Archive For The “modern culture” Category
Laughter, it’s said, is the best medicine and although I’m never ill, I do like to laugh a lot; granted, some may call my laugh more of a cackle, and, in extreme cases of hilarity, my head and upper torso can get quite loose and jerky too. Indeed, I have been known to accidentally head [...]
It was an exceedingly breezy day in London town but I did clock one pair of flip flops and a strappy top. Granted, I was in the Underground at the time where the air is a tad more balmy but even so… I fought the urge to push flip flop man under the Circle Line [...]
After a fun packed summer of deflated air beds, vicious stinging nettle injuries and a very wet bottom sustained while listening to moanie musicians on harps, I’ve got that back to school feeling; keep getting the urge to polish my shoes and cover my books with nasty wallpaper. I’m also scanning the local press for [...]
Summer means camping and camping is great fun, provided you like eating burnt things and don’t mind having a constant dribble of urine down your leg from badly executed al fresco weeing. A friend has very kindly given me her two-man pop-up tent. I have a practice pop-up in my back garden but am sadly [...]
Friend X has a proposition for me: do I want to be a supporting artiste on a short film being made in Brighton? I’m to play ‘mature lady at a dinner party’. Any opportunity to show off, thinks I although I’m not sure about the ‘mature’ bit. When I learn there’s nudity and tomfoolery with [...]
If you go down to the woods today, in floaty trousers and without a balaclava, you could end up with a weeping, distended eye socket and knees the size of watermelons. It all started innocently; friend X to me: ‘would you like to go on a ‘plant journey’ in the woods?’ Me: ’sounds like hippy [...]
It’s Open House season in Brighton. Or should I say, let’s be nosy and go and marvel at someone’s cornicing. An afternoon of Open Houses for me, is like going to an art gallery except you can’t say ‘that’s crap’ too loudly and the artists, far from being dead, are normally in situ, mingling, having [...]
