Oooh ah just a little bit

Things have been a little bit Mr and Mrs Hectic for me recently, there's the art festival to organise ofcourse (Miriam has buggered off on a fact finding mission to Paris - or so she tells me) so I've been left saying 'hit, miss or maybe' with a mass of contributions (I think we may have to raise the bar next year). On top of that I'm trying to hold down a full time job and ofcourse there's my charity work.
I'm kicking back now listening to the Eurythmics 'Savage' cd which is absolutely blinding, I'm in awe of how well it's stood up through time.
On to this weekend, I am spinning like a top. On Saturday we are off to the Duke of York cinema in Brighton for the Eurovision song contest show, I've had a t-shirt tastefully printed with the words 'Boom Bang a Bang' across my tits.
Then, it's Liza Minnelli on Sunday! I really can't wait, ofcourse it's sod's law that I think I am entering into the arena of the unwell, my throat feels a bit dicky, it's the excitement no doubt.

Shop local

I've just seen Don Letts in Tesco and he had his arms crossed.

I'm a bit of a facebook queen and dip in quite frequently. I rather like the application where you compare your friends to each other. It's all good clean fun but I was a bit shocked to find that out of all the things that I could be the best at it's not being most soave or most sophisticated but most punctual! I never thought I would be the most good looking (I have a great face for radio) but most punctual?
Anyway, that does take me nicely to my next point which happened at the bus stop (whilst waiting for a bus which would get me to work on time) the other day. I was approached by a strange looking chap who lumbered up and started to ask me about the next bus. It didn't take me long to diagnose that he was a bit 'funny' but he was quite harmless, he said he lived with his mother and it looked liked she still bought his clothes.
Then he said "do you mind me talking to you?" which quite broke my heart. What kind of society have we become when someone has to ask you that? He obviously spoke from passed experience where I daresay his peculiar manner put the willies up people. But I didn't mind. Afterall, what's more creepy a child in a man's body or a man in a child's?

Time for Toffs

I don't know about you but I'm all for Boris Johnson. I like a man who calls a spade a spade. I was at the gym on Sunday and watched him with Ken and that bent copper whilst on the treadmiill and I must say he sparkled.
They were yarping on about controlled immigration and terrorism which I could just make out over Girls Aloud and the thud of my pulse in my ears as my heart rate increased. My money's on Boris. It's time for toffs to even up the balance. It's all a bit too comprehensive these days. I say what's wrong with a bit of privilege?
Labour's gone all Animal Farm with their heads in the trough, Prescott with Bulimina!? I ask you.
As for immigration, I don't mind the Polish, if it wasn't for their pilots in the war we'd be hearing the sound of jackboots in Oxford Street.

Damn her perversions

We've got one of those chalkboard things in the kitchen where we write household necessities which we really must remember to get. You know the type of thing eggs, flour, butter.
I came down to the kitchen after the wife had left for work to find the words "wet suit" writ large! I know as women age the mind plays the occasional trick but wet suit? I'm a little too worried to ask.

Putting hairs on your chest

Those that have met me in the womanly flesh will know that I like my food. I've just consumed my lunch at my desk which is the way most office workers these days choose to knock something back whilst checking how unpopular they are on facebook. Anyway, I've just had a tomato and mozzarella salad with a poppy seed bread roll. How european. Basically, it's the ploughman's lunch of the 21st century for us Brits and it made me wonder what the farm hands of old would have made of it. I am sure they would have downed tools immediately and refused to scatter the good seed on the land if they had been presented with oily cheese and soggy rocket.

One of Dr Weil’s tasks is to have a ‘no news day’ where you are not to expose yourself to the tabloids, radio and telly news. It’s easy peasy for me. I’ve long lost interest in current events. When I first heard the phrase Credit Crunch I thought it was something Chavs ate for breakfast, the gaza strip sounds like pubic hair removal and as for Zimbabwe - Mugabe Schmugabe.
The Olympic torch didn't raise an eyebrow, it did strike me that a far better protest against China would be to stop buying iPods not to snuff out a flame in Oxford Street or wherever it was. I'm not into the athletics anyway, as far as I can tell they only put them on the telly for old ladies to stare open mouthed at whilst they chew on a custard tart.
The brain is a sponge you see and can’t differentiate between the American Presidential elections and a conversation about cheese, I’d sooner fill my head with the kind of Philadelphia that goes lovely on a Jacobs cracker than the one that might swing Hilarie’s way.
So, that’s that and all about it. The news isn’t like it used to be anyway.

Down with Downward Dog

Yoga = Yawn, I'm down with Pilates now! If you pop in to chez Lola at 7am on a week day morning you'll find me rolling about on the carpet with Zosha Piotrowski. She's fab. She's on Diva TV and I love it. Yesterday she had me so contorted I nearly brought my Shreddies back up.

