Snatchshot

Cheryl Tweedy-Cole-Fernandez-Versini has a new single, and her snatch, out. Look, see:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2775713/Cheryl-Fernandez-Versini-feisty-new-single-I-Dont-Care.html

That first photo should be captioned, “Nurse pet, Ahm propa reddy for me smear,like !”

Strictly Happy – George Sad

It’s going to be a VINTAGE Strictly year. The first shows were so good that fora nanosecond I stopped grieving about this being the weekend when George Clooney marries divine international human rights lawyer, and wearer of big earrings, Amal Alamuddin.

Let’s romp through the dances in no particular order. No, stuff that, let start with the ones that made me laugh most:

Humpty Dumpty Greg clearly makes Aliona want to throw up. After just one week he is almost a dead cert for the 2014 Fiona Phillips Dance Like A Fridge Freezer Award. Maybe he should wear his glasses so he can see what his feet are doing? Just a thought…..

Be ready to be surprised – Judy Murray is SCOTTISH – a pair of haggis earrings for her would have made that crystal clear to viewers. Just in case the tartan, the bagpipes and the Mull of Kintyre hints didn’t help.

The dances that made me smile the most:

Alison Hammond for her joyousness, her rhythm, her bounce and her confidence and for not once, in what she said or did, apologising for being fat.

Jennifer Gibney who felt the fear and did it anyway with a huge grin on her face. Although she did dance like a woman with a live mouse stuck to her shoe.

As for the rest, Steve Backwhowhat? danced mostly with his face and someone break it to Ola that she dressed up a month early for Halloween.

According to the papers Thom Evans and Iveta are already doing a spot of horizontal dancing in their own time. Just imagine what big browed babies they would have.

Who knew Yorrick could dance? Alas I got it wrong last week and said Jake Wood was rubbish. I didn’t knew him well. Sorry..

Mark Wright was just Alwright and needs to learn to look ecstatic even if he gets scored four 1’s.

Scott Mills needs to stop looking like Chucky so I can concentrate on his dancing.

The wardrobe department obvs got a good price on a job lot of sparkly vests for the blokes. And whoever designed and fitted Jeanette’s sabotage dress wants to bed her partner Alijaz. It was GRUESOME.

And Darcey was looking positively Angela Ripponesque. Ditch the helmet hair dahhhlinhg, yah?

I LOATHE it when Claudia and Tess talk in unison. Male presenters would never do that.

And I’m starting to dislike the newly liberated from Bruce Tess, a lot, and it’s only Week One. The woman’s jiving on his telly grave. And I bet she says “I’m my favourite!” before she goes to sleep every night.

Hurry Up already next week.

Tesco and Tickles

Lawdy. I have just called the customer service number for Tesco Car Insurance and got the usual automated reply.

Only it wasn’t usual at all. The woman in the recording sounded so jolly it was like she’d just sucked in a alotalot of laughing gas and someone was tickling her as she read her script.

Happy doesn’t even begin to describe her near hysteria as she advises which buttons to press.

After yesterday’s news about profits and twiddly diddly dealings and crashing market values I’m guessing she’s not a shareholder.

Swapping Spit

When this country next has another woman Prime Minister, or Leader of the Opposition, will it still be obligatory at party conference time for them to have a staged snog?

Watching Justine and Ed lock skinny wet lips today after his keynote speech reminded me of the time I had to get rid of a slug on my patio and there was a sticky, suckering moment.

A wave, a wink, a thumbs up, a booty shake, making a heart shape with their forefingers and thumbs – surely anything would be better than swapping spit for the cameras?

Toegate

Last night at the theatre I sat next to a woman (straggly blonde, crochet waistcoat,fringed skirt 1960’s reject) who put her heels up on the back of the seat in front of her and with her toes repeatedly tapped the grey curls of the bloke sat there.
It took him about a minute to turn around, I was amazazed by his forbearance. If a stranger placed her toenails on my scalp I would have sprung into action faster than that.
What a gent. He whispered “Would you mind?”
So she slid her feet down about eight inches and hooked them, monkey style, over the back of his seat.This meant that her big toes were pressing into his shoulder blades.
I waited for him to take off one of his shoes and bang it down on her feet in a frenzied resonse to her space invasion. He didn’t.
The play, True West at The Tricycle, couldn’t begin to compete with the toegate drama in the stalls.

‘Before I Go to Sleep’ the film – Forget It !

Last night I went to the cinema to see ‘Before I Go to Sleep’ and was shocked by just what a bad fringe, bad coat loada hokum film it is.

I won’t do any spoilers; lets just say us cinema goers were spoilt with snort-fest moments. My favourite is when Nicole Kidman gets chased down a pier by a Doctor who is holding a hypodermic syringe aloft. And I’m guessing she was being paid per pout? Ker-ching.

The novel by SJ Watson, which I gobbled up,is a literary phenomenomenomenomena (that’s a huge phenomena) and shows that the power of a good book can usually smash a film, even when a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Brownie ice cream is factored in.

