Verbal Brand Consultant
and Advertising Copywriter

  • A spot of Turkish Lowlight

    Tuesday, April 17th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    Once upon a time in Anatolia, a man had a perky prostate, went for a wee by a bush on a dark, windy night and then did a bit of chatting in a very cramped car. Meanwhile, a  man who looked like Jesus tried to remember where he’d buried the man he’d recently murdered and a pretty girl made some tea in a candlelit cupboard. The chatting and the searching went on for about…

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  • The lost boys (and girl, and dog)

    Thursday, March 29th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    Last weekend we embarked on our South Downs Way odyssey – an epic journey full of emotion, bad map reading and Germolene emergencies. I was a little late owing to a wrong turn in Petworth and the fact that, having been on a speed awareness course last week, I was driving like Miss Marple. Oh yeah, and with no Tom Tom in my car, I was relying on my ‘it’s somewhere around here’ cavalier…

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  • The finest acting this side of Derkha Derkha

    Tuesday, March 20th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    My considerable acting skills have been called upon yet again. Not my usual professional assignment, rubbing shoulders and sharing Ribena with Bafta-nominated lovelies at gay drinks parties. No, this time I’ve been romping around the woods on a hostile environment training exercise for some hapless aid workers who wouldn’t know Sir David Morrissey if he was floating down the Limpopo in an upturned dustbin lid. I was playing a worn-out under secretary called Debra,…

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  • Splash it all over

    Tuesday, March 13th, 2012By annablog0 comment

    Over the last few days, I have been mostly decorating. My boudoir has been in bad need of a make-over for some time, what with the bumpy walls, flaky radiator and much abused carpet that has, over the years, generously soaked up all sorts of spillages from red wine to red nail varnish. My odd-job man du jour is Tyrone – a cheery type who drinks Tick Tock and throws in the odd bit…

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  • Fling open the doors, spring is a-coming

    Wednesday, February 29th, 2012By annablog2 comments

    Today, I counted six tits in my back garden – they are obviously winding themselves up for some mass spring avian shagathon because they won’t bloody shut up. ‘Don’t pick him, pick me, I’ve got what it takes’, they seem to say, the little darlings. Meanwhile, at the front of the house, the man opposite keeps taking his top off and standing spread-eagled at his window. I try not to look but he looms…

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  • 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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