There's nothing sweet about me.

So much to tell you and so much time to tell you it in, so PHEW.

I've just come back from Bournemouth having visited my baby nephew who is becoming sweeter by the day. Something peculiar has happened to my chest though. Not my CHESTS, but my chest, the bit above those.

It's gone all leathery like one of those muttony women who cook themselves on the beach. Its looks all plucked chickeny and stuff... Age seems to be creeping up on me - soon I won't be able to pass for a young sprite in my hip MTV clothes. Oh well just gonna keep slapping on the moisturiser, also if its gets out of control on my face I'm going to have one of those chemical peels I've seen on "10 years younger" that make you look like Hannibal Lector. That oughta draw the lads in.

Here is a picture of me and my Neff:



He was having paddling pool fun and I was helping him do splashing.




Ah he sweet.

In other news my email to Loose Women was read out live on air yesterday by Colleen Nolan. The subject was something very close to my throbbing heart. That's right, femininity. The subject was, do you think that independent women lose some of their femininity by being all independent and that. This is something I agree with. As usual Carol Mcgiffin disagreed (she would) but honest, its true.

I was just saying about this the other day to a mate of mine, cause especially in London (which is the loneliest place in the whole kingdom), as a single female living on me' own trying to make an honest buck so that I can live the life of Reilly with or without a man - I find that the downside to that is having to harden up to get on in life. This to me takes away alot of my female lady vibes (which I have much of reader).

Anyway - I am forced to be all strong and independent (like Destiny's Child) and lads like girls who aren't hard faced bitches weirdly enough. Likewise I want a man who is going to look after me a bit and be all manly and pass the INTRUDER TEST and right now, if any intruders come in to my home I'd beat them with my handy baseball bat. Now thats not very lady-like is it? What a to do.

OMG - I saw Kevin Spacey last night on the Southbank. I heard him first and thought "I'd know that American sexual voice anywhere - Kevin?" And yes it was indeed him. We walked past him twice feigning that our "friend, Jeff" had turned up. We waved at imaginary Jeff and managed to sneakily watch Kevin chatting with his pal TWICE.

On Saturday I joined the Library and it was weird for when I went to fill out the form the librarian kindly offered if I wanted to sit down - as I did this I met the eyes of a man on the internet. Naturally my eyes flickered to his computer monitor and lo and behold there was a picture of a bare lady on there spreading her legs to reveal ALL. He didn't even look embarrassed. Surely there should be filters at these places?

The rest of the week sees me being all peaceful and quiet. Sunday I have a gig in Portsmouth MCing and a couple of pals are coming along to support me (they're from Portsmuff) so that's really cool. Then next week it's Catface Comedy at the Slaughtered Lamb, you better bring it.

Bye then.