An offer I couldn't refuse

I became Godmother to my niece and two nephews yesterday, it was brilliant and I was well up for renouncing the devil and his diabolical ways - those Catholics have a great way with words. Anyway, I'm chuffed to bits and you better not mess with me now unless you'd like a horse head in your bed.

In with anger out with love

I'm down with Dr Weil at the moment and have started his 8 weeks to optimum health so it was off to Tesco this lunchtime to stock up on a few nutritional and spiritual essentials.
I only had a few bits and waited at the till whilst a couple of elderly ladies checked out their shopping. I waited and waited and waited as they struggled to put their produce in the bags but chilled out with a few suggestions from Dr Weil's cannon of philosophical hints. After a good three minutes the cashier asked the old girl to pay, she pushed her card in the slot and then failed the chip and pin request FOUR times. It was a blood bath, the cashier's help light flashed so I swept my shopping back in the basket and tried to find another till.
There was more trouble here. A woman questioned her bill and began to add it up herself with a CALCULATOR! I felt a bit dizzy so I began my breathing exercises. She went then the next woman started yarping about growing her own vegetables in Devon and how she fancied maybe over wintering somewhere hot as there's not much sunshine here.
She was in no hurry to pack her shopping or pay, a huge wave of rage came over me and the flowers which Dr Weil suggested I buy for my desk to bring cheer were nearly destined for her behind "I'll give you where the sun doesn't shine" I thought.
The two women who caused the trouble to begin with walked passed me like dominoes leaving the catastrophic chain of events in their wake.
I need to swallow the little book of calm.

Something wicked this way comes

I was just out in the motor when I saw a flashing ambulance coming in the other direction. The paramedics had huge smiles on their faces. It made me wonder, do they look forward to accidents? They must break up their day and it is after all what they are employed to do but surely they do not welcome carnage?

One Word

If you could see me now I would be turning in my grave. The other night I was shaking my 'arse in the kitchen to Gaydar Radio (that and Chill are the only two Digital Stations of choice chez Lola) when a fab record came on which made me chop my veg with gusto. At first I thought it was an inspired dance mix of Fade to Gray, it had an eighties feel to it. I disco shimmied over to read the "now playing.." display on the radio and to my total horror I discovered, as the words slowly scrolled along, that it was K E L L Y B L O O D Y O S B O U R N E ! Oh me oh my. Ofcourse it was the disco bunny mix by Chris Cox and not the plain version for radio but all the same it's Kelly Bloody Osbourne. I've been playing it non stop since.

Painting by numbers

I am delighted to announce that after five years in the wilderness the Life for Lola Summer Art Festival is back! It's a long story so I shall cut it short but the upshot is now that we have secured the talents of Miriam, our Art Director, it's all systems go.

She's a bit of a free spirit and hard to pin down but she promises a fantastic programme. When I popped in to her cottage last week, to discuss the raft of talent she has secured, piles of scrap paper with noteworthy names on lay scattered on the floor. Infact she got so animated at one point the fair trade coffee tipped over and I'm sure I heard her say 'pollocks' over the din of the Beethoven.
Anyway, May is when it all kicks off and she's asked me to direct you to her temporary website: www.lifeforlola.co.uk/artfestival

"It's all round Asda's it must be true"

Now, before I start, I am overjoyed that Shannon Matthew's has been found alive but one can't help but wonder what will happen to the poor girl next. I know it's vile of me but I keep picturing her, Vikki Pollard fashion, at the police station saying "yeah but no but" and not helping with enquiries because her 'community' have 'learnt' her that the law is filth.

The rolling news reel live from Dewsbury has been a sharp reminder that Shameless Britain is very much alive. It must be a kick in the teeth to Gordon Brown, are these the children that Labour want to lift from poverty? And what poverty is that exactly? Everyone I saw was dripping in gold sovereign rings and designer trainers. With the extra child tax credits promised in Wednesday's budget they wont run out and suck on sun dried tomatoes it will spent on a packet of Lambert and Butler for Mum's new boyfriend.
I shouldn't mock the working class and I'm not, because the working class doesn't exist any more because none of them are working, they are all living on the social.

Anyway, back to Dewsbury, one thing that did strike me about the Shannon saga was how strong the women were, yes they were a bit rough around the edges and are crying out for the Tranny and Susannah treatment (idea to the BBC there, I'll let you have that one for nothing) but they were Amazonian compared to the drippy men who stood like rabbits in the headlights. My favourite was the lady who was running the search campaign, on Friday her deep masculine voice exclaimed "it's all round Asda's it must be true" it was a line that should have been written for Frank Gallagher, pure poetry.

