Just had to type something today as the 29th February is few and far between. It would be remiss of me to miss it.

The ladyfriend and I positively reek of garlic today, I was a little 'eavy 'anded last night but I can't help it. It's bootiful.

It was just a simple pasta dish but it brought a little bit of Napoli to East Sussex.

We have decided to trot off to Brighton after lunch and press our noses up against shop windows like a couple of Georgy Girls.

Stroke of luck last night, my bid on ebay still goes unchallenged and, whilst the ladyfriend was subdued on red wine, I have bought Valley of the Dolls/Beyond the Valley of the Dolls AND Breakfast at Tiffanys on DVD or £15 on HMV

I was as ratty as hell yesterday and couldn't think of a nice word to say so, by way of an apology, I bring you the hula girl.

This morning has been a rollercoaster. Whilst eating breakfast a package arrived from the boys in spain full of culinary curiousities and cds. I am now set for weeks of new music, I am like a goat who can get through a record collection as though it were grass.

Half way to work the ladyfriend forgets her inhaler and therefore mentally has an asthma attack. We return home and are consequently late for work all this and it begins to snow!

I am therefore out of my usual routine for a Tuesday and need to give my blood time to steady itself. I'm a little bewildered and unsure.

This week is packed to the seams with dinner dates and engagements a few early nights are required or I shall look like Fanny Craddock before long.

Had a marvellous weekend but my, wasn't it cold? The ladyfriend (who has been safely recovered after her kidnap ordeal) and I went to Rye on saturday. We put 'over two hours' in the car park but were round the quaint streets quicker than you can say "Mapp and Lucia"

I did take some photographs if you would like to see what you missed. click here to 'ave a look

The money is in the suitcase at Waterloo Station.

Watched the tail end of the Brit Awards last night which was as dreary and predictable as ever. One shock though was hearing Justin Timberlake speak. I had never heard his squeaky, nasal trill before and was quite taken aback. He sounds, and come to think of it looks, like a pre-pubescent Gonzo from the Muppets.

I was pleased to see The Darkness although a bit sad that the bloke who plays bass has got that 'member of the audience not the band look'. I've seen it before, notably with Marco Pirroni from Adam and the Ants (circled) Sometimes people in bands just don't look right, they look like they try too hard it goes wrong, especially when they try looking enigmatic in the centre spread of Smash Hits. Give Marco his due, he's still going strong with a lovely website, although he now looks like Divine without the drag.

Tonight is the Brit Awards which, let's face it, are a bit of a dissapointment. I have little or no respect for the music industry and am cock-a-hoop that they are getting a kick in the balls with downloadable music - killing music? let's hope so.

What I am most annoyed about is the female artist which every year contains Annie bloody Lennox. Don't get me wrong, I bought her album which is 'average' but worthy of an award? I don't think so. I think she is there to make the numbers up. Dido? Sophie Ellis-Bextor?!!?? The woman missing from the list and who should win is Eddi Reader, her last album was innovative, talented and jolly good yet fails to register in the narrow minded, mainstream selection.

The irony of it all is Eddi Reader is one of the artists which won't suffer from Win MX and Kazza. Infact, anyone who can play live and support themselves on talent alone will survive, it will be the boy and toy bands which will go to the wall. Home taping isn't killing music it's taking it back to where it belongs, the music halls, the pubs, the streets and the people!

Looked after William yesterday - my parent's dog. I had a lovely time using their computer, isn't broadband luxury? I was intent on downloading loads of music but came a bit of a cropper. I could only get snippets of the new Zero 7 album and Travis was a dead loss. It all takes so long aswell!

However, I strangely managed to get Carmel, JX and amazingly Morrissey singing Moonriver. I also have most of Joan Armatrading's back catalogue which was a nice surprise. As I type this I am 'dropping the pilot'.

I'm going to a gig tonight. My word, at my age. I will have to hold the Horlicks tonight, it's going to be a late one.

Something you don't see everyday - coming to work this morning a chap standing at the bus stop looked exactly like Badly Drawn Boy Infact, I had to look twice. He had the tea cosey hat, green army jacket and shaggy chops. He did look good. It made me think how people who like people, apart from being the luckiest people in the world, like them so much that they try and look like them.

It does figure that your taste in music at such an impressionable age can have dire consequences for the rest of your life. Look at the punks and their ridiculous hair. It looks lovely on Top of the Pops but at the pic 'n' mix counter at Woolies it does lose something. I thank the Lord and my handsome brother that I was steered away from the path of gloomy music. I could be working in a chicken factory had I followed The Sisters of Mercy.

