Verbal Brand Consultant
and Advertising Copywriter

  • My Icelandic saga – in several parts. Part one: Yoko

    Monday, October 17th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    On my first night in Reykjavik, I was treated to a celestial smorgasbord. We’d popped over to a nearby island to see Yoko Ono turn on the Imagine Peace Tower – a fabulous light installation that’s lit every year to commemorate John Lennon’s birthday. I was mingling at the back of the Reykjavik Ladies’ Choir and trying not to fall: a. over the cliff and b. into a big hole that led to the…

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  • Wet socks and walking poles

    Thursday, September 22nd, 2011By annablog0 comment

    Last weekend I had a sock incident in the Brecon Beacons. I was staying in Ponty Pandy’s only public house complete with bunkhouse attachment, stale nibbles and porcine landlord with pudding basin hair. Now I love a ramble, involving, as it usually does, a leisurely pace, a hot beverage with a Pppppppenguin and, if I’m lucky a wee in a bush.  However, this ramble was a 20 mile Challenge in the company of a…

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  • I will never take my toilet for granted, ever again

    Thursday, August 4th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    Yesterday, Mercury was in Retrograde. I know this because my hairdresser has just told me through the toilet door. I am sitting on a cheap plastic bucket having a wee because my toilet is blocked. I am hoping it will be unblocked before the solids come calling. Anyway, my buttocks viciously slashed by the bucket rim, I shift uneasily from cheek to cheek while my hairdresser attacks my unruly barnet. As usual, we chit-chat…

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  • A woodworm in the gusset is worth two in the bush

    Wednesday, July 20th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    My name is Anna and I have woodworm. It’s a bit like having nits but instead of having crawly things mooching around your barnet, you’ve got beetles running rampage in your turtlenecks and ‘pooing’ sawdust all over your slinkies; and when they’re not pooing or burrowing, they’re making love on your curtain rail. I tried to deal with them manually, ie sucked the suckers up the hoover but they are prolific love makers and…

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  • Love thy neighbour …unless he’s barking

    Tuesday, July 12th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    When I lived on a Brixton council estate many moons ago, I was kidnapped by my neighbour, a drug dealer called Junior who wanted me to be his baby mother number nine. As a sweetner he tried to give me one of his recently cut dreadlocks which he’d thoughtfully put into a gilt frame. Apparently, all eight of his baby mothers had one, which was nice, but, not wanting to get sucked into Junior’s south…

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  • Films, Finns and Festivals

    Tuesday, July 5th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    At my Friday night film premiere, I made the briefest of appearances on the big silver screen. It wasn’t like that on the night of filming; ‘lady with loud laugh at cocktail party’ had chit chatted her way through a very crucial scene. As usual, I was professional right down to my finger tips and had thrown myself into my part, creating quite a personality for Daphne, despite the fact that all I was…

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  • An extravaganza in my pyjamas

    Thursday, June 30th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    Last night I had a nocturnal extravaganza in my pyjamas. The Prince of Pop has never been up my strasse, but for some reason, in my dream, I was getting jiggy with Michael Jackson. We caught each other’s eye in my Grandma’s rhubarb patch and by the time we’d wandered up the garden path towards the outside toilet, we were horizontal. I don’t want to go into particulars but he had a barrel chest…

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  • A very long year in Calabria

    Thursday, June 9th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    I’ve just been to see a film about a man with a cough; it started as a tickle but then developed into death. Set in the sleepy idyll of rural Calabria, Le Quattro Volte was fabulous if you like goats, trees or smoke. It was a little sparse on plot: elderly goatherd has a tight chest so goes to the village church and buys a pochet of floor sweepings from a cleaner which he then…

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  • Christopher’s Kind

    Tuesday, June 7th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    I have a few things to say about Berlin, city of a thousand sausages. The other week, I was staying in the very colourful Schoneberg district where Christopher Isherwood and other light-footed gentlemen used to galavant with impunity. At the end of my road, there was a. a big pork emporium where men in blue overalls ate sausage standing up, b. lots of lady prostitutes (and a couple that defied gender classification) jay walking…

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  • There’s a slug in my cupboard what am I gonna do?

    Tuesday, May 31st, 2011By annablog2 comments

    Last Friday, an animal (possibly a bird or a fox on stilts) shat inside my jeans. I wasn’t wearing them at the time; the incident occurred while said jeans were on the line, drying. The excrement was the colour of a beige cardigan and it caused me some consternation because I didn’t see it until I was pulling up my jeans in the bathroom. Now my first thought was that I’d had a little…

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