Verbal Brand Consultant
and Advertising Copywriter

  • The magic of mullets

    Monday, February 13th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    It was Saturday, around tea-time when we were thrown into the final spin of Wagner’s Ring Cycle – six hours’ worth of warbling, scrambling up the scenery and dry-kissing by some very chunky individuals. Our hero, Siegfried, had thin lips and a straggly mullet while his Brunnhilde, a passionate red-head, looked like she’d run up her own dress from a couple of potato sacks and a Doctor Marten shoelace. No wonder he ditched her…

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  • Wet dreams and a wet arse

    Wednesday, February 1st, 2012By annablog0 comment

    Last week, the Artist formerly known as Prince hosed me down in my back garden. He’d come over for a chat about Sheena Easton and his Power Generation but somehow the conversation turned to sweat. It turns out that my shower was bust and I was ponging so Prince offered to wash me. As this was a dream, I was wearing my dad’s big white shirt and no pants. Needless to say, Prince did…

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  • Oddbod and the Victorian Freak Show

    Tuesday, January 24th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    I was on my way to post a letter when my hitherto taciturn neighbour – a swarthy stoner with a rectangular head and sporadic stubble – beckons me over the road. Him: ‘Can I have a quick word?’ Me: (thinking, have I rammed his scooter during one of my  bish, bash, bosh parking manoevres, or maybe I’ve inadvertently stolen one of his recycling boxes?) No, nothing so prosaic…..’What do women want from men?’ he…

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  • New Year, new compost bin?

    Wednesday, January 11th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    I have a few housekeeping issues to sort out following December’s climatic rumpus. First of all, I am without a telly; my aerial has become bent – I can get CBeebies and occasional blasts of Tomasz Schafernaker but precious little else. I have also lost yet another fence panel. Is this God’s way of trying to tell me to grow a bush? Furthermore, I am also experiencing tragedy in the window and door department;…

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  • Who let the dogs out?

    Monday, November 7th, 2011By annablog2 comments

    We all need a mini-break from time to time so when Friend X suggested we get away from this crazy world we call life, I jumped at the chance. We slung a toothbrush and a couple of pairs of pants into a bag and headed off to deepest, darkest West Sussex – Cocking to be precise. En route to our weekend idyll, we passed by Cowdray Castle where there were bikes for hire. ‘Let’s…

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  • White Night was a Lite Nite

    Friday, November 4th, 2011By annablog4 comments

    Last weekend was White Night in Brighton. What that, I hear you ask. Well, I’m not sure because this year, like last year, I was there but not there, if you get my drift; the action was strangely elusive. Early evening I’d sauntered up to Kemp Town to hear a man warbling away on an organ in a glorified garage. This being Brighton, I was drinking Bishop’s Finger out of a Clarice Cliff teacup…

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  • Icelandic Sagas: Part 3 – Dances with elves

    Friday, October 28th, 2011By annablog0 comment

    The night after the coffee cup reading, I went on an adventure in a tank. Our group was mostly German but for some light relief, there was also an odd Japanese woman who spent the whole day eating dried fish on the back seat. We were heading to Thorsmork, scene of the volcanic eruption that blighted the airline industry early last year. On the way, we passed by an aluminium factory, an ‘Elf Church’,…

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  • Icelandic Sagas: Part two – nights in a steaming hole

    Tuesday, October 25th, 2011By annablog1 comment

    On my second night in Reykjavik, I had a choice of dinner – sheep’s head hot pot or fish balls. I’d seen the sheep in the supermarket and they didn’t say ‘eat me’ so I went with the balls. After dinner, we headed down to the local geothermal pool for a spot of hot tubbing. De rigeur in Iceland is a naked, and very thorough shower before you get anywhere near the water. Then,…

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