WHO DOESN'T WANT TO BE A MILLIONAIRE???

Well, don't you? Sadly, there are very few individuals that are going to become millionaires by answering questions on Chris Tarrant's T.V. show. Let's face it, most of the contestants are thick as the proverbial two short ones.

There was a glimmer of hope last night, as a not unpleasant looking youth took to the chair after his flying finger was fastest first.(try saying that after a few tinctures). He was a tax inspector, well it's a crap job, but someone has to do it and he was wearing a long sleeved shirt - my criterion for going out in public, other than to the beach, though why jackets have been abandoned I'll never understand. Anyway, VATman disappointed on all fronts. 'Who starred in Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho?' 1.Janet Leigh 2.Marilyn Monroe 3. Grace Kelly 4. Tippi Hedren. "Oh a bit before my time, Chris", he guffawed like a hyena with indigestion. So what did this moron think he was going to be asked questions on, the year 2000 to the present day. He phoned his old school teacher,a virtual fountain of knowledge on all things quizzical, according to our would be oligarch. Lamentably, this educator was not able to answer the question. One wonders how the tax man passed the exams necessary to gain employment with the Inland Revenue, with teachers like that. He didn't know it was Janet Leigh. I ask you!!

Of course, there are people who have won the million on offer, some by fair means, some by foul. We remember the galloping major and his throat clearing friend who cheated their way to the loot by way of series of strategically timed coughs. Then there was Judith Keppel, descended from the Mrs Keppel, significant other of King Edward VIIth and relation of Camilla Parker-Bowles, now signifcant other of Price Charles.
She was unusual for a quiz show other than Mastermind, because she was a nob, and spoke proper and turns out she lives in Fulham and designs gardens. Chris was foaming at the mouth as he asked her about her herbatious borders. She wasn't that clever really, just lucky. She had happened to be 'en vacances' en France that summer and had visited the tomb of Margarite of Anjou (who she?) and wouldn't you know, that was the million pound question. All I can say is, she should get out more. Who spends a summer in France going round some smelly old catacombs? A lady of a certain age who lives in Fulham I hear you cry? What was wrong with a tour of the vineyards, a quick grapple with the waiter and all you can drink for 50 Francs. (7 Euro).

They have made the questions harder now, so there is absolutely no chance of any of these ill-equipped competitors ever winning more than £150,000. In fact some even have trouble with your name please - maybe becuse it was multiple choice - and go home with a couple of grand, if that.


Luckily for Chris Tarrant, the only question he needed to answer was would he like to present the show. A no-brainer. I don't suppose he had to ask the audience, phone a friend or take a 50% cut on his pay check. Jammy bastard.

GRAB ME A BAG !!!

My how we laugh at the story of the glam raiders, who smash and grab sackfulls of what is known as very expensive arm candy - and I am not talking candy canes here, but mind bogglingly priced handbags, designed by some poor men and women with delusions of competence. This gives a new meaning to the expression 'Bag Man' and has nothing to do with Jeffrey Archer.

Apparently, these clever and daring thieves bone up on their market research on ebay and then drive their scooters into the appropriate shop windows and zoom off with their swag, perhaps in a designer suitcase.

The shop owners, understandably distressed cry, 'oh, they must have been stolen to order, there is a waiting list for those'. I always thought waiting lists were for operations - replacements hips, livers, kidneys, and hearts, - not handbags.

Glance over this price list if you will.
The Stam - named after a model Jessica Stam (who she?) £760
The Lautner - £555
The Bernie - £535
and these are the cheapies. Designer bags can go for as much as £15,000 I kid you not.

Don't you think that is a bit obscene for a few bits of leather, a length of lavatory chain from your nearest builders' merchants and a few curtain rings from John Lewis?

So who are buying these bags? Obviously they have too much money. I don't see anything wrong in using a nice durable plastic carrier bag from Woolworths, or perhaps a Marks and Spencer one for evenings and maybe for very special occasions, a Selfridges yellow one. Much cheaper and easy to ring the changes.

I await news of the latest designer bag theft. Medical supply stores know they are safe displaying designer colostomy bags in their windows - you can never find a pair of shoes that match!!

NIGELLA THE TANK ENGINE!!

Nigella Express - Nigella the Tank Engine more like. She is certainly piling on the pounds with those quick and snappy meals, shopped for in Waitrose, Eaton Square Branch and Wholefoods of Kensington, but cooked in a South London Studio pretending to be her smart London home. Like Maggie May of the song,( the original, not the Rod Stewart deflowerer), her assets certainly swayed from side to side. Not even her denim jacket (dark denim, more slimming) could conceal her vast bulk.

Now don't get me wrong, I used to adore Nigella. she was my food guru. I have all her books - not the cake one, why bake while Mr Kipling is still alive, nor this latest effort, but all the others. I have lived by her recipes, hung on her every word, marvelled at her shiny hair and her fortitude in the face of adversity, seen her meet with triumph and disaster (oops! that's another Mr Kipling) and congratulated her on a speedy marriage to her late husband's best friend - and a millionaire too - how lucky can you get? But I am drawing the line at this latest effort.

I mean, why is Nigella so busy that she doesn't even have time to stuff a mushroom? she has to rush around in a London Taxi, shopping and rush back to knock up a fabulous meal for what look like the T.V crew, in less time than it takes for me to put the cat out. No sign of hubby Lord Charles, just the usual suspects oohing and aahing over the menu.

Rather like the fascination of the snake for the mongoose, I was compelled to watch tonight's programme. Maybe she might have turned off the technicolour smile, dropped the kindergarden teacher explanations or at the very least, lost a few kilos since last week, but no, she is still as ghastly as ever. What has turned this once glam and appealing woman into a Blue Peter presenter. Who know's the secret of the Black Magic Box? Nigella does, she just ate it.

