Better late than never...

...for the Sunday Mirror.

Today it reports that a tenth planet, Sedna, has been discovered on the edge of our solar system and that the 'Egyptian' sand castles on Brighton beach may need to be pulled down due to a lack of planning permission.

Next week be prepared for the shock revelations about a Royal having an affair with some American woman & abdicating the throne and the start of World War 2.

Revenge is sweet

Or a dish best served cold. Whatever. Snidey little troll is really getting on my somewhat ample tits. Snidey comments here, deciding that when I do something she has a problem with it but if she & her mates do it that's ok (like all going to the canteen at the same time leaving me to field phone calls alone) there, ass kissing all over the place, referring to me as 'minger'...

Oh they think I don't know but thanks to a little slip-up by one of our managers, a very nice bloke called Tim who I once danced saucily with at a works do, I've put two and two together. I will hereby refer to the snidey troll as Fat Slag and her sycophantic, spineless mate as Fat Slag's Muppet. Tim was looking over Muppet's shoulder at something. "Minger's? Who's minger?" he questioned. "Shhh! Shhh!" Muppet said in a panicked way as if someone would overhear. I was the only one in earshot. Hmmm, wonder who it could be? I know it all sounds very petty and childish. You'd be right to think so. Basically, Fat Slag & Muppet are two young, terminally stupid girls whose minds haven't evolved beyond the playground and I'm their chosen target. So naturally I want revenge. And by god I'm going to get it.

Karma is already working its etherial magic. Fat Slag is pissing alot of people off lately. "Who the fuck does she think she is?" is a phrase I'm hearing frequently. But I want more. This afternoon/evening it started.

Fat Slag has been given our boss's digital camera to look after until he can pick it up. She's locked it in Muppet's drawer and Muppet put the key in Fat Slag's top drawer. I was the last person out of the office so I took the key out and put it in the next drawer down. Its in plain sight but in the wrong drawer. I'm not in work on Monday so they'll have a nice little panic when they realise the key isn't where Muppet left it but it shouldn't take them long to find it. Fat Slag also has a bag of clothes under her desk for some inexplicable reason. Two items have made their way into my possession and will be finding themselves in the charity shop first thing tomorrow.

I also know Fat Slag's address since I was invited to her house a couple of years ago. What do do with it though? I have several options;

1) Order pizza in her name.
2) Fill out her name in all those ads you get in the back of magazines for plastic surgery/catalogues/hearing aids & send them off (only the Freepost ones) so she gets loads of junk mail.
3) Design a flyer for a fabulous party at her house when I know she'll be in & hand them out in the local pubs. The local pubs being the roughest this side of Baghdad.
4) Send her porn catalogues (don't ask how I got them).
5) Send laxative-laced foodstuffs.

Oh so many to choose from. Which first? Any preferences? Any other fabulous suggestions? (nothing too illegal please)

Feel free to throw your rotten tomatoes at me I don't care.

Evil genius

Mwaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

*cough*

Right, I'm off down the chippy...

Straw - clutching

I've just joined an Eddi Reader webgroup where I appealed for an old friend of mine to get in touch. I managed to convert her to Eddi while we were mates at Uni but we've since lost touch. I thought I might put an appeal out on here too. So...

If you're trawling the net or if someone you know is could you please get in touch, Kelly Poole from Lincolnshire who was at De Montfort Uni studying drama 1994 - 1997.

(And yes, I have tried looking on Friends Reunited but she aint there.)

Its time.....

...for a post. So, whats been going on?

More online arguments though not quite as arsey as the last one. A chap posted one of those womens magazines surveys on a webgroup - 'How bi-curious are you?'. It contained the usual ignorant nonsense you get from a straight women's mag when talking about lesbianism but I was particularly incensed (sp?) by one question about preferred clothing which, to cut a long story short, said that if you liked wearing combats/boyish clothes you were automatically a dyke and if you liked girly clothes you had to be straight. Naturally, being a muncher of the rug myself, I posted that it was a load of bollocks. I was careful to say that I wasn't getting at the bloke who posted it and I tried to make it a bit humourous so's not to offend him. I might as well have not bothered. He immediately took offence and said I lacked a sense of humour. I posted again reiterating that I wasn't being arsey with him and trying to explain my reasons etc. I think this guy has a slight reading problem as he still maintained that my original post was aggressive at which point I simply quoted a line from my original post that said in one simple, straightforward sentence that I was sorry for the rant, I wasn't getting at him and that I was just angry at the ignorance of the survey writer. I've left it at that. If he still can't see that my anger wasn't personal then he's a stupid twat and I've wasted my time. Sigh.

I didn't used to be so argumentative but I've spent years not speaking up for myself and being walked all over by selfish, arrogant c**ts that I'm really damn sick of it. Which would bring me neatly on to the jumped up, snidey little troll that I have the misfortune to work with but I really can't be bothered right now.

