I'm pissing about with life for lola again. I just can't leave it alone. Things look rather untidy at the moment but it's getting there but I have no time to play now as I am off the Mr C and Mr D for tea.

I have come to the conclusion that toffs ruin things they create. For instance, I would like to get up really, really early tomorrow morning, drive to Oxford and gather at the foot of Magdalen Tower at dawn and listen to the college choir sing in May Day. Only I know that I would not be able to hear the perfect tone and pitch of the singers because of the drunken middle class revellry.
The ladyfriend agrees and states that the Henley Regatta would be wonderful if it were not for the Hooray Henries. What is it about these pompous old gits that turn good old English traditions into disrepair? Ok, were it not for them they probably would not exist, but I think it's very much like a child who wont let someone else play with their toys. If they can't have it themselves they ruin it for everybody.
Thank god they weren't involved with the summer solstice - can you imagine how it would have panned out? I shudder to think.

Bit impetuous last night, after work at 8pm I made the Ladyfriend come with me to a huge bluebell wood. I am determined to win the Countryfile photography competition this year and with the correct lighting I thought I'd have it in the bag with the bluebells. Unfortunately in the time it took us to get there it had turned very murky so it's back to the drawing board.
Fantastic sight though, it's more than a carpet of bluebells, it's a huge expanse. The scent was incredible, a pheasant was walking through, geese were barking in the distance it was a magic moment.
The ladyfriend jumped out of her skin when we heard a gunshot "Bloodbath in bluebell wood" ran the headline but we were quite safe beneath the canopy of trees. I shall show you my bucolic snaps later this week.

Had a rather swelegant weekend. The Ladyfriend and I went to Berkhamstead on Friday, actually got a bit pissed off in the Oxfam there. I was trying to buy a Swallows and Amazons book and the two daft well meaning Guardian readers (I could just tell) shop assistants were the pits. They served two other people before me and I spiralled into an irate frenzy. There was nowhere I could go as a consumer as they were voluntary. Is there an official body for complaints for these people? I don't think so.
Saturday we went on a nine mile walk, it was brilliant but we got lost again. Yesterday I bought a compass.
Yesterday I also bought a bargain tomato box for two quid off a market stall. I reckon there were about a hundred tomatoes. I have already made a vat of pasta sauce, oven roasted twenty in garlic and given half away to my mother and I've still got a huge bowl full in the cupboard. I shall be sick of the apples of love by the end of the week.

The Ladyfriend and I are at quite a loose end. You see, with Eastbourne, family commitments and the odd thing here and there life has been all a bit hurly burly lately, but now things have gone a bit flat. This weekend we are free and easy and can do as we damn well pleasy, only we can't remember what we used to do. The weather outlook is bleak so it looks like that lawn won't get a trim on saturday, walking in a wet wood doesn't appeal. I know one thing, the devil makes work for idle hands to do. I hope I don't blow too much cash at the shopping mall. I know.........perhaps a drive out to Wales.

May I extend my warmest St George's salutations to you all! My, my it is indeed the best day to be English......unless you are George Galloway, all suntanned and mustachioed! Dearie me, traitor, turncoat! He'll get his come uppence and end up second hand car dealing you mark my words. And another thing, this "Who want's to be a millionnaire" scam, am I alone in seeing through this transparent farce? It's as plain as the nose on my face that the whole thing is a set up from start to finish. Firstly the programme lost thousands of viewers so it had to think of a scam to regenerate interest. It "lets" that major fellow through the first round, no doubt by furnishing him with the correct answer or jamming the other's buttons. Then it let's him win the million, starts this "cheat" court case and now plans to make a feature film of the whole thing. Who benefits? The programme gets more viewers, the major et al scoop a wacking cheque from the movie - and no doubt lilke the Hamiltons will be omnipresent for the next five years - Chris Tarrant get's more bloody exposure and everyone is happy. The Major won't spill the beans because he's a toff (good choice not using someone from the lower classes) I'm not fooled........are you?