Just when I was - let's not say 'warming to' - but coming round to the French they go and vote to ban the Hijab. What mentalists. It's just such a 'French' thing to do. What a country, what people. I'm sure that they didn't surrender in the war but were in cahoots with Hitler all along.

Just what they hope to gain from this absurd attack on children is anyones guess. There will be holy war that's what, there will be suicide bombers up and down the Champs Elysee before you can say 'onion soup' Liberte, Egalite my arse. Talk about Paris Match - the place will be burnt to the ground when the fundamentalists get going.

THIS IS A VERY NOVEL WAY TO CLEAN THE INSIDE OF YOUR MONITOR. REMEMBER TO MOVE YOUR MOUSE TO GET GOOD CLEANING. CLICK ON THIS LINK IT TAKES A COUPLE OF SECONDS.
 
 
 
 

I'm so pissed off. This weekend I set up a video tape to record the whole six hours of Angels in America. Sat down last night to make a dent into it and the video is all f*cked up and no good, it's all shakey and jumpy and void. I am ticked off. Everytime I video something it seems to go wrong. I shall just have to hope it comes out on DVD.

The ladyfriend is brimming with excitement, she read yesterday that Barbara Streisand may decide to come to England and pick up the microphone again. She's a life-long fan of the hooky nosed show tune belter. I've told her she can go up to £500 tops for a ticket and she's going on her own. We're already off to see Elaine Paige in June - Je Ne Regrette Rien!

I'm wired up right! Yes, thanks to my handsome brother we are now cooking on electric in Eastbourne. What a fabulous job he made of the red wires. I am tres happy and the enormous stress and strain which comes with property ownership has begun to subside. Oven roasted beetroot anyone?

I've found something rather lovely on the internet for those that would like to see the seaside click this link. It does make me happy to see Eastbourne when I am so far away from the place.....happy days indeed.

Did anyone see the match last night? My word! It was real Roy of the Rovers stuff. The ladyfriend and I had no idea of the score. It was incredibly exciting as a result. We like Manchester City because of the nice blue outfit and that nice Mcmanaman man and so we were very glad to see him come on. It was real edge of the seat stuff - come on you blues - we cheered!

If you didn't catch it take a look at the match report here.

Found an enchanting website whilst looking for something else yesterday. It's called Trailer Trash Dolls. It seems a very successful cottage industry run by a woman who proclaims her only interests are Dolls, Dance and Dogs. If you have a spare minute it's worth taking a look and asking "why?"

It seems like a very normal Wednesday today, sometimes it's handy when days are like that. There are no pressing engagements, no pressures or deadlines. Why the day is like a fresh canvas for me to paint whatever I like on. I feel in an abstract kind of mood - I shall get out my sable now.

My hair is a right old state at the moment. Apparently the trend these days is 'length' and never being one to miss a bandwagon I am jumping on whilst it's still in town. It looks a bit of a mess so I am keeping a hat to hand at every occasion. We shall see how we go, two months without seeing scissors and still counting. I am worried I shall end up looking like Kane Dingle by Easter.

Talking of Emmerdale, I must say I find it the most engaging serial on tv, the ladyfriend and I are hooked but my goodness it moves fast. It all comes to a head on Friday, infact it all comes to ahead every Friday that's what makes it so fabulous.

For those that agree with me you must check out this website click here it has all the old cast on it..

I am currently listening to Gaydar radio, it's fantastic, I have been jigging about at work like a rent boy on speed. It's ace.

Do you know, I was sitting eating my Quaker's this morning and I flicked on to Trisha. There were some seriously thick northerners on there. There was a baby of questionable paternity being discussed and some fairly colourful language.

Normally I scoff and take the rise out of their low intelligence but I suddenly had an epiphany. "My goodness" I thought, Prescott is right, we have to divert money up north and fast otherwise generation after generation of northerners are going to turn out like this. There will be single parent after single parent after drugged up transexuals with records as long as Herb Albert's. It's good news for the producers of Trisha but is it good news for us?

I wonder if one day soon we will open the Sunday supplements and instead of seeing appeals for chained up bears in Turkey we will see women from Rochdale standing at the checkout of Quick Save.

Let us make this country and its people great again. If we can support the rest of europe we must be able to support our own home grown scum.