Strictly Take Off

Ten minutes into Strictly and it was a case of Brucie who? It was only when he wasn’t there that I realised just how much he had slowed the show down.

I’ve dumped Claudess for Tessia to describe the lashes and lips combo of Tess and Claudia. I liked them last night even though Claudia seemed to be having an out of body experience and kept a too beady eye on the autocue.

And so the line up lined up:

Boiled egg head Gregg was obvs the booby prize for the female pros – and Aliona carried on like her puppy had died when she was paired with him. Doesn’t she know that the first rule of Strictly is that you carry on like you’ve won the euromillions when you’ve been paired with a fat, bald lech?

Jake Wood is aptly named for Strictly. And what a great skull he has for Halloween week. The first look at him in the group dance suggests he is an early contender for the 2014 Fiona Phillips Dance Like a Fridge Freezer Award. And gosh isn’t Jeanette fizzy. This could be explained by the fact that she is Alijash’s bedmate.

Wildlife bloke to dull to merit a sentence other than is Ola wasted on him?

Thom needs to stand up straight so we can get a good look at his navel and surrounds.

New dancer Joanne from Grimsby (Kevin’s sister) is small and mighty

Which brings us to Alison Hammond who is mighty smiley

Rachel Riley must be thrilled her Pasha got the short shorts wearing Caroline Flack

When Irish legs are dancing – I predict Jennifer and Tristan will be a good laff

Pixie and Trent – blonde bombshells of the world unite

Simon Webb says he’s there to win and is the 62nd sexiest man alive. Yawn.

Tim Wonacott will answer one of the great unsolved mysteries of the universe – how do you stop your glasses sliding off your nose when you sweat

Who is the Pilsbury Dough boy they called Scott Mills?

Mark Abitofallwright got Karen, Judy Murray is going to be ballsy and I’m liking Sunetra

How did Frankie get time off school to do Strictly?

Smokey Robinson and Dot Cotton – spot the difference?

And the group dance made the year’s wait worth it. The fear, the footfaults, the terrified smiles and having a poo faces – it was short but so sweet.

Thick and Thin aka Claudess

I’m back! Want to know where I’ve been? Google ‘Stevens Johnson syndrome’ – nuff said.

And so is Strictly this Sunday.

Thick and Thin will be the new presenters and I’m giving them a big chance. It’s great that Claudess* have got the primetime power, but only if they’re terrific.
*Is there enough jewel coloured satin in the entire world to keep that pair floor length frocked up for 12 weeks?

Poor Brucie. I never stopped laughing at his jokes. But that was because I never started laughing at his jokes. Now he can be grumpy on Saturday nights off the licence payer’s shilling.

The 2014 line up makes me feel like Mother Time. It wouldn’t get sponsorship from Sanatogen. The BBC’ll be recruiting toddlers from Play Schools next, sticking tots in sequinned babygros and teaching them to do ‘Head,Shoulders,Knees and Toes’ for the group dances.

And the wonderfulwonderful Dave Arch and his band will be fully defrosted and ready to cook by Sunday at 6pm.

Yippppppppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! See you On Monday to chew it all over.

Hot Lips

It’s all India Knight’s fault.She recommended Lord and Berry’s eye kohl in her Sunday Times column and like the product lemming I am, I ordered it. She praised how deep black it is, and easy to apply.
It’s not in pencil form but comes in a lipstick case.

The other night I went to the theatre with a friend to see ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ being slaughtered by a cast of British hammers. When the end was thankfully nigh I reached into my bag found my lipstick and applied it in the dark.

The lights came up and my friend turned to me, raised her eyebrows and said “What the F**k?” I nodded and said “Totally” thinking she was referring to the stoopid interpretation of the play. Outside the theatre we air kissed and went our separate ways.

On the bus home I was thinking to myself that I must be looking mighty fine in the hair, face and clothes departments because I got a lot of looks, and second looks from my fellow passengers.

Mr Anna May was asleep when I got in so I made a cup of Horlicks watched Celebrity Big Brother for the first time and thought Kellie Maloney was Lorraine Kelly’s grandma. Then it was lights off downstairs and up to the bathroom to do the teeth and hair brushing and face wash routine.

I am still laughing at what I saw in the mirror. In the theatre I hadn’t applied my fuschia pink lippy, instead I had slathered my lips in creamy black kohl.

Soggy Sandals

It’s that time of the decade – Mr Anna May needs a new pair of Sandals for our upcoming mini break in the Midlands. The ones he has been wearing for nine and a half years have splayed out like kippers.

He won’t shop for anything at all, so the way we roll is that he describes what it is he wants and I go get them for him – either online or in person.

What do you think was the man’s number one requirement for a pair of summer sandals ? Mine would be lightweight, or cool, or colourful, or stylish, or maybe strappy.

Mr Anna May wanted his sandals to be waterproof.

Do you see what I am dealing with?