Today, during my lunch break, I am popping to my Wonderful Mother's to let the dog out to go about its natural business. She won't be there because the pair of them (Super Step Dad) have gone off galivanting along the Royal River Thames for the day and the better part of early evening. They're going to 'have it large' on a boat to Windsor and back.

I wouldn't mind this so much if it was one of those flash in the pan occasions but it is getting to become a bit of a habit.Instead of a couple of shy and retiring retired people they go out more than I do and have a social circle wider than the M25. Long gone is the image of pensioners knitting tea cosies and sucking on a Worthers Originals. No, now it's Salsa dancing and Margharitas! Blimming Golden Girls........It will be different for me of course, the ladyfriend and I will be working till we are seventy, probably on some God forsaken production line inserting microchips into embryos......

Blimey, rough night. Woke at 5am and couldn't return to my slumber. I tossed and turned and eventually met Morpheus as the dawn chorus kicked in. I now feel rather ratty. It's the pits really as this week I intended to rejuvinate in readiness for the weekend. The ladyfriend and I are off camping in Glastonbury with Mr C and Mr D. I wanted to be fresh as a daisy for the late nights and early mornings that will no doubt arise. Last night I lay with two slices of cucumber on my eyes whilst the ladyfriend spoke to Mizz Diane. It seemed to do the trick as the puffiness seemed to subside. Now I look like Bette Davis being interviewed by Terry Wogan again.

I was quite proud of the ladyfriend as she was yabbering away to Mizz Diane about the toxins in food, I have indoctrinated her well. Tonight there is a programme called "You are what you eat" which is worth setting the video for. I don't really like the woman who presents it - Dr Gillian McKeith - there is something of the night about her. My favourite larder lady is Jane Clarke, much more tastefully presented.

Made a gruesome discovery on the way home from the crumbles Asda on Friday afternoon. We were driving along the seafront quite serenely, discussing the possibilities of what the ladyfriend and I may get up to during the weekend, when, out of the corner of my eye I saw the fluttering of police incident tape. I turned to see people standing around a car in which a man was slumped up against the passenger window, mouth wide open, ashen faced! I had seen a corpse! The image stayed with me, marring my weekend, if the truth be told. What a way to end up, the last few seconds of life spent within earshot of the amusement arcade and mini golf. A spectacle for people returning from a hard day at the office, a Wallace Arnold coach full of pensioners and the unsuspecting dog walker.

This morning I had a quick look at the lawn to check on the bird table. Pecking around the base of my feeder was a new arrival to my regular menagerie - a racing pigeon! There he was ring around his leg tucking into my mixed seed. I marvelled at his colouring and then began to wonder where he had come from. Was this a quick stop before heading off to the mountainous regions of Northern Italy or had he escaped from a few streets away? No doubt word has got round the avarian grapevine that there is good food to be had a Lola's. Yesterday I counted 12 sparrows, 3 pigeons, 2 blackbirds, 3 ducks, 7 ring turtled doves but no partridge - yet.

Tonight I'm taking the ladyfriend by the hand through the streets of London to see Lypsinka, it's the closest I will get to see Morrissey as he will be presenting him. I am worried that he may have turned from a svelte icon of my youth into Ted Bovis, the rotund comic from hi-de-hi.

Today is the last day at work for Lorraine Twitchen, she has got a ticket to ride and she don't care. She's off to work for London Transport (an institution full of militants.) I wonder if the eminent Victorians could imagine their creation and feat of engineering would be such a contentious issue today. The first tunnel was in 1863 can you imagine anything built today that will last till 2063 let alone over a century? I can't see the millennium bridge lasting twenty years, especially after it's dodgy beginnings. I fear we lost our empire and our great minds when the pennies went on Victoria's eyes. Actually, this is a fascinating website click here It's quite informative.

Thank god for the spotty kid with downs. One has to ask though, what's up with Owen? Are Ladbrokes taking bets, is it drink, drugs or insanity? Off with Owen or the pitch will look like a butcher's block as we are slashed to ribbons by Portugal on Thursday.

Thank God the ladyfriend and I will be watching Lypsinka at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on Thursday night. We shall be secluded from the rollercoaster of excitement in the outside world. Last night was bad enough, I went out to dead head the petunias at one point.

So happy, this morning I caught the end of News Round where they showed film of a Mexican attempt to cook the worlds biggest Taco. I love record attempts with food. Huge pancakes, massive pumpkins, wonderful. All these mexicans were grinning with pride as they laid out their savoury snack for the world's media. Good old News Round.