Had a marvellous weekend, got to work this morning to find we have had a win on the Lotto! We scooped £1,881 in our syndicate, it breaks down to £99 each which I am more than happy with. The ladyfriend and I intend now to splash out on a couple of inflatable camping beds and a cycle rack for the car.......ooooh we are sporty. The rest I am sure we will donate to charity - hmm.
I have just read that the Billionaire philanthropist Sir Paul Getty has died, we were tramping all over his gaff at the weekend on a 8 mile yomp. We fell on his Wormsley Estate in Ibstone by accident as we read our map completely wrong and ended up in his neck of the woods - literally - we added at least two miles onto an already arduous walk, my poor tootsies.

This is for Graham

I woke up SO tired this morning, I didn't retire too late so I can't put my finger on why. I had a small drinkie with dinner but nothing to lay me out in such a manner. It got me thinking, what if I didn't stay in bed all night? What if I am really a monster or a fiend which stalks the streets and avenues skulking in the shade for prey? What if I took out several prostitutes last night in some kind of crazed slasher frenzy? It's worth thinking about. I was dreaming of parrots when I woke up....there may be a link between birds of prey and birds of the night.

I have realised how frivolous I have become with regards to water. With the poor people around the globe without access to a fresh supply - Iraq springs to mind (if you pardon the pun) I have realised that I really don't appreciate the wealth of water at my finger tips. Yesterday, I was swigging from a plastic bottle of it like a babe on the breast, this morning I was washing the car windows which were covered in a thick film of dust. The trousers I am wearing had a squirt from the iron and the bath I had this morning full of bubbles was more than enough for two. One thing that is a sin is leaving the tap running whilst brushing my gnashers, that really is naughty.
From now on I shall treat water with more respect, I shall not waste it unduly, I will however still warm it in my mouth on occasion - I like this: take a big mouthfull of cool water, hold it in your hamster like pouches until it warms up then swallow. urrgh, it doesn't sound so nice written down.....

Where DO I start? Well, last night was quite an eyeopener. The ladyfriend and I took to the Nettlebed Folk Club last night to see Maddy Prior who was and is always a most original and exceptional performer. But my god the people! Every one of them looked as though they had come straight from filming an Open University program involving incredibly long quotations. The atmosphere in the place was intense - a thick, strong aroma of real ale and archeaology - I attribute a sore throat I feel this morning from breathing in the stench of "Folk people".
All of them looked like they had the directors cut of "The Wicker Man" in their video collection. I feared for the ladyfriend's safety when Maddy sang "John Barleycorn". Was this the key to start the ritual? I eyed the fire exits and discovered to my horror that the ladyfriend and I were trapped amongst the folkies.

My site Life for Lola is yet again going under the knife, I've tried Botox but it just aint right. So, if you bump into missing links and crap things like that then take a chill pill. The fat lady is a long way off singing, infact, she still hasn't turned up for rehearsals.

Had a delightful weekend in the country staying with the Browns. Drank I am afraid rather too much. The good lord will shake his head in dissapointment at my lack of control. We went on a nice walk Click here for pictures which was rather bracing. It was nice to smell fresh air and see nature at her most beautiful.
Tonight the ladyfriend and I are off to a "folk" club to see Maddy Prior. I have brought my chunky jumper and grown a beard especially for the occasion.

Apparently I am a child of the nineties





what decade does your personality live in?


quiz brought to you by lady interference, ltd

I am in a rare old mood this morning, yesterday I was an absolute mare and a nasty old bint. Today I am firing on all cylinders so to speak. I came to work in the car trying to sing Jerusalem and have discovered I know not the words to this fine, spirit lifting hymn. I will therefore go "online" and print out a full version which I will stick on the dash for another morning.