My first directing effort went fairly well. I was so stomach-churningly terrified before we went on that I couldn't concentrate on the first play that we watched. Good job it was exactly the same play some of my compadres put on last year and I knew the script backwards. Our main male lead, bless him, was worried about forgetting lines (it was a big part, fnarr fnarr), and he did actually jump forward half a page of dialogue, then jumped back again which left me frantically thinking "How the hell are we going to get out of this?" but total and utter kudos to him he managed to jump forward again just at the point he should have been at. Phew. So, in Morecambe & Wise stylee, he said all the right words but not necessarily in the right order. The audience didn't laugh enough for my liking but then it wasn't a big belly laughs kind of play so I musn't grumble. We had a critic in from the local drama federation & she gave a talk about each play at the end of the evening. Talk about torture. The main niggle she had with ours was the set. Or lack of. Not enough atmosphere created by it. Could we have had a coffee table and armchairs and a small bar in one corner (the play was set in a hotel bar)? Well, no. Not when you're travelling 30 miles in a Corsa you can't. She didn't fault the acting, didn't comment on my directing or the moves really so I got off lightly. Not bad for a first effort. And despite giving their production staff instructions at the last minute they managed to run the lights and music as I'd wanted.

The music was from a new CD I've discovered recently. Nouvelle Vague they're called. I'd heard a cheesy listening version of Depeche Mode's 'Just Can't get Enough' on a car ad and wondered who they were. Then I heard a similar version of Teenage Kicks while watching Sugar Rush and finally caught a bit of them live on the Glastonbury coverage, thus finding out who they were. So I bought the CD which is a bunch of their cover versions of eighties songs in a bossa nova style. Its just so wonderful, strange and silly. Half the songs I didn't know as I hadn't heard the originals. The best by far is 'Making Plans for Nigel' which is sublime and chilled and lovely. Funniest is 'Too Drunk to Fuck' which is one of the ones I've never heard before but which I now can't stop singing. Its going round in my head right now in the lead singer's European accent, "Too drrrunk to fack..". Buy it, its fab.

Talking of fabness I saw the best ever ep of CSI last week in which a man in a raccoon suit is found dead at the side of a country road. Too many fab bits to mention but I think the whole ep must have been an excuse to get in the punchline at the end when Grissom comments, "Hmmm. Fur and loathing in Las Vegas!". I was also looking forward to the Quentin Tarantino two parter but due to the London bombings its been postponed by a week. Methinks the announcer gave the plot away a bit. She said that due to the nature of the plot and recent events it would be on next week. AFAIK the plot centres round one of the CSI team being buried alive - no bombings. Or is there? Have we been inadvertently spoilered? Only time will tell.

Eloquence...or lack of it

I haven't posted for a few days have I? I could've posted about my birthday and a somewhat socially busy weekend, the play which is on on Friday or this completely annoying little bitch that I have to work with but in the face of all thats gone on recently it all seemed a bit trite.

A Dear Jayne letter

Dearest lovely Jayne Dearsley of SFX magazine,

You know I think you're fab and its high time there was a column from a female viewpoint in SFX. The lads have had it their way far too long. But, oh dear Jayne. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. "Why do so many women watch Stargate SG1?" you ask. Then you go on to say that its because of the abundance of male totty. I'm shaking my head in disappointment Jayne. Why? Because with that article you're just reaffirming all those stereotypes that the lads have of us. We only watch it for the beefcake. No, women could never watch it because its well written, funny, exciting, scary at times and doesn't take itself too seriously. Oh no. Women don't like SF per se, we just want to ogle the hunks in combats. We should just go back to watching our Sex and the City, Desperate Housewives and Celebrity Love Island and leave the boys alone with their spaceships and explosions. Well, ok, you didn't say that in so many words but you may as well have.

And then there's the assumption that all Stargate fans are straight... I for one would rather ogle the women in combats but actually that's not the only reason I watch.

Did the boys make you write that? I'm hoping you didn't mean everything you said in that article. That maybe it was satirical in some way.

Or maybe you wrote it to deliberately infuriate female readers, stir up a bit of controversy and get people writing in. If that's the case then there's nothing left for me to say but,

"You are Julie Burchill and I claim my five pounds!"

Barclaycard moment

A half of lager in the pub - 90p

5 songs on the jukebox - £1

Getting the better of a bloke who thinks that just because you're a girl you don't know anything about music - Priceless!

Me, my best mate and her mother-in-law (also a friend of mine) went to the pub after rehearsal on Thursday for a couple of snifters. There were a group of blokes sitting next to us who'd put on a rather good selection of music - The Police, The Clash... One of their songs was Teenage Kicks and one of the younger blokes was racking his brains trying to remember who it was by. His mates weren't offering him any help so I said "Its the Undertones" to which he said thanks and they seemed a bit impressed. The next song was The Passenger to which one of his older mates said, "Go on then, who's this by?" in a slightly sneering way and not expecting me to answer. "Iggy Pop" I said nonchalantly. The look on his face was a picture. Absolutely gutted.