Why I hate cars

Hey, have you got money that you just don't need for anything else like food or rent or paying heating bills? Do you want to invest in something that will instantly lose money as soon as you have bought it?

Then buy a car!

Guess what - once you've bought it you have to then pay twice as much as the car's worth to insurance in case of fire, theft, swarms of upholstry-loving locusts or just in case god decides he doesn't really like you anymore.

And for those of you who totally hate having money, you can tax it too so that the roads that you drive it on can be maintained in the appalling, patchwork state you're accustomed to.

For the money I have paid for my car I expect the streets to be gilded and lined with truffles and my insurance company to offer me a foot massage twice a month.

AM I BEING UNREASONABLE!?

Please do not answer that.

What if twins had evil twins?

It's good not to talk, sometimes

The weirdo magnet is back. Firmly attached to my forehead and beckoning in strange people from all across London town.

The other day a toothless wonder followed me off the bus and asked 'Have you just finished work?" - yes, I say - "Can I have your number then?" Dude, it's just not that easy. And was it a conditional question...what would have happened if I'd have said no to his first question?!

Not that I get chatted up a lot (if you can call the above being chatted up) but it reminded me of all the other classic lines that I have heard as a result of the weirdo magnet. Here are my other faves:

1. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I want to take you for a romantic meal...to MacDonalds

2. Girls with glasses can be really attractive too.

3. You look like sex.

4. Are you a lesbian? I just want to check so I don't waste my time.

Swoon!

The rain it raineth every day

Why is it raining today? Can I just remind Britain that it is meant to be summer right now. Only ducks, gardeners and weirdos like the rain. The only redeeming feature of rain is that it is a natural scourge to pigeons.

I consider myself an animal lover, but pigeons are a notable exception, and this is why:

1. They appear to have no reasonable place in any food chain. Because they are mangy crapsacks with wings, not even a scavenging fox would touch a pigeon, so they are not low in the food chain. Even so, they might be at the top of a chain, controlling the population of creatures lower down, but they're not. Pigeons eat crumbs, baguette ends, and street sick. Unless there's some killer baguette plague that scours the UK, I doubt that we can say that pigeons are keeping these natural dough-based predators at bay.

2. Despite the fact that QI said that they have good eyesight, I fail to see how this is true, as at least one seems to try to fly into my head on a daily basis.

3. Have you seen their feet?

I rest my case, your Honour.

Stoppit and eat love hearts

Earlier today a colleague of mine misheard another talking about Queens Park Rangers - he heard 'Queens Power Rangers'. How awesome would that be if the queen really did have Power Rangers?! "Don't touch the cucumber sandwich, ma'am, the evil Princess Michael of Kent is still at large and contaminating canapés across Westminster. We can't be too careful about this."

That's all well and good, but for a start they would have to be a lot more careful than the original Power Rangers as, from what I remember as a kid, they smashed up cities in the process of getting the baddies without so much as a by your leave. You'd never see that kind of crap on an episode of Stoppit and Tidyup. I think the exit credits should have shown the rangers with big bin liners and a giant rubbish grabbers cleaning up the debris to set a good example to children. Boy George got community service just for wasting police time - what would have happened if he'd smashed up a city like the Power Rangers? It doesn't bear thinking about.

***
In other news, I am baking cup cakes for a friend's hen do tomorrow, which I am quite excited about.
People seem to have ignored my other idea of wearing chicken hats all day so that we are all proper hens. I genuinely can't understand it - just look how happy this guy looks! So for the cupcakes I'm going to put love hearts on top of each one, but I can't help but notice two key things about love hearts:

1. Some of them are nothing to do with love ('Email' - that's a verb or a noun, not an expression of love.)
2. Some of them are nothing to do with the 21st Century ('Fax me' - seriously?!)

So I think I may write to Swizzels-Matlow with my suggestions for more up to date and realistic things to put on love hearts...

1. Swap "I'm shy" for "It's not you, it's me"
2. Swap "Good pals" for "Commitment-phobe"
3. Swap "Call me" for "Flirt-divert"
4. Swap "You're gorgeous" for "Beer goggles"
5. Swap "All yours" for "Clingy"
6. Swap "Email me" for "Three day rule"
7. Swap "Dream boy" for "Mummy's boy"
8. Swap "It's love" with "It's a girl"
9. Swap "Will you" with "No"
10. Swap "Wicked" with "Illegal in some states of America"

OK maybe not the last one...

Happy Friday everyone. x

We're hard, but he's a cycle-path

Apologies for starting the post with the end of a bad joke, but cycle-path is definitely the word to describe 80% of cyclists in London. I walked to King's Cross from work this afternoon, and noticed that cyclists in the capital don't follow the Green Cross code, but maybe the Red Cross code, also known as 'How to get killed using just a bicycle.'

I remember a bit of a hoo-ha in the press last year when good old David Cameron donned his best bicycle clips (swoon) and went on a bike tour around London - only to go through about 87 red lights and cycle the wrong way down a one way street (tip for Dave - clue's in the name.) We can only wish that his gaff wasn't representative of most of the cyclist in C. London, but it is.

Chapter one of 'How to get killed using just a bicycle' was demonstrated to me by a guy I saw today. I can only assume it's chapter one, because it seems that what he did was the most obvious way to get yourself a meeting with St Peter.

1. Find a busy central London junction with traffic lights.
2. Cycle down the wrong side of the road to overtake those vehicles who stop at red lights.
3. Forget what red light means, or indeed block out the traffic lights altogether. Red lights are for losers, right?
4. Still on the wrong side of the road, cycle into the junction in front of a double decker bus to make a right hand turn.
5. Lay back, knee in armpit, and hope that you come back as a ghost so you can appear on 'Most Haunted' with Yvette Fielding.

I just can't help feeling there might be easier ways to connect with her. Maybe she's on twitter or something?

Now I don't want to end on a sour note, so here's David Cameron in his cycle gear. Hubba. Hubba. No need to thank me.

Thoughts for the day

Today I thought I should get a new blog (and here it is). I also spent the afternoon looking at puggles (cross breed of a pug and a beagle) because they are SUPER cute! I would quite like one. Except for the limitations of a) living in a flat with wooden floors; and b) as a rule I don't like dogs because they smell, well, doggy.

I've taken up hula hooping recently, but how in the name of the lord did hula hoops end up being £15? And what does Davina McCall know about what constitutes and ergonomically and aerobically sound hula hoop? I feel I've been hoodwinked.

Speaking of hoods, and a bit more topically, I also just wanted to mention:

1. Looting. Seriously? Are you Dick Turpin? The 17th Century called, it wants its occupation back. I'm wondering if the looters are transporting their swag on the bandwagon they've all jumped on.

2, Apparently Primark has been ransacked by the looters. How would anyone know, it looks like that anyway.

I'm off to wash up, eat a bit of cake and prepare myself to watch Franklin and Bash on E4. Talk about nostalgia - check it out to see how Zack from Saved by the Bell and Travis from Clueless developed into pure hotness.