Friday 28 December 2007

Post Christmas, Pre 2008

Ah.

Back in London.

Being away from London makes you appreciate why you love it so much. Here are some reasons I have come across from my recent festive jaunt to Wales as to why London is better than the rest of Britain:

- it doesn't take the entire twelve days of Christmas to get a cab
- not everyone is a racist
- fashion does not function via chinese whispers
- shops are open at reasonable hours
- I have my own house

And some reasons (for the sake of fairness) why Swansea is better than London:

- drinks are cheap
- food is cheap
- cabs are cheap

Wednesday 19 December 2007

YO! so sue me!

I always get pretty excited by going to Yo! Sushi because I love sushi and I adore fun and they do a great line in fun sushi.

Additionally my very good Dutch-American globetrotting friend who has been residing in the land of the rising sun fr the past 6 months informs me that YO! Sushi is, in some ways, better than Japanese sushi. She informs me that their sashimis and the like are excellent, abundant and cheapy cheap, but that there is no so much creativity. For example - in Japan they do not really have things like Californian rolls.

Anyway, I was already delighted before we even sat down to eat, the whole experience only marred by the rather miserable fact that my pal was flying off and I probably wouldn't see her for another 6 months. Aside from that I was beside myself with glee as I munched on raw fish and came up with this gem:

- you stole my sushi

- so sue me! (sashimi, geddit?)

Sunday 16 December 2007

I have always depended on the kindness of stangers...

I was quite surprised and amused by all the attention my harrowing hair nightmare received, I was particularly taken aback by the offer of a free coiffure from a professional salon.

I was a bit apprehensive about taking up the offer, after all I had just had someone practically defaecate over my head and claim that was what I had asked for.

I bit the bullet. I took the plunge. I dived in at the deep end. I grabbed the bull by the horns. And so on. I called and arranged an appointment.

To my stupendous relief it all worked out and my glorious beauty was reasserted.

Additionally I went back a week later and dyed my barnet blonde because I'm mentally ill. However, I love it. And a drunk stranger in a club informed me that he is a great fan of my do. So that's that.

Did you get the first clue in the treasure hunt? The answer was The Nutcase!

Here is the next:

Where a famous Scandinavian pop group meets
The biggest collection of pickles in the western world,
Take an orange to the counter, and its clue will be unfurled.

Festivity Ahoy!

Saturday saw the greatest small scale event Shepherd's Bush has ever seen, maybe.

Myself and the K-Lady love Shepherd's Bush and we love ungodly amounts of festivity. We combined these with a twist to create arguably one of the best Christmas parties London has ever played host to.

We organised a treasure hunt from my house to hers with all the clues harboured by local establishments. My house welcomed festive revellers with eggnog and mulled wine so they could mull over the first clue and warm up after the bitter chill of the old December night.

I'll put some of the clues here and see if you can guess where the places are, I have reviewed them all on Qype, they are all independent establishments and all in Shepherd's Bush.

Here is the first:

The first of our tasks on this mystery tour,
Is a riddle to solve as your sip your liqueur.
We'll start with three things
and what it is links them up.
So open your ears and don't interrupt.

Thing one is a wall,
Maybe tall,
Maybe small,
Maybe not there at all.

Thing two is a hue.
Like grey or like blue,
Like brown or like green,
if you SEE what I mean.

Our third final thing three
begins with a C
It's a drink before bed
That's our final thing three.

With all three you'll find -
spelt phonetically mind -
you can add just one word.
You're allowed to confer
But watch, don't be heard!

The Bush's main street boasts
the craziest place
And it's there that you'll find
The next clue in the race!

I'll post more clues later......

Thursday 13 December 2007

The First Kiss

I was going to go for a drink in Ginglik with a chum last night, but because of all the roadworks around it, it seemed nigh on impossible to get to so we went to Albertine's instead.

It looked very cosy with the lights coming through the condensationy windows and we shuffled in through the door away from the bitter cold of the dark December night.

We had some wine and a pudding, and then another friend joined us and we were having a lovely time which then took a turn for the hilarious.

A couple who had been sitting in the corner of the tiny wine bar had stepped outside and started snogging eachother's faces off. In the window. We could all clearly see. She was pressed up against the window and we could see in detail his hand squishing between the window pane and her ass to give it a good squeeze as he thrust his face into hers repeatedly. We could also see his face, and his glasses steaming up. I think they must've been a bit smashed and not realised that they were up against a window and not a wall.

We sat there commentating on how things were going and whether we should all go outside and start kissing against the window with them or whether we should stand with our faces pressed up against the window on the inside so as to really freak them out when they opened their eyes, or whether we should score them and hold up cards sayind '7' or '8' for artistry and technical ability.

