My ears pricked up while Darren was watching the Chelsea match on telly earlier today. Before the match kicked off 'Liquidator' by Harry J and the Allstars was played and the crowd chanted 'Chelsea' during the chorus. This was nice to hear as I'm sure I remember the tune being banned by the board at Chelsea as it 'incited racism' (their usual chants to the song were slightly more offensive back then). Anyway, the song brought back memories of skinheads and terrace violence from the 70's and made me remember that the ska movement back then was much more racially mixed and 'tolerant'. Indeed, the 'shed' end of Chelsea's ground was often a sea of black and white faces whose violence each Saturday was aimed at the other teams supporters rather than each other. Then the NF got on board and started recruiting followers from the ska and skinhead movement. And, believe it or not, they were actually quite successful for a few years in transforming racially tolerant white skinheads into violent and racist hooligans. Other teams used 'liquidator' during the early 70's (Everton, Millwall and West Ham) but it's ease of chanting to was responsible for it's withdrawal from the pre-match warm up soundtrack. And so, like I say, it was nice to hear it played today without any rude words or offensive chanting inserted.

Yesterday was fun. Up with the birds and off to Bluewater mall. Drove over Dartford bridge, bought christmas presents, oooh'd and aahhh'd at the reindeer and swans, ate pizza, leered at the perfect skin on Kent men, saw a tranny, shouted at my Dad in the car, got told off by Darren, failed to find the perfect boots, spent a small mortgage in Molton Brown then came home.
Last night, while Darren worshipped at the church of Stevie Nicks, I watched Bowling for Columbine and Elizabeth mith Mum and Dad. They were bored by Columbine but loved Elizabeth. My Dad then sat up till 1am watching a Jude Law film about guns and shooting and the war. He loved that. But then his favourite author is J T Edson.
Off to Brick Lane and Spitalfields market this morning for a totally different kind of shopping experience (my parents would not appreciate tickets to a play at the NT or a West End show but they will be eternally grateful for a tour of great shopping places).

Last night we watched Finding Nemo on DVD (Darren borrowed it from his boss who'd bought it in the USA). Mighty good fun (though no Shrek). Ellen deGeneres is great as Dory the forgetful fish.

Taking a trip to Bluewater tomorrow. We love Bluewater. This year they have an outdoor Christmas market so now there's no need to schlep over to those strange northern European cities like Koln or Zurich for wooden, hand painted trinkets or smelly cheeses and mulled wine. We will arrive at 8.30am therefore beating the crowds. We will shop, have lunch then come home. My parents will need a nap by then.

Moms and pops have arrived. They're at our house right now and have prolly rolled up the rug in the front room and are jitterbugging to the new Pet Shop Boys album which was left in the CD player. I just bought us all pizzas for dinner (11 WW points per pizza. bargain!) but Darren will be a bit late returning home as he's off to meet the PSB's and have his Pop Art signed. Tonight we will all settle down and watch telly (or maybe a French movie on DVD as they hate those).

The only place it's not raining right now is the NW so I'm off to Blackpool for 3 days. It's been raining non-stop in London for 36 hours now and Edward is sick of having his legs and undercarriage wiped down after every visit to our garden. I'll take him with me to the seaside (what's the betting the rain follows us there?) Darren is unable to travel with us this time so I've took a picture of him in a locket. Check here while I'm gone for picture blogging.
Back on Thursday for the arrival of ma and pa spellcnut (annual christmas shopping trip where they traipse around the same shops that they could have traipsed around in Newcastle).

Rugby withdrawal?

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Going out? Forgotten how. Last night I wallpapered the kitchen then went swimming at 9pm. Luckily there are 4 swimming pools in my borough that have adult only swim nights most nights of the week. I did 20 lengths then went home. Nowt decent in the changing rooms. I love the smell of chlorine.

Got weighed yesterday at WW. I've shed 2.5 lbs. Which is average for my 'size'. Sofa so good. I had a tin of tomatoes on toast last night for my dinner. Expensive tomatoes from Italy on WW bread. Desert was a bowl of sultana bran with skimmed milk. Total points 6. Then I had a cup of tea with two WW chocolate crisp bars (surprisingly yummy) for 4 points. I've got all this and more written down in a little book which I read at bedtime. I'm also reading this which is just super.

Grim day here. We've lost many colleagues in Istanbul. Roger Short (Consul General) was a lovely fella with a generous wife who served us cold beer while we swam in their pool. Shocked.

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Just a couple of things to report this morning: I nearly knocked Paul Morley off his pushbike on Regent Street and I've got to go the House of Commons for dinner on 1st December. Do you think they will do me a weightwatchers shepherds pie?

Hi, I'm Blanche and I'm a reporter. Dave and Darren are out of town today and Edward is at the grooming salon so I thought I'd let myself in through the dog flap and have a bit of a spoach round spellcnut towers. What a dump! There's crumbs in the bed, mucky videos strewn all over the floor, dust balls in every corner, no cream in the fridge and a weird pong coming from the bathroom. Poor things, no wonder they have no friends.
Anyway, there's nothing here for a sophisticated cat like me so I'm heading back to Cat Town to be with my own kind.

P.S. I left a 'message' for Edward in the garden and I discovered that the horrible whiff from the bathroom was old spice aftershave *shudders*.