Regarding these journalists being shot at yesterday in Baghdad - again I say, what did they think would happen if they were in the middle of a war zone?
I don't think this wall to wall coverage is a very good thing, pull out all of these dare devil journalists and go back to employing a war artist instead.
That way, the only thing that would be upset if caught up in a crossfire would be an easel and a nice set of quality oil paints. I should imagine an artist would be able to "catch" the mood better anyway. I remember Nancy Kominsky wielding her pallette knife. I reckon she would make a marvellous job of capturing the Iraqui women scrambling for bottled Evian* on canvas. Click here to see Nancy

*I bet that water aint from the Perthshire hills

I have been watching Ragi Omar's hair throughout the war on Iraq. I am becoming increasingly worried about his safety. He's such a nice man and I feel like he has become one of the family. I feel as if I know him. I suppose it is a bit like those crazy people that hit soap opera stars in the street if their character does something oulandish believing them to be real.
I hope Ragi gets home safe it's a very precarious position to be in. He never seems to wear a hard hat, not like the softies on ITV, thing is in bright blue they stick out like sore thumbs on the battle field.....perhaps that's the idea.
It has been very interesting watching a war from the safety of an English armchair. It's a shame that this technology wasn't available during the battle of Agincourt.......wasn't that when we defeated the French (ooooh how apt we should discuss it here).

Today feels soft as if the whole of my life is cushioned in gentleman sized tissues. I don't know if my ears need syringing but it's all a bit quiet and slow. I've got leaseholds and freeholds coming out of my ears, estate agents - don't talk to me about estate agents. What is it that they actually do? The ladyfriend and I are thinking about pulling the plug, buying a winnebago and touring the north of scotland - it's all got that ridiculous.

Went down to the coast yesterday to kick Eastbourne Ass, we have decided to give our inept solicitor the feel of our Dr Scholls and go elsewhere. Estate Agents really are scum.
I have decided the reason I have become portly is due to the ladyfriend being a feeder. Good job I have twigged it before too much damage is done, a month off the booze and a few weeks off the pork pies will sort the wheat from the chaff. Take a look at this link Click here
Today I am treating the ladyfriend to a trip to portobello market, that will be nice.

Look! He does look like Mickey Rooney!

The ladyfriend and I are over our first hurdle, we managed to watch the England game without a drop passing our lips. My God it was hard. It was a rather thrilling match after Michael Owen came off........let's be honest here, why does this little boy play anyway? I am sure it's him and Heskey that let us down. Scrap them and while we are at it.....David Beckham - can we not have someone else take the free kicks and corners on occasion. He has become boring and predictable. I also can't quite work out this Gary Neville fixation, he seems to me like the bad penny that keeps turning up. The ladyfriend and I were most impressed by the Rooney lad. Such skill at such a young age, a little bit like the wonderful entertainer Mickey Rooney, infact they look similar. If he comes good like that Hollywood legend then England will win the cup next year.

You were unable to read my diary yesterday because the server went tits up in America.........another blue on blue? I see we are up and running nicely now. Came to work this morning with the Cocteau Twins playing, I was trying to sing along and it was most difficult as they sing in a strange tongue and the words are completely inaudible. Good knows what the oncoming traffic thought of my contorted mouth.
Football tonight, the Ladyfriend and I are up for dissapointment, England are so painful to watch. I don't know why we put ourselves through it. Our particular hate figure on the field is that Heskey chap. We are tired of the long ball, why can't we play like the lovely Italians? I'm just a week and feeble woman and have no place to comment on football, I shall get a rebuke from my brother again. He has already torn me off a strip about my facist views, he's right, this place is turning into conservativecentraloffice.com

Had a letter this morning congratulating me on winning a prize holiday, I entered the competition in the Polish Dancing magazine where I had to come up with - in less than 25 words I must add - why Polish Dancing is the best way to lose weight and make friends. Well, I won! I have landed myself a two week holiday at a top Polish Dancing school in Warsaw...for two.