Are y'dancin'?

I have new shoes on.  They are gold ballet pumps from French Sole (I had a moment of madness and decided to splash out) and despite the fact that they are currently squishing my funny upturned big toes they make me want to skip! and dance!  It's just impossible to walk normally in them.  If they were red I'd be very scared right now, but as it is I'm pretty sure I'll be able - if a little sad - to take them off at the end of the day.

I love them.

19.6.06 16:30


There's No Place Like Home...

 

the red shoes

 

I've just found these on the Kurt Geiger website. I think they may be too kitsch even for me, but at £35, can I really afford to pass them up?

19.6.06 21:19


What's your damage?

Oh. My. God.  I've just received my latest Amazon parcel, holding a DVD which has the following immortal lines (along with so many other gems) therein. 

'I got you into a Remington party and what's my thanks?  I got paid in puke!'
'Lick it up, baby.  Lick. It. Up.'

Ah, I sense an evening of 80s nostalgia coming on.  Let's see if I'm still able to quote the entire film, shall we?

 

20.6.06 10:34


Blinks (or, as it shall be known henceforth: Bloggers Anonymous)...

...was fab. I love you all. Especially you. Yes, you...

Moments of note included:

- phoning absent 20sixers (we love you, PeterJ!)

- convincing ourselves that the random stranger in the corner, scribbling in his notebook, was actually Dr Tripswitch spying on us. Kudos to Martian for going over and asking him - his expression was priceless

- the very sexy barman

- masses of food which I, for one, was far too excited to eat much of

- 2 gritos in one room! (We are not worthy)

- making up gossip. It's great stuff - if only it were true...

I'm sure there's more, but if I told you I'd have to kill you. Hasta la vista, baby. x

 

 

22.6.06 11:00


Everything all right for you?

I decided to go to a certain well-known Japanese noodle bar for lunch today.  I ordered the food - a very good prawn curry - and then waited for it to arrive, which it duly did.  The plate was placed in front of me and I busied myself squeezing lime over the top.  I was aware of a waitress hovering, but didn't think too much of it.  However, as I took my first bite, before I'd even had the chance to close my mouth on the forkful of food (I kid you not), she leapt into the fray and asked the dreaded question: 'everything all right for you?' 

AAARGH!

This question is one of my pet hates when it comes to eating out.  For starters, the question itself is farcical - you want to know about everything? really? - and for seconds it's borne out of a desire to cover their arses rather than a sense of actually caring.  This is made particularly clear in this restaurant, as they put a big tick on your paper table mat once the question has been asked, as if to say, 'Yes, we've gone through the routine - now sue us, we dare you.' 

Would it be too much to ask to be allowed to enjoy my meal in peace?  If I need something, I'll ask.  Equally, if there's something wrong with the food, I'll tell you.  And if you bugger off and leave me alone I might even leave you a tip when I pay the bill...

 

23.6.06 15:31


Things I have rediscovered today

  1. Flambée-ing bananas is a lot of fun.
  2. Burning hair smells disgusting. 
23.6.06 21:30


Mars and Venus rear their ugly heads again

Him: How do you manage to spend so much money in the supermarket and still not get anything useful?

Me: WTF?! We have a fridge full of veg, a freezer full of meat and fish and a store-cupboard full of pretty much everything else.

Him: Yes, but...

Me: *light dawns* Oh. By 'useful' you mean pizzas and beer, don't you?

Him: *sheepish grin*

 

 

25.6.06 12:48


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