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Move to Mars

See Ann Widdecombe dance

Think I complain a lot?

The Yarn

Wednesday 1.8.01

Anyone who read my disastrous phone interview with Selfridges on the 12th July will have come to the same conclusion as me, in other words that I hadn't got the job. However, there is light at the end of the tunnel yet: I now am to attend a scary 'assessment interview" on Friday morning. So, there IS light, but it may be an oncoming train. We'll see.


Thursday 2.8.01

Another cracker from Dubya-over-the-pond: 'In order for there to be peace in the Middle East, the violence needs to end.' Thanks, George. Another scintillating insight, then, into the mind of the moron. Talking of scintillation, or lack of it, has anyone else noticed the sheer amount of press coverage the Queen mum is getting because she's not very well? It may not be my place to say, but just because the old girl's knackered and getting a bit under the weather, surely doesn't mean she should be top of every news agenda in the country? The BBC spent about 10 minutes on it yesterday, which seems to me both intrusive and excessive. I know she's the Queen mother, but there are other things going on in the world, perhaps things which are every so slightly more important, like, oh well, you know, the odd war here and there, people dying in Orissa because of the floods, Mount Etna threatening a whold town, that sort of triviality...


Friday 3.8.01

I knew there was something which I wanted to rant about yesterday, but I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was. So, now, slightly out of date, I have to say that the Government's victory over Ken Livingstone about the tube is a complete disaster. Hasn't the fact that a similar system (i.e. privatisation) all but destroyed our rail network got anything to say about Tony flogging off London Underground? Of course private companies blatantly put profit before safety. They have to make money, and, in most cases, they want to make as much as possible. Let it be on the government's conscience when people are dying in the tunnels under London in a few years time, then.


Saturday 4.7.01

I realise that I began to sound like a treacherous melange of Bernard Levin and Tony Benn yesterday. Actually, that all brings me neatly onto today's pointlessness: a link to politicalcompass.org which tells you where you swing in the political jungle, so to speak. It was sent to me by Tom 'Evil Spill' Hill - this is the guy who manages to combine being ageist, sexist, racist, homophobic and xenophobic all while telling me that I am a Bolshevik for studying European languages. Go figure - I personally suspect that he is an old african lesbian inside. Anyway, I did the test, and got the results, just to prove him wrong. So here's what I want you do to: mail me and tell me where you think I ended up. Answers tomorrow...


Sunday 5.8.01

I wondered yesterday whether my comments would provoke a deluge, or whether, in fact, nobody could give a crap. I think the second is more likely. To be honest, I'm not sure quite how accurate the whole thing is, anyway. But if you were wondering, I came out (as it were) definitely on the libertarian side of things, and ever so slightly left-wing. I suppose this makes me somehow equal to Tony Blair, and this is where I think the test fails, because I don't believe a single word that comes out of his machinating chops...


Monday 6.8.01

I've got this cunning theory which I've been dwelling on for about a week now. Before you tell me it's bollocks, hear me out: there is at least one outrageously gay character in every single Disney film. I mean, Sebastian the crab is the Julian Clary of the seas. The seven dwarves were dodgy. That adviser-bird in the Lion King. The three gargoyles in Notre Dame. Quite what the significance of all this is I'm not sure, but it's diverting anyway...


Tuesday 7.8.01

With Jane's help, I have come to the inescapable and irrevocable conclusion that I am a slag.


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