It will be rare, as DD doesn’t promote negativity, but if something is tested or attended and it leaves more than a sour taste, a blistered toe or a general feeling of unease and annoyance this is where DD will expose sports or culture related nasties. Lets hope it is a very tiny page
Jacques Town House – 06.08.10
What a right royal flop. I’d read the hype, I’d secured a place and I arrived (and queued) in the rain. Was it worth it? Sadly not. The house itself was prettily art directed, but no more so than many press days I’ve been lucky enough to go to. Inside throngs of girls who probably work in finance queued (again) to be powdered/have their fortunes read/get a drink from the bar. Drinks were limited to two (free). If you wanted to partake in an activity you had to queue for it the entire time you were there (I know, we did). Or if you choose not to queue, you can sit in one of the pretty rooms and mumble to your friend (I know, because I saw them). The PR behind the event was great, but sadly it didn’t measure up to the reality and that is what annoys me. It’s all very well creating a magical story around a brand or an idea, but it actually needs to deliver. Having said that, all the tottering, tanorexic, hair-extensioned girls that shared the queue with me seemed to be having a whale of a time (free cider?). Maybe I’m just a spoilt brat. Or a cynic. Either way Jacques, you didn’t hit the right note for me.
Keys – 4.08.10
I seem to have lost my keys. House keys x 2. Bike keys and a few other keys that unlocked what I don’t know. I wasn’t even drunk. Missing somewhere between Southbank, Hyde Park and Shoreditch. Oh well, that narrows it down then.
Inception, Leicester Square Odeon – 27.06.10
Tom Hardy. Drool. But I am confused.com by the film and not as blown away as I hoped to be… This is always the problem with hype. Slight case of Emperor’s New Clothes I feel. Never-the-less. Back to Tom Hardy…
Mother’s Ruin – 05.06.10
Last night was wonderous ceviche, catch ups and a few (honestly) G&T’s at a friends. Today is super weather and an unexpected downturn of the smile. I think it’s true what they say about quinine in tonic. Today I vow to swap tonic for soda water/lemonade. Bad Mr Schwepps.
Where’s Your Head At? – 31.05.2010
‘Oh what a wonderful morning, oh what a wonderful…whatthefuckareyoudoingidiotwoman?’ My morning cycle to Waterloo from north London again punctuated by some fool on a bike. Yes that’s correct, even fellow cyclists can (momentarily) despise their own kind. I pedal for a minimum of 1 hour and a half hours each day, that’s 90 minutes, or the length of a football match. And each day I see someone on their spokes brush with death. Occasionally it really is no one’s fault. Occasionally it is the fault of the bus/car/pedestrian/pothole/dog also on the road. But occasionally it really is, and I’m sorry to say it, totally the fault of the cyclist.
Cycling anywhere is a risk. Cycling in London is like a risk with a lion underneath it and a demented guy with an axe impregnated with rabies hovering above. You get the picture. So as a cyclist, in a city full of traffic variables the only thing you can do to minimise your chances of accident is to lower the margin for error. This stupididiotcyclists, of which there are a few, means this:
1. Don’t cycle with headphones in. Yes you with ‘just one in, I can still hear the traffic’. You’ve just halved one of your only two active senses (sight, hearing, touch as a third if you’re being pedantic). If you cared to keep your ears open you’d hear other cyclists dinging you to get out the way, you’d sense a faster rider trying to overtake and you’d be able to hear London coming alive each morning. I bet you’re listening to Nickleback too. Idiot.
2. You can’t drive. You’ve never taken a cycling proficiency. Get off the f*cking road then. You frequently give way to the left at roundabouts, overtake cars on the inside and weave haphazardly between lanes in busy traffic. You’re a menace. And you’re one of the main reasons car drivers hate us.
3. The traffic light kid. You think you’re king of the traffic lights. You see a red traffic light and you think, great, I’m going to get right to the front of that bundle of cyclists so I’ve got a 0.00005 second advantage on the 15 cyclists who have already secured their safe space at the front. You wiggle in. I’ve got no problem with that. Except that when the green light arrives, go. Go. GO. You, traffic light kid have slow reactions and slow start times, so don’t push yourself to the front then cycle off with the speed of a sloth. You make everyone behind you either late. Or we have to weave out into the traffic to get around you. Fool.
4. Indicator blindness. It’s not PC to behave with prejudice to those who are poor of sight. And neither have I any desire to. So, if you really are blind (or deaf – see my first point) then I apologise. But unless you’re certified numb of vision, you have no excuse. Why then, do you fail to check if cars are turning left/right before you over take/undercut them? Then further have the audacity to get enraged at said car when it nearly knocks you flying. My favourite (I’m being sarcastic) scenario is this – set of traffic lights on red. Car waiting patiently. There is a no right turn. The car can ONLY go left. There is a cycle lane to the right of the car, so that those on two wheels can cross safely straight over the crossing. But fellow cyclist, rather than follow this course of action, you pull up next to the car (indicating left, in a left turn only junction) and when the lights change from red to green you glide straight past the car, leaving the driver bemused, angry and with his foot wedged on the brake. Got indicator blindness? Get your sight checked before it’s too late.
Wow. Rant over. Now where was I… ‘oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day!’
Peg Leg – 6.04.2010
A word to the wise. Beware of straining muscles. I train at Circus Space in Hoxton Square each week on the static trapeze, and seem to have injured my leg getting all cocky on the one leg hocks. To laymen that means hanging upside down off the back of one knee essentially – letting the delicate area behind the knee cap hold not only your own body weight, but also allowing gravity to add her own natural pull. Although this didn’t hurt at the time, two days later a lump the size of a tennis ball appeared at the back of my right thigh along with a thick black bruise.
The photo doesn’t do the swelling justice, but believe me it is there in all it’s spherical glory. Even at rest my leg aches, with particular pain first thing in the morning and last thing at night. It has now been two weeks and the lump has diminished to that of a large walnut and the bruise is mellowing into a purple haze. Not content with sitting still and RESTING and letting the leg REPAIR, I have been cycling and swimming, which has only led to more pain, more bruising and more tellings off from The Doctor. If this happens to be you, don’t be afraid, you probably don’t have leg cancer (yes the thought did cross my mind) but make sure you stop being sport Billy for a few weeks and give your peg some much deserved respite so that it can heal.