And so to the food. All I can say is I am glad no invitations to 'supper' have been forthcoming, because I would not want to eat the muck she served up tonight. Two bowls of sick, one green, one white, surrounded by tortilla chips, some yellow, some blue ( what is the point of those I ask you?).
Followed by Margarita ice cream. Yes, you heard me correctly, Margarita ice cream. Take half a bottle of Tequila (luckily without the worm), half a bottle of Cointreau, a pint of double cream, a kilo of icing sugar and pass the sick bag please. What were you thinking, girl?

I switched off before the end. I couldn't bear to see her making a midnight raid on the fridge in a pair of voluminous parachute silk pyjamas. How are the fallen mighty!!

Sexy - I don't think so!!

There's nothing like an ageing, football loving, Tartan wearing, spiky haired Rock star, to make me call for the sick bag.
I understand that Rod Stewart is worth £100 million, ergo his attraction for young 'models'. Quite frankly, the thought of Tonight being the Night with Roadrunner lookalike Rod, turns my stomach.
I grant you in the 70s and 80s he recorded a few good tunes, but temper that with a gaggle of scarves aloft geriatrics swaying to the strains of Sailing and Rod the Mod is bound to come up wanting.
Why is it, that as these guys get older, they think that being able to wear skin tight trousers and waggle their pelvises gives them the right to abandon Rock/Pop and butcher well loved standards. Even Frank Sinatra retired gracefully in the end.
Maggie May must be well over a hundred by now and I'll bet that Rod never kept in touch with her, though he owes her so much.
There is nothing quite as pervy and repulsive as a short wrinkly old guy trying to look younger by sporting a tall and leggy dumb blonde, with hair even bigger and blonder than his, on his arm. I guess they think he's sexy - i certainly don't!!

Oscar, schmoscar!!

Clint Eastwood gets right up my nose. and what kind of a name is Clint, anyway. I quite liked him when he was Rowdy Yates in Rawhide, heading 'em up and moving 'em out all those years ago, but he did have that rather horrid facial mole. Now he is the ultimate American luvvie, lauded for making it onto the podium, looking like a stiff that's been at the embalming fluid. - the high colour in the cheeks, the little peewee herman bow tie. He is just gruesome. the sight of him grasping not one, but two Oscars made me puke. Surrounded by his little coterie of other oddly named people, Hilary Swank, Morgan Freeman and his million year old mother he looked like the nodding dog in the back of the car. And all the while, the real talent, Martin Scorsese, sitting quietly in the row behind, knowing that Hollywood politics were going to rule him out yet again. I hope when they give Marty the sorry we forgot you lifetime acheivement Oscar next year, he won't turn up. Can you imagine being beaten to Best Director by Dances with wolves? So where is Kevin Costner now? Did Imelda Staunton really think she had a chance, or Mike Leigh for a film about abortion. The Oscars are still about old Hollywood, I am surprised that Methuselah impressionist Kirk Douglas wasn't wheeled out for something or other.Still there's always next year, when more talentless hams will tread the red carpet and more worthless people will collect their 8 and a half inches and thank everyone from their mother to the man who emptied their garbage before they were famous. Give me a break!!

Another Cruz to bear

Hi all

So this time it's to be Cruz. Cruz Beckham, the poor little bleeder, what chance has he got, even if his dad is David Beckham. Of course in Spanish speaking countries they'll think he's a girl, in Essex they'll think he was conceived on board ship, if the name Brooklyn is anything to go by. So where does that leave Romeo, his namesake dead from poison at 15, or if Beckham transfers to Italy they could just knock off the last letter, to make him feel more at home.
Of course the tattoos won't be a problem as Dad already has a big cruz (cross) stencilled onto his back. i had no idea he was so religious, he could have tried cruzzing himself a few times when he took that penalty that sent us home from Portugal last year, empty handed, as per usual.
Let's face it, the Beckhams are a family of freaks.Victoria, right place right time, no talent android, David a big earringed ninny that can't score any more and three boys with stupid names. I rest my case!
love
Miss Angela x

What does he See-enna?

Hi all

So who is this Sienna Miller - engaged??? - to Jude Law. A style icon, I think not. If I see her photo on the front pages, or even insides of any more newspapers or magazines I an cancelling my subs. Forgive me if I am wrong, but newspapers particularly used to carry news, the word, funnily enough NEWSPAPER has given rise to the content. But not these days. Even in this world of terrorism, crises, homelessness crime escalation every other publication has a photo of La Miller on the cover. I think the first report of the Tsunami dropped her for a day, but back she came, like the bad smell of that Mongolian lamb she wears (this minute’s must have).What has happened to our world that we have been completely overtaken by 'celebrity' obsession. Here's a silly little girl, as thin a an anorexic stick insect, vacuous looks and absolutely no talent at all, as far as I can see. She is another Elizabeth Hurley, coming in on the coat tails of her boyfriend Hughie. This time he's called Jude. a pretty boy with obviously no taste as he was married to that manic depressive Sadie Frost, who after a ‘bit‘, I kid you not, part in Dracula, now makes knickers that cost a fortune. only a bunch of mindless idiots, her friends I suppose, would spend all that money on a scrap of material that barely covers the furry cup.
The clothes and look referred to by people who should know better, are not iconic. We were wearing them in the 60's,& 70s anyone with a brain could got to the British Library and look at all the old Honeys, Petticoats, Novas, 19's, et al, great magazines from the old days and take their ideas from them.
Kate Moss is a girl with real style, Sienna Miller is an airhead, a one minute wonder that with disappear as softly as the tread of those hideous Ugg boots she claims to have invented.
What do you think?
Miss Angela x