Archive for June, 2007


Aren’t I supposed to be going to bed at three.. and not getting up?

That can’t be right.

It’s all coming upon me again as the excitement I feel about working gets into fisticuffs with ‘outside, bad…inside, good’

Bloody Nora.. I have to go shopping for clothes. I have to find that one perfect shirt and buy 10 of them.

The last perfect shirt lasted me 2 albums and a couple of tours… and day wear.

It longs to be retired.

This is the perfect way of dressing for me. (other than you have to assure your companions daily, that whilst it is indeed identical, it is not the same shirt that you had on yesterday.)

It requires no thought and no pursed lipped mirror gazing.


Shit, but I’m fat.

Not that imaginary pop world fat, that the truly beautiful and talented Lilly Allen sees on herself.

The type of self-image that gets thrown upon a regular girl from the taunting, self-satisfied suck-chicks, who pluck and baste themselves in a tragic frenzy…. no…real fat.

I am the real deal. I should be banned from the NHS and taxed more.



Trouble with having a website, and making connection with people who are interested in you, for whatever reason… is that you are drawn to looking at images of yourself.

I have been reminded of certain performances, and have gone to look to see how I felt about them retrospectively.

This never happened before computers. Not for me.

Before computers I answered mail.

I polished my desk.


There is also, along with the brilliant support and loyalty that I know I will encounter… a slightly masochistic tip to these outings.

I am interested to know what will sting me.

I have from time to time, pulled off my own toe nail to see if I could bear it.

Polish that, you manicurist….

(sorry if that makes you retch…well, no, not that sorry)


Anyway, as much as being fat grieves me for the simple fact, and admittedly not the only one, that it makes the bi-decade shopping expedition more torturous, it does not, after years of lame and tired name calling – sting.


..back to the WWW…

The last comment I noted was ‘great song / voice ( I can’t remember which)..but no, she’s much too fat’


…and i thought, nothing wrong with your spacial awareness friend, but…. too fat for what?


If, after hearing my dulcet tones you found me to be pleasingly proportioned, were you preparing to take me pony trekking?


Are you looking for a singer to go pot-holing with?


Have I missed out on the chance in a million, to be the muse for your squinty-eyed, self-pleasuring quest?

If only I hadn’t eaten that pie, I could have been loved by you.


Why didn’t I work more in my thin 90’s? Yes, ok, not thin enough to save Girls Aloud from suicide, but just fine for me.



 The record is nearly finished and I am an aural beauty!

Soon you can listen to it, and then occupy yourselves loving the one you’re with.