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BY the time you read this, I’ll be gone.
I WAS idly flicking through the obituaries some time ago when I came across something that made me stop in my tracks – my photograph.
I have always found it strange that beauty pageants evoke such fierce emotion in people.
I HAVE to rid myself of all my sleaze and crassness.
SOME people have a strange attitude to money. I am very bad in this area – I can spend £20 walking down the road and yet have nothing to show for it.
MEETING Katie Price was an interesting experience.
THERE is a kind of woman who I can immediately tell is a boat person.
In the long distant days before journalism I had dipped my toe in a few industries.
THIS week I have been very sick. I have had a cold and a bad back. I suspect these conditions are interrelated.
Ah the country – fresh air, animals … and hot women.
“But what if I get left on the shelf?”
“We met in winter, and we fell in love…”
ON FIRST hearing about the royal wedding many people thought about love, the future of the monarchy and a possible extra bank holiday.
THE ability to make the perfect cup of coffee. This is a skill few realise the importance of and even less possess.
SITTING astride my stallion, I watched a blazing red sun sink behind the mountains and manfully tilted my hat.
SOME TIME ago I was given a book called A List of Things to Do Before You Die.
IT is one of the most chilling of children’s tales. A man tortured by ghoulish apparitions from his past.
“Why do you want to put a poisonous tarantula on your head?”
“SO.... if you saw a man put on sunglasses would you assume he was doing it just so he could watch you jiggle?”
IT is more than 350 years since the first cheerful little coffee bean found its way to British shores.
THE destination for the first date is perilous decision that could make or break a fledgling romantic acquaintance, or at least increase the amount of time it takes before you achieve victory.
WHEN you are little, cartoons are the best thing in the world. I remember as a toddler being appalled when my programming was interrupted by sport, sitcoms or heaven forbid, news.
“FAME is the perfume of heroic deeds.”
THE colour pink, chocolate...
and now Sarah Jessica Parker.
“You’ve never seen Ghost?”
I was appalled to find anyone of my age could have missed this 80s classic.
STUNNING landscapes, fine wines and one extremely hot
woman. These are just a few of the delights of a recent trip to the French region of Burgundy.
I HAVE had a week filled with birthdays, pregnancies and random celebrations.
AN old adage says honesty is always the best policy.
THIS week I have become worried about my dwindling fitness levels.
I HATE fancy dress parties. I don’t
like putting on costumes, wearing
make-up or contributing to someone
else’s contrived idea of wackiness.
IT is often said the waiting game is the hardest to play.
IT was a beautiful summer’s day.
These were the words going through my mind as I peered over the edge of the tower with what was essentially a large elastic band around my ankles.
EVERYONE has parts of their body they are unhappy with.
WHO would have thought an off-colour conversation would have started a chain of events destined to have such consequences?
So there we have it. Yet another new year I have seen in as a singleton. However, this time around I refused to be a victim of the cruel date.
THE first snowflake that hits the grounds affects children and adults differently.
The other day I did something I swore I would never do.
A PROSTITUTE, a murder and a tiny vial of blood.
“I like a man who likes the outdoors.” I watched as the other attractive women in the group nodded in agreement.
“YOU can tell a lot about what a man is like in bed by the way he dances.”
I WAS called spiritually bankrupt this week.
I WAS thumbing through my anthology of singles columns and chuckling at the humorous nuggets within when I noticed something troubling.
CLAMMY, ruffled and reeking of the public. This was no condition in which to be going on a date.
I have reached that age.
All men know it is there on the horizon.
IT was a fine summer’s evening as I put the ice cold beer to my lips.
A SEA of red and white shirts and a jam-packed pub. This was no surprise, as many of those were hot women wrapped in flags and covered in face paint.
“French impressionism...I thought that meant there would be a mime.”
THERE has to be a reason for the sorry state of my current affairs.
IT is time for a clear out. Not of the old pizza boxes and random women’s underwear that litter my living quarters. No, it is my social networking site that needs a spring clean.
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PREPARE to hit the theatrical high roads as the Echo can exclusively reveal that Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang will return to Southampton next year!