Sunday, June 11, 2006

It’s Coming Home…Not the World Cup…my Bag!

Oh Yes! This morning I called British Airways lost bag department and YES my wee bag is lying in a corner of Heathrow Airport! It’s coming home!
I am so happy, I have been wearing the odd clothes you buy but never wear that huddle together in a mismatched bundle at the back of my wardrobe. I am so glad I’ve lost weight as some of my old clothes that I used to wear 8 years ago fit me now, ok they are hideously out of fashion – but I need clothes!

I can’t wait to see my favourite bra. Been wearing a baggy one for three days now and my boobs are just jiggling around inside it like two lost kittens in a shopping bag.
My good bra really is lovely and supports me totally- I don’t know why I kept my old bra’s that are too big, maybe psychologically I believe I am going get fat once more and will yet again have tits that only John Brown’s Shipyard can make underwear to fit.
On another note I was so very pleased that yesterday’s edition of BBC radio 4 ‘Loose Ends’ featured my ‘Nancy Del Olio’s (England football managers girlfriend) fake diary, live from the World Cup camp in Germany’.
I have been commissioned to write five episodes and it’s so cool to hear the actress speak the words I had written. I am now officially a BBC Radio 4 writer…you have no idea how good that feels!
I have so much to do this week and am getting stuck into it all. In preparation for the fringe -I have my play to rehearse, the sketch show with Ashley to finish and rehearse and maybe….just maybe I will make notes for my new Edinburgh Fringe show ‘Janey Godley’s Blog Live!’
My blog is the actual inspiration for the comedy show, I want to talk about all the people I have contacted, all the people who have contacted me and all the strange stuff that has happened over the last two years of furious blogging….you never know it may be YOU I am talking about this year!
By the way thanks for all the lovely comments about yesterdays blog, people have mentioned they loved it, people have asked if it really happened and some people just gave me compliments on my writing of ‘mild porn’….maybe I am missing my true vocation?
When I was younger I used to read the old corny ‘Mills and Boon’ love books. If you are unfamiliar with style of reading material, let me fill you in.
There was always an innocent virgin, she was slender, coy and somehow always fell for difficult aggressive uncommunicative man (seems that’s what I did in real fucking life!) anyway, there would always be situation where the ‘broody man’ mistakenly assumes the innocent virgin has another man and he rejects her brutally –then that situation gets sorted and they have sex…Mills and Boon Stlyee!
It would read something like this…
(Cue soft music and blurred focus as if Vaseline has been rubbed into your eyes)
Brent stroked Jemima’s hair. She shivered at the touch, she knew there and then that his intention would be delicious but yet it still scared her (Why? Does she not want this? I mean for fucksake she has been batting her fluffy eyelashes at him for 254 pages now).
His strong firm hands held her tightly and he pulled her roughly to him (smells like rape to me!) She tried to turn her head away but his dark blue eyes compelled her to keep his gaze (scary man is hypnotists…run Jemima). Then he slowly pulled her tightly to him and she felt is manly strength press against her body, its nearness shook her, yet she was soft towards him and accepted his needs (Dear oh dear…just say NO ya mad bitch or get down there, give him a BJ and go pretend to make tea and finish yourself off )
Afterwards (Fucking afterwards? After what? They only fucking hugged in the last sentence! Give me some details….) Afterwards they sat and watched the sun go down on the horizon and Brent held Jemima near as they planned their whole future together, she smiled slowly and knew that her life would be complete.

Yes…that’s where I got any experience of romance from…can you see where I went wrong? I mean after sex for the first time, sitting talking about your entire future is the last thing you need, maybe a cup of tea and a fag, maybe a talk about what you are going to do that weekend….no wonder I married the first man I had sex with, I blame it all on Mills and Boon books. I am off to sue them now!

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