In my job we’re always dabbling in wordplay, pithy quips and witty puns to try and put across our point. The enemy of these three is the cliche – trite, overused, all-too-common ways of saying things that have lost the power of their meaning. The problem with cliches is that they are based in a … Continue reading »
Tagged with buses …
Number three at Breakfast Club
Honestly I feel completely hardcore. I’ve gone from having no dates AT ALL in two years, to having three with brand new men in less than four weeks. Number three was a product of the Greenbelt lock and key debacle, a nice guy who wasn’t offended by the exercise too much to get in contact after … Continue reading »
Another FMOTB on the bus of dreams
Today the whole city laboured under yet another Tube strike. For the regular bus traveller like me, this normally doesn’t cause too much inconvenience. The bus is generally a bit fuller and it takes a bit longer as the whole of London climbs into its cars and onto its bikes and tries to navigate to … Continue reading »
Scandal at Scandal Point
After two days of rest rest rest, saying Oms, eating momos, admiring dreadlocks and watching eagles next to the mountain, it was time to head back down. But first, we were going to Shimla, the summer residence of the British Raj. What a weird place it was, not like India at all, but more like … Continue reading »
Dharamsala and the Dalai Lama
I climbed to Dharamsala too I did I met the highest lama His accent sounded fine To me, to me Oxford comma, Vampire Weekend After travelling first class (for only fifteen pounds and being fed regularly every half hour of a five hour journey) on our way to Amritsar – we were in for a … Continue reading »
Telling tales
A lot of the action in Tamara Drewe centres around a writer’s retreat, I imagine somewhere in Dorset, where frustrated authors, as yet unpublished, are allowed to struggle away with their individual artistic angst, under the watchful eye of Beth, who bakes, and her famous novelist husband, Nicholas. It’s a very wry look at middle … Continue reading »
Labour of love
Gonna withdraw my labour of love Gonna strike for the right to get into your cold heart Ain’t gonna work for you no more Ain’t gonna work for you no more Hue and Cry There was a Tube strike yesterday in London and the whole city literally groaned. Strikes make life a little bit more … Continue reading »
Me and the girl from… Balham??
After two years and nine months of being the girl from Clapham, I’ve thrown a spanner in the works and moved south to Balham. O Clapham! With your yummy mummies drinking coffee on the Northcote Road, your sophisticated French couples drinking wine on Abbeville Road, the sunbathers on Clapham Common and the joggers who endless … Continue reading »
The Fit Man on the Bus: the Beginning of a Beautiful Relationship?
Apparently, Cherie Booth fell in love with Tony Blair on a bus. If you were to listen to my friends, you would have to believe that my wordless encounter with the Fit Man on the Bus had the potential to be a relationship as momentous for the nation as that of our former Prime Minister … Continue reading »
The Fit Man on the Bus: my continuing ignorance
Bloody men are like bloody buses – You wait for about a year And as soon as one approaches your stop Two or three others appear. You look at them flashing their indicators, Offering you a ride. You’re trying to read the destinations, You haven’t much time to decide. If you make a mistake, there … Continue reading »