With the warmth of the season caressing the land, the celebration of the Summer Solstice brings forth a truly joyous recognition that we can now enjoy the fruits of our labors in the past season - indeed! Merry summer solstice to you all. Let's hope our boys can stick it in the back of the net tonight. I felt for the spaniards last night, oh how I too have looked on in bewilderment as my England have thrown it all away. Off with Owen and on with Luther Blisset, s'wat I say.

Talking of strapping sporty people, the Eastbourne tennis championships were a hit with the ladyfriend and I on Friday. We got to see Martina thwack a few balls. I didn't realise she was a grunter. Perhaps the tv microphone doesn't pick up her "hurruph" when she hits the ball, like a pipistrelle bat she is out of range. She's certainly slowed down a tad. Her fan base were there, my word. Eastbourne was wall to wall sensible shoes this weekend it was like mardi gras.

I've already ruined someone's day. Last night I turned on my mobile phone to find that I had received a voice mail 'oh goody' I thought. Anyway, I listened to it and it was no one I knew "Hello Marge, I'll see you outside New Look at 9.30, see you tomorrow, bye"

This morning at 9.15 my mobile rang. "Oh sorry, I've got the wrong number." Then it rang again "Oh, Marge?"
"No" says I "I'm awfully sorry" I told her that she had called me last night and what a terrible mistake had been made. She sounded quite panic striken.

Now I can't help but worry about Marge and this poor woman outside New Look. I don't know where she was or what town she was in, but somewhere Marge was unaware that she had to be outside New Look at 9.30, I wonder if she was reading the paper waiting for Trisha to come on. Perhaps she was fast asleep dreaming of riding a pony in her youth.

A day ruined by a slippery digit.

Where has the morning slipped? It's run like pennies down the leg of my life, out of a holey pocket onto the ground of history.

I must say that I am enjoying the football but through complete ignorance the ladyfriend and I seem to have an engagement for nearly all of the England games. On Sunday we were in the Royal Festival Hall watching Elaine Paige belting out "Don't cry for me Argentina." We shall be able to see tomorrow's second half as I am at work and next Thursday we will be back on the South Bank to see Lypsinka. What bad planning, worse than 1960's architects with sackfuls of concrete and a town centre to fill.

Part of me is glad as watching England is so painful. This way we are unable to watch Heskey lumber around or Michael Owen goal hang, waiting for someone to kick the ball to his way.

Oi Guy!

This is for Guy ::::::: http://www.lifeforlola.co.uk/atracktive.gif

I like Tuesdays, today I listen to Celtic Heartbeat from Radio Wales It's great this broadband business. It has opened up my world I can tell you. It's also made me feel a little bit better at the 'money for menaces' licence fee I have to stump up to keep EastEnders in badly dressed ex-comedian/straight actors.

Someone's career I do fear for is that poor man who does those adverts for Flash, the one that used to be in Brush Strokes. There's a man walking the green mile of his acting career. Perhaps EastEnders should throw him a lifeline and bring him in as some over acting cheeky window cleaner - he's got experience.

Enough about EastEnders, I rarely watch the programme myself, thank goodness. I do have a connection at the BBC - Old Vic, if you excuse the pun - she's entered the Art Festival and you can see her work by clicking here

Why Heskey?

All I can say is good luck Birmingham City - you're going to need it!

These Thursdays are coming around quickly. The days are racing, the video tape of my life is on fast forward. I suppose it's because I am having fun. I am quite chirpy of late although today I have had the bowels of satan. I think I have been spiked by the ladyfriend's mother. I have resorted to Imodium which I must say does seem to have done the trick. Touch wood.........and the lavvy door handle.

This weekend I have to tackle the meadow, it has grown a bit too well. The different variety of grasses have grown taller than myself and it is rather resembling Steptoe's yard and not the country landscape I had hoped. I am cock-a-hoop at the amazing flowers - some would say weeds - that have flourished in the last few weeks. There are these amazing white star like flowers, they are quite possibly some kind of rare orchid. I do hope so, the back garden may become an area of outstanding natural beauty and I can charge ramblers a penny or two. I will also be able to sell cakes to the retarded who will visit my accompanying tearoom in great numbers.

A late entry today, I have been rushed off my size sevens which are today squeezed into a pair of sandals - they will fit, they will fit! I've not been busy but somehow work has taken over my personal life - just for this morning.