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Some folk find the seaside at winter depressing. Not me. I find the waves banging over the prom have a similar effect on me as a lava lamp. I can just stare at them for hours. Or until my face becomes numb with cold (which is about 15 minutes in Blackpool). I love the grey, wet skies and the pacamac brigade battoned down in the tram shelter and the local lads wearing t-shirts on a freezing November night because "our coats will only get nicked" and the neon in the puddles and the 'open all year' signs in seafront hotels and the promise of panto with someone from Eastenders. I took this.

I only went there to try and buy the supermarket shopping guide but before I knew it I was registered, weighed and officially welcomed into the world of fat folk and their freakin' fraternity known as Weight Watchers. The book I went there to buy was out of stock so I was given 4 carrier bags of similar literature and a box of peanut cookies which I ate on the way back to the office. I can eat 28 points a day. Yesterday I ate 24 which means today I can eat 32. Today so far I have eaten 11 ponts which means tonight I can eat 21 points (including the 4 points from yesterday which I am allowed to carry over). A cup of tea and two weetabix with semi-skimmed milk is 4 ponts. I have a very complicated piece of card with sliding inserts that will tell me the points value of food in the supermarket but I know I will look like a right fat bastard standing in the potted meat aisle trying to work out the damage a steak and kidney pudding will do. That's where the (out of stock) supermarket shopping guide would have come in handy. My goal is 11st and christmas is just round the corner. A walnut whip is worth 3 points.

Ooooooo! Must dash! There's a BW downstairs to see me. *tucks shirt into underpants in vain attempt to look slim*

UPDATE
We shared a hot chocolate in Starbucks (2 straws, v. romantic). I gave her something thick and hard but told her to slip it into Mr BW's hand as soon as she got home. She gave me 3 pots of of her *special* honey and all the village gossip. (Yes she wore blue and no she didn't arrive by broom). Did I mention that she was lovely?

Not a fan of these quick quiz things but I always do them. What kind of retro gal are you? My result was weird as Darren is seriously thinking about getting a long haired dachshund to keep Edward company. Spooky.




You are the playful pin-up! Do you know how to be
serious?


What Type Of Retro Gal Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Deep breaths.

Sitting at my desk at work (8am!) listening to T Rex and enjoying a cup of tea and a cup cake.
My Dad used to have a copy of The Slider on 8 track in our car when I was a kid. He always seemed to be driving around town on Saturday mornings doing chores and popping in to see relatives. I would ride with him stting in the back of the Zephyr trying to read a Paddington Bear book while wondering what Marc Bolan looked like naked as he sang Metal Guru to me and my Dad.

"What is 'Metal Guru' about?" and I said I don't know. He said "what's a Metal Guru?" and I said "well, like a Jeepster actually". So he said "What's a Jeepster?" I said "it's like riding a White Swan" and he went "oh". - Marc Bolan in Circus magazine 1972.

The trees in our street are a very vivid yellow colour and I'm wearing these boots with my suit today (and a nike t-shirt instead of a shirt) and I've just had two paracetamols with a cup of tea. Really craving a fig roll so might pop down to sainsburys in a mo. Though I should probably wait till lunchtime and get a balanced meal at the canteen. *thinks to self, I could do both*

Lunch today was sausage and mash at the canteen followed by a pint in The Speaker. I'm overweight. I want to lose a stone and then another. But I won't. I'm old and lazy and terrified of exercise. And far too in love with fig rolls and thick white sliced bread smothered in cheap spread. Ho hum. We can't decide on our spring holiday. Darren wants to go to New Orleans and the vicinity and I want two weeks in one place (preferably a 4 star hotel in the suburbs of LA). We both quite fancy the far east but the long flight and live turtles in buckets is putting us off. A grand tour of Germany and its sausages is an option but then so is Australia and that mardi gras thing they have. We could go to a fat camp but frankly what could they teach us? (oh, you mean you go to fat camp to *stop* being fat and camp? jeez who'd have thought!). I guess we'll probably shed a few pounds in the spring and then book a clothing optional hotel in Fort Lauderdale and then realise that it's bear-week and that we are verging on anorexic compared to the other guests. Sods law.

I just bluetoothed a batch of pics from my phone to here. Feel free.
*puts on 'part-time-geek' t-shirt ready for bed*

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We went to see Intolerable Cruelty in Blackpool at the weekend. Very poor for a Coen movie. Now my 2 least favourite Coen movies star George Clooney. Reviews said it would be funny but I didn’t crack a smile once. I mean, it wasn’t exactly lacklustre or offensive or tedious but it wasn’t witty, urbane or sharp either (as promised). Mr Clooney has lovely skin though.

On Saturday in Blackpool we had three entertainment choices. Choice number 1 was Jello Biafra (of the Dead Kennedys, my 14th favourite band of 1979) at Blackpool Football Club Lounge. Choice number 2 was a DJ set by Massive Attack at Blue and choice number 3 was The Hot Ice Show at the Pleasure Beach Arena. Guess which one we did! Nothing we like more than watching boys with buns of steel race around an ice rink jumping really high in the air. The show was a little bit Cirque Du Soleil, a little bit Blue Man Group and a little bit Torvill and Dean. Most entertaining. During the full-on Vegas finale the snow machines in the roof were switched on and the whole scene became so beautiful and too fabulous and I fainted.
As you can see below, I recovered enough to enjoy a little session with Darren on the ice after the show.