' button. I'm not sure if it's very very funny or just plain pervy, but it's all about sex and money. The creator reckons she's female but I'm not so sure. It's the type of thing my old art lecturer would have come up with and he was kicked out of St. Martins for making mucky movies with his students and claiming they were art. If nothing else tartania's blogspot is a nice gallery of hairstyles . . . and now I know I'm normal . . . well actually that had been bothering me lately . . .

I may be reviewing other blogs in the future, seems like it could be a fun hobby and I love research.

Monday, 16 June 2008

The Pointless Platitude

My first job was with a large law firm in the city. At some point during my first day I was taken up to the top floor and introduced to the Chairman. I perched nervously on my chair, as he, from behind a large and expensive mahogany desk, expounded the philosophy of his organisation.
'Think of us as a large supportive extended family', he told me and warming to his theme, he finished with: 'If you ever need to talk, then my door is always open.'
The Chairman, fountain pen in hand, swiftly returned to his paperwork. I took this as my cue to leave. As I did so, he looked up briefly from his file and said,
'Oh, and Scarlet . . . close the door behind you on your way out.'
Realising his contradiction, he caught my eye and we laughed together; within this shared moment we both knew that the only time we would ever communicate again would be via a polite nod at the Christmas knees up and a limp handshake at the annual Cheese and Wine party.
Which brings me to the point of this post: Why do people use these meaningless platitudes? Is it to demonstrate that they are warm friendly individuals; compassionate souls who can empathise and feel your pain? Men use them to get into your knickers and not to your mind. Trust me on this. From experience I find that people seldom ever want to listen to your woes, they have far too many of their own. If you need to talk you are much better off finding a professional such a priest, shrink or passing pole dancer.
I never say it, not that I wouldn't listen, but hell, when you want to talk I could be on the loo having a crap . . . and I really don't like being interrupted whilst doing the important things in life . . .

Friday, 13 June 2008

An unhappy brother!

Nobody realises that some people expend enormous energy merely to be normal - Albert Camus

My brother has suggested that I give up my pretensions of being a tattooist. He's says I'm great for sorting out his accounts, tax and finances; looking after his kids etc, but I should stop deluding myself that I'm ever going to be any good with the ink. He's a cruel man.

It all came to a head yesterday when a friend of his came in asking for the name of his girlfriend to be tattooed across his lower back. I looked at him and I said, 'look, marry her, have a few kids, get a mortgage, but a tattoo . . . a tattoo is like . . . permanent . . . '

The upshot of this is that I'm no longer working in the parlours with my big designer brother. He said I was a liability . . . okay, so I pass out at the sight of needles. Another fulfilling career bites the dust!

I've been asked to look over a friend's manuscript. It's not bad, it'd work well as a film script or a TV drama, it's all cops and robbers. I've asked for a radical re-draft, but he hasn't come back to me. I'll let him lick his wounds for awhile. I hate my work being critiqued as well. I sulk for days. Truthfully? Months on end then!!! I must get on with my own 'work in progress' - leave Patsy to her pole and Polly to her lyrics. I don't have the stamina to keep up with either.

I'm tired.

Thursday, 12 June 2008

Something to think about . . .

. . . "No matter how great your triumphs or how tragic your defeats remember that approximately one billion Chinese people couldn't care less" - Abraham Lazlo

Wednesday, 11 June 2008

Now I've started something!

For the clever strumpet, Pete sent these the other day:-

This day
And age
For all
And not for one
All lies
And secrets
Put on
Put on and on

This is not something you'd know about Pats!!!

Song Lyrics?

Polly's husband, Pete, likes music trivia and likes to set Polly 'pop' questions. Sometimes he will text her song lyrics that he knows for sure she won't get. Then she texts them to me. Then I text them to everyone else. Yesterday she sent me:-

It's time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now it's strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
I'm thinking of you

I asked Steve the chippy, he didn't know either. But he did ask me out for a drink!! He's coming round tonight to look at my woodwork!!! I think the slats under my mattress might need seeing to!

Tuesday, 10 June 2008

What day is it?

Skived off work yesterday and went to the coast instead. I'm lucky I have the luxury of being able to do this because I work for my brother!!! He wasn't happy but who else can he rely on to look after his kids at a moments notice?

I think I've found the best orange juice in the world in a pub looking out to sea. Fantastic. Didn't get home 'til really late last night. Knackered. Not going to do any work until it rains again!

Stuff Stuart. Stuff the world. Who cares, the sun is out! Got to sort out my brother's chippy for the new parlour in Catford though. Yawn. S'pose I ought to get up then!

Sunday, 8 June 2008

The Reason

The reason I started writing this blog was as a way of keeping in touch with an old friend. He's a bit down on his luck right now. We didn't part amicably. He drinks too much and takes too many drugs, but he kind of holds it together. I got too critical and had too many of my own problems to be understanding of his needs. That's about it really on that score. I hope he's okay and that this silly little blog with its silly little jokes will cheer him up and will remind him that someone cares about him, because we all need that to know that straight out of the blue sometimes, don't we?

Film was great!!! Loved it. But more about that next week!

Thursday, 5 June 2008

Sex and the City and a daft joke

My posh friend Polly came round to cheer me up last night. With her she brought a vat of wine and a bag full of 'Sex and the City' DVDs. We're planning on dressing up Carrie style to see the film on Friday. After the whole of series II and a bottle of white I still hadn't raised much of a smile. Then she told me a really daft joke:-

How did the firefly burn himself to death?

Trying to shag a lit cigarette.

Stunning what a vat of wine can do to your sense of humour. She came out with a stream of silly jokes, before collapsing on the bathroom floor muttering that life is a bit like being a pubic hair on the side of a toilet bowl. Eventually you will get pissed off.

How are you feeling this morning Polly?!

Wednesday, 4 June 2008


I work part-time in my brother's tattoo parlour. Yesterday one of his regulars came in. Big woman, blonde, about 40; she wanted a rose tattoo on her shoulder. Whilst waiting to talk to my bro, she showed me her 'gallery'. She has her daughter's name on one shoulder beneath a butterfly, a tiger on her left upper arm and her ex-husband's name on her bum. On her belly she had some kind of fish, so I said, 'that's a great looking whale.' She looked at me sadly and replied, 'I know . . . but it started out as dolphin.'

I have a lot to learn.

My boyfriend dumped me. He said he didn't like me writing about him in my blog. We had a big row. We've been together nearly two years - on and off. His name is Stuart. We've been rowing a lot lately. I could see it coming.

As I said, we just don't connect any more.

Monday, 2 June 2008

Scarlet being Blue

My boyfriend and I have what I term as 'Porn Sex', meaning he sits back and watches whilst I do all the work.

We just don't connect any more.

Exposition . . .

. . . . don't you just love it . . . ?