I am feeling a little tired today, I was up reading the Sunday papers last night which just shows you how behind I am with things. It was a recount of Operation Overlord, I was gripped and couldn't put it down. I fancy going off to the Imperial War Museum on Sunday such is my interest in the subject. Perhaps I can convince the ladyfriend to come along with me, we are in town on Sunday as we have tickets to see some old bird belting out show tunes (Elaine Paige) . I can't believe how quickly it has come round. I'm quite excited about it, I hope she drags old Barbara Dickson on in the encore.

Pictured is another in the eagerly awaited cut out and keep series of the ladyfriend's friends.

Fascinating to watch the transit of venus for one day only, once in a lifetime although anyone, like me, who has the odd eye floater or two will live with a little black dot spinning all over the place all year.

It is a marvellous site, I had the telescope out this morning trying to direct the sun onto a piece of card. I didn't have much success, I burnt a hole in the carpet and took out a couple of ants so have settled for watching it via the BBC's website.

Last year we had firey Mars (the Roman God of War) the closest it has ever been to earth which I reckon caused the war in Iraq and a burning hot summer. Hopefully with this stuff with Venus (goddess of love and beauty) we shall all have peace in our time and a lovely complexion.

I sat on the sofa yesterday watching the old soldiers in Normandy, I was fine until the bottom lip quivered on one of the old boys and that was it for Lola - oh how I wept. Old soldiers and Elgar, they do it to me everytime.

I'm absolutely horrified at Channel 4, what ignorance and downright ingratitude to schedule a programme called Pop Beach a youth music programme whilst over in France they were commemorating the carnage on Normandy beaches and acts of moral fibre the kids of today don't know how to spell let alone have. Heads should roll.

By the way, today's photo is part one in a series of the Ladyfriend's friends.........who'll be next?

Hurrah, the ducks are back! They arrived on Tuesday night and now chill out in our back garden. They are unusually late, we thought we weren't going to get them this year. Maybe it's down to the mobile phone masts putting them out of sink, I don't know, but they are back!

Coming to work this morning a girl sat up in the passenger seat of a parked car, she looked a bit confused as though just woken. She was dressed like a chorus girl from a German nightclub in the 1930's. I think she was one, tricked into a time machine by a mad nuclear scientist who promised her the world and now here she is, trapped in the future with nothing but a silky basque to protect her from the elements. Good job it's a nice day.

Received an email today urging me to boycott ESSO and BP (who are apparently the same) in a bid to drive prices down. I'm all for a bit of consumer pressure and will gladly join in - even though no one helped when they changed the recipe for Heinz salad cream back in the 80's, where were my comrades then?

Watched the football last night after the end of Cutting It and I have decided I no longer like David Beckham. He really is chav scum. I read an excerpt from an interview of him in Vanity Fair this morning which sealed his fate. He said "me and Victoria" twice which deserves a slap round the chops for saying it once let alone a second time. The fact that his wife now intends to model her children sends me cold. I think it's about time to start the Beckham backlash, their brash materialism hasn't done this country any good. Consumer debt is now the highest it has ever been, due in part ,I am sure, by the Beckham's indulgences. The irony is, they don't actually stick their hands in their pockets. It's well documented how clothes, cars and gems are sent to them. Whilst those desperate to emulate them rack up debt after debt, the Beckham's remain minted.

Had a cracking weekend, exceptional weather down on the sunshine coast of Eastbourne. I did a bit of stripping down there - finally took down the border in the living room. Why the woman put it up in the first place is beyond me. Fortunately it came off without a hitch. After the destruction I caused when I took off a few kitchen tiles last year I was more than apprehensive.

On saturday the ladyfriend and I sat outside Eastbourne Town Hall to see Paul Ross get married. We had been given a tip-off about it by my smashing mother. We weren't interested in seeing Paul Ross but the possible interesting c-list celebrity congregation. We got there at the wrong time though, a big old limo turned up complete with security guard to pick up some old timers so we didn't get a sniff of Linda Bellingham or such like. We were harrassed by a mad woman from the eastern bloc as happy couple after happy couple came out (it was like a conveyor belt) She went on and on how modern marriages don't last and something about coffee in caravans - she was a woman worn down by life that's for sure.

I did take my camera out a lot this weekend. This is a medieaval fayre in Battle also I have added Eastbourne Erections - a celebration of Eastbourne Architecture to the art festival aswell as Victorian lady and some of you may not have seen Boogie Wonderland by Rachel and Jemma.