THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ERNEST

A little insight into one of my fabulous friends, Omi... read her insightful blog post here about the colourful characters she meets, this week Ernest and his lover, while waiting for the No.4 bus in Portland.

I do hope No.4 becomes a regular slot.

I also wonder if Ernest thought Omi was as odd as she perceived him to be...

Omi & I

TOWIE HUFF

Tom Pearce, side kick of Joey Essex and blue eyed star of The Only Way is Essex, comments on the recession...

"It can be put simply: a state of collective euphoria and excessive risk taking in an increasing globalised economy means that small ripples on one side of the world will eventually be felt on the other. This is due to how inter-connected our modern day global financial system is. Our politicians are not just making decisions that will affect our domestic economy but all of those which are connected around the world. A much more daunting task than it was 30 years ago.
How do we fix it? What do I know... I'm just a reality TV star"

Full article here http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/mobileweb/tom-pearce/towie-tom-pearce_b_1599171.html

R A N T

I need to figure out a way to rock shorts without the aid of two pairs of 80 denier black tights and four inch door wedges shuved under my heels. When did cleavage become an un-fashionable erongenous zone, eh? I blame idiots like Katie Price for making breasts into laughable orange objects straped to the font of womens chests like swim floats.

So why legs? I have knees that look like the faces of over fed sulky teenagers with bad skin. It's all about long, glowing, satin touch legs and, apparently, no breasts. I no longer am able to recall a time when I could "get away with" not wearing a bra. And why does everyone love loose razor back vests so much? I fucking deteste them, all they do is make my waist look the same width as my hips.

Fuck it. I'm bringing back hips and breast and teeny tiny waists cause that's all I got to go on.

N E G L E C T

Sorry! I've been battling which harrowing mental issues like 'which dress should I keep and which should I return?' and 'why don't they have them in a size 38?'. If this isn't enough throw the Selfrdiges summer sale into the mix, which by the way starts on Monday at 8am for those of you sadistic enough to want to go. To make matters worse I had to endure a grueling live 20 minutes of Daisy Dares You. Yea we had no idea who she was either.



She was born in 1993 and so you have probably switched off by this point. Anyway, with this in mind I don't believe that she can truly bring anything new or communicate anything of little integrity in her music. Sorry love! If she did, she wouldn't be saying it through promo gigs with a team of PR people pulling her strings.

The best bit though which actually made me feel a huge wave of embarrassment and hilarity all at the same time. This was the group of ten or so blond DDY look-a-likey's, all sporting crop tops, large headphones and dancing to the sound of deadly silence.

Whoever was behind that PR & Marketing idea should be, well...