As we were laughing raucously at our own jokes they came back into the bar and we just couldn't stop laughing. They were so enamoured of each other and full of endorphins from kissing in the freezing cold that they didn't even notice. When they were back in their corner they were really awkward with each other, in a very sweet way, as if they didn't want anyone in the bar to realise they had just been pashing big time. They sat, barely touching hands, not really saying much. We all wanted to shout 'go to a bedroom you amorous young things!' at them, but that's simply not done in this day and age. Instead, when we left we grabbed each other's asses in the window for a bit to satirise them. We found this unbearably funny, whereas I'm sure they didn't even notice.

Wednesday 12 December 2007

The Dawn Debate

On Mondays and Tuesdays I have to leave for work at around 7am so as we approach the Winter Solstice it is often still dark or nearing dawn at that time. This has made it feel very Christmassy in the past few weeks as the Christmas lights have been on (I think I'm obsessed with Christmas lights) and I've felt like the small bay who gets asked by Scrooge to go and buy the biggest turkey in the shop on Christmas morning.

Aside from that, I have a boring dilemma on those mornings. Where should I buy my lunch from? Where, comrades? Where? If I get the bus I've no choice but to get something rubbish from Londis, something expensive from Starbucks or nothing. If I don't get the bus then I can waltz past Sainbury's or get something from the bakery BUT I will probably be late.

I spend much of my morning debating this in my mind and end up getting something rubbish from Londis and being late anyway.

Saturday 8 December 2007

Light Up My Life

A lot can be garnered from a place by looking at their Christmas lights.

Take Oxford Street. Big garish jobbies, sponsored by a huge corporate company. That's exactly what Oxford street is about - big garish jobbies. Although Disney's film they are promoting this year with Oxford Street's lights are at least in some way relevant to Christmas. "Have an 'Enchanted' Christmas" is arguably more in the spirit than "The Incredibles!" lights from a few years ago. I actually quite like them this year.

In Shepherd's Bush the lights are surprisingly classy. And that's generally how I feel about the Bush - that it's surprisingly classy. Most people think it's a bit grimey. I've heard it being described as the 'cum stain on West London' but that's simply not the case. It's surprisingly classy, just look at the Christmas lights!

There are little trees on the lampposts with little white lights in them. Simple. Elegant. Festive. Lovely jubbly.

Conversely the ones in Swansea are grotesque and more in the spirit of a cheap Las Vegas than winter holidays.

And Cambridge, as you'd expect, has wonderfully sophisticated Christmas lights. Very pretty and quietly elegant.

If I was a town I would have Christmas lights like the ones on M&S on Oxford Street. Very sparkly and overtly festive, but not too much. No, actually I would be the 'Enchanted' lights down the whole of Oxford Street. I just need to find a huge corporate sponsor.

Thursday 6 December 2007

The Night Bus

I had a rollicking night last night. I became, to all intents and purposes, bladdered. I also went to the Phoenix Club for the first time. That's a peculiar place, I can tell thee.

So I had a marvellous night, spent much of it talking nonsense at some wonderful people who graced me with their own nonsense in return and we lauded ourselves as the saviours of our fields and generally, on a very basic level, had fun.

Now, as wonderful as any night in London can be, it can always be dampened heartily by the Night Bus.


Stumbling forth after being ousted from the Phoenix I bid adieu to my chums and sought out the N207. It came after about 6 minutes of cold-induced knee knocking and I scaled the dizzy heights of the top deck of the double decker.

Bonza! thought I, as the front seat was free and I could treat myself to pretending that I was powering the bus along by the power of thought alone. (surely everyone enjoys this?)

I sat happily for some time, bumbling past the corporate sponsored Christmas lights, thinking about how soon I would be in bed.....

BLEURGH

Oh god, what on earth was that?

BLERUGH

I looked in the window to see the inverse image of some rascal sporadically vomiting on the floor of the bus.

BLUERGH

Everything was going so well. And now there was a trigger sicker. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd just had a good crack at it and had it done with, but it was now intermittent. And with no care at all for the public space he was defiling. I would have to walk past it on my way down. What a shame to end an evening with skipping over vomit.

But I suppose that's the joy of the night bus, and at least there were no youths being aggresive. Just one inebriated man sharing his food.

Monday 3 December 2007

Qyping About

Hello new blog! Hello new pseudonym!

Why, hello BushGirl! Is this new blog obligatory because you now work for Qype?

Yes, it is. I call it oblogatory.

That's very funny. You must be proud of that.

Yes, I am.

So what's this blog about, then?

Well, even though it's oblogatory, I'm quite happy to be doing it because I get to write all about my crazy hijinks in West London.

Like when you bought loads of things in the 98p shop because it was so foggy you thought you should buy cheap magical things?

Precisely!

But you already blogged about that on your old blog.

Shhhhhhhh.

Will the whole blog have this slightly ridiculous format of you engaging in a dialogue with what appears to be the blog itself (you can call me Marge)?

No, this silly format will probably only crop up at the beginning and maybe when I want to be facetious about a conversation I've had with someone.

Will it be this hilarious all the way through?

No. I have my off days. Not everything can be as stomach-crampingly great as this launch post.

Well, I for one am looking forward to it.

Thanks.

See you soon!