So to Shannon, what will happen next? Her family will be lifted out of poverty for sure once they have signed over the rights to the News of the World, they will be shunned by Dewsbury and will have to move in with Sharon Osbourne. The Daily Mail will excavate the family's criminal past, Shannon will have a hit record 'let the music play' and do an ad campaign for Dreams, she'll appear on the front of Heat magazine and snort coke with Pixie Geldof. Oh it's sad of me to say it but let's just see if it all comes true.....

The tradesmen's entrance

The wife and I have had to take a week off work to have new windows and doors fitted. It was a very unsettling experience having workmen taking over the house and we couldn't go anywhere so we were, as they say, confined to quarters. Also, the sugar! After their constant demands for sweet tea all we've got left now is a teaspoon and a few hard lumpy bits . Still it's worth it and we're all snug and Upvc'ed up now which will please the green folk amongst you.
NOW, the Nigella experience, I've decided to dump the idea, it's not because it's too much of a mountain to climb it's more shallow than that, it's the Delia effect. Since Delia's new show started on Monday night Ms Lawson's stock is in freefall and I kind of want to distance myself, a bit like when a rat deserts a sinking ship. So that's that and all about it.
I managed to get myself that Duffy cd this week, I like it but the wife and I both think that all this 6o's sounding music which is engulfing the charts - I'm thinking Adele and Amy Whinehouse etc - has made listening to the radio these days a bit like watching an episode of Heartbeat!

Back of a postage stamp

Friday night the wife and I motored down to the coast to visit Michelle and Sarah the spinsters of Shoreham. It's a pretty tricky place to find so we had the sat nav ready and raring, the lady in the box was great....until we got close to the tricky bits. For some reason she got a bit slap dash and half hearted, then cross, then nasty - just our luck to have picked the menopausal voice, we're going to replace her with the fella instead.
Shoreham was lovely, we were taken to the farmer's market on saturday which was the best I have ever seen. Usually we come away from these affairs with molar splitting bread and sour jam, money for old rope but this one was brilliant, I was quite the happy shopper I can tell you. Purple sprouting broccoli, parsnips the size of cricket stumps and wild garlic. I had a riot. That was until one of the stall holders nearly started one. We struck up a conversation about Nigella Lawson and Rape seed oil when he said and I quote "what Nigella knows about cooking you could write on the back of a postage stamp" I tell you, I don't know to this day how I didn't wack him around the head with my newly bought hessian, biodegradable, fair trade, shopping bag. The wife did tell him how he had just lost a sale. Jumped up barrow boy.

If you're wise, exercise all the fat off

I've turned into a bit of a gym bunny or should I say slug and as a result I have developed a keen interest in all things 'elfy like so you can imagine my joy when I discovered the array of health and fitness magazines at the supermarket. They come with free bits and bobs and indigestible cereal bars glued to the front.

I bought one the other day called Natural Health Magazine. On the front cover it said 'Cleanse your body and soul in 14 days'. NOW, I'm no expert but surely claiming you can cleanse your soul in a fortnight is a trifle ambitious. I am thinking of the recent high profile murder cases last week for a start. Do you suppose if they gave all the lags in Belmarsh a copy each it would be a boon to criminal reform? I don't think so.

I think it's very misleading and the Features Editor's head should roll. I myself have a few episodes in life which I am not proud of and I'm sure they won't be absolved with sit ups and a few cups of camomile tea.

Just come back from TesCO2 with a big bag of knock down baby aubergines, what the hell am I going to do with all of them? I shall put them in a Thai Green curry tonight, they are supposed to be background noise but this evening they're going to be very front of house.
I got off the bus today and stepped out into a swirly snow globe, it was fantastic, none of it settled ofcourse and I'm looking out of the window now at brilliant sunshine. It was a wonderful. An added bonus was that I was listening to an old Cocteau Twins cd which was is the best soundtrack EVER to get caught in a snow shower to, it was close to a religious experience.

It's BACK! It's on BBC1 on Saturday! Oh my lord I can't contain myself.

I saw a disaster unfurl infront of my eyes this morning. On my way to work I see a lady take her kids to school every day. They use one of those four by four type things which she just about fits her two small children in. This morning I looked up to see her opening her door, I looked down to see her Chelsea tractor waiting, I looked back up and saw her mouth agape, I looked back down to see that someone had stuck a pair of pink balloons under her windscreen wipers. These were not just any balloons, they were novelty balloons fashioned to look like a pair of ladies knockers. They flopped about in the steady breeze as the young mother stood frozen to the spot, how would she explain them to her kids who would doubtless want to keep them?