D'Ya Think I'm SEXY?

Rod Stewart (above)spends £6000 per year on his hair (bleaching and blow jobs).

That's about the same as my state pension.

He wears it well!

KAZ

TRAINS and BIRDS and PLANES

If you fancy seeing a Kentish Plover - I wouldn’t advise going to Kent.

You are unlikely to come across a Dartford Warbler (see pic) in Dartford.

However, these lovely birds are quite common in the part of Spain where we stay.

If the birds were to be found exclusively in the habitat suggested by their name, I would never have seen them. It’s too expensive to travel South if you are talking about the South of England.

Last June I visited London to see the Matisse exhibition. I stayed overnight. I tried to book the rail journey (Pick any company you like as long as it’s Virgin) on the net, but it was just too confusing. After forming a close relationship with a Virgin employee during a lengthy telephone conversation I managed to book tickets. The return journey cost about £50 and there was the cost of a night in a hotel. See what I mean?

Last time I flew to Spain it cost me £1.11 - No that’s not a mistake - ONE POUND ELEVEN PENCE! There were taxes on top of that but anyone can see that this is obscene. The average cost with Monarch (Manchester to Barcelona) is around £25 and taxes are about the same.

All of this is ethically, logically, environmentally and economically wrong. The statistics on noise, ground level airport pollution and CO2 emissions are terrifying.

The sky is full.
KAZ

R.I.P.

You probably read the obit for King Taufa’ahau Tupou IV of Tonga in Wednesday’s Grauniad. It was only 10 days late.

You must be wondering what Tonga is for. Why does Tonga exist other than to provide smiling obese citizens to make us feel fit and slim?

Well - the raison d’etre of Tonga is to send over vivacious, entertaining Royal Persons to liven up our Royal weddings and funerals. Taufa’ahau’s mum (Queen Salote) was the out and out superstar of our Coronation in 1953.

But what about her son? Well here is a well kept secret which I am about to share with my four loyal readers. The late(ish) King was invited over for the wedding of Charles and Di in 1981. Although he made it to the ceremony, he skived off during much of the previous programme of events and came up to Greenfield in Greater Manchester to have a look at Dovestones reservoir.

He wasn’t interesting in the birdwatching or sailing. The engineering skills were what attracted him. He wanted a reservoir of his own to take back to Tonga.
There is a stone dedicated to him which everyone walks straight past. I read about it in a second hand book of walks and still had a struggle to find it.

So there you go! Don’t say I never tell you anything!

That’s me on the right.
KAZ

It's a SIGN

I went for a walk with Barbara at the weekend. She needed to go to the loo so we called at the Coutryside Information Centre and she rushed in. The main building was closed so I followed her into the Ladies.

Or so I thought ….. But she wasn’t there! So I walked straight out to see her emerge from … the GENTS.

Now Barbara does tend to live in her own little world, but I’ve nearly made the same mistake myself on several occasions.

Let’s face it how long is it since I wore a skirt? Before you start - I have good legs. They are now my best feature as everything else crumples and creases. Trousers, jeans, whatever are just so much easier and convenient for my lifestyle. I used to love leggings, but I’m not sure I can risk them this time around (mutton as lamb??)

In the mid seventies I was teaching in an inner city school in Ardwick when a colleague was sent home for wearing ‘trousers’. Remember, this was after the swinging sixties had well and truly swung. The women got together and hassled the Headmaster who called a meeting. He stood up on the stage, puffed his chest out, and told us he had consulted ‘Marjorie’ - ‘the wife’. Between them they had decided that the way forward was to confine the forbidden apparel to the wearing of trouser suits - but not random trousers.

Here are two examples of trizer suits.



After this we just pleased ourselves.

A few years later, my mum lost two jobs - one in a Greengrocer and the other at a Bingo hall - because she wouldn’t wear a skirt.

But back to the bogs. What’s wrong with the biological signs?



Or something like this - the Kaz version?


KAZ

Separated at Birth

You don’t get many Clives these days do you?

There’s good old Clive James and then there’s …deep breaths … Clive Owen. Me and Clive (Owen) go back years. He was Chancer on TV. There was a wonderful movie called ‘Close my Eyes’ about Incest (all in the best possible taste). I have it on Video and watch it often.

I also lusted after him in ‘Closer’ and ‘Croupier’.

Recently he seems to have been looking at me from the side of every double decker bus that crawls along Oxford Road. He looks even more mean and macho than usual in the ads for that film ‘Children of Men’. Must go and see it.

When you start a blog and fill in your profile, it takes a few minutes and then you just forget it. I still like Sean Penn, though he’s gone a bit quiet recently. But what about Richard Gere? I think I must have been pre-menstrual when I saw ‘Officer and a Gentleman’ because (untypically) I cried buckets. I loved him in ‘Yanks’, he was sexy in ‘Breathless’ and a good baddie in ‘Internal Affairs'.

But recently - NO. So he goes and Clive takes his place.

But, here’s the interesting bit. Look at the photos I found on Google.
Separated at birth or what?

Does this confirm the theory that we all have a ‘type’. They both have small eyes, big nose, full mouth and manly jaw.


Not unlike my other great love - Thierry.

Oh and there’s ‘Clive’ Anderson as well.
KAZ

'til Death us do Part

To quote Oscar Wilde:
‘One should always be in love, that is why one should never marry’

Or - if you prefer the Bumper Book of Jokes for Women: -
‘What do you do to stop a bloke wanting sex all the time?’
Ans: ‘Marry Him’.

Sorry about that one…

I was married once (to Rob). It lasted for 15 years and it was OK really. I don’t regret it. But, it was not a match made in heaven (he was a ja-a-azz fan) and it just sort of died a slow death. Unlike the Mills - McCartneys we are still ‘good friends’.

I won’t get married again. I have no ambition to be the THIRD Mrs Kev.

I don’t believe in third time lucky.

Lesley (age 65 and still working) got married on June 14th. She has lived with Ron for about 25 years. I was invited but I nipped off to Spain. I didn’t fancy the frocks and the insincere hugs. Saw the pics when I got back - Ron wore a pink suit and Lesley had a Leo Sayer perm. Her face looked radiant - Natural Botox?

They came to see me yesterday and they haven’t changed. Well Ron has changed out of the pink suit - thank God.

Commitment is fine - I would definitely consider a Civil Partnership, but it’s still not available to male/ female couples - not fair.

PeterTatchell (our latest national Treasure) agrees with me. He correctly states that this is not equal opportunity - it is legalised discrimination where gays can’t get married and straights can’t have Civil Partnerships.

Can’t be right can it? Why not the same opportunities for everyone?

And can you imagine Kev after his THIRD stag night? Don’t even try!
KAZ

TORY BLAIR

I emerged from my mother’s womb hating Tories.

But Tony Blair didn’t. We all know that he only entered politics because no one would have him in their rock band. Or maybe it was because he wanted to get between the sheets with the lovely Cherie.

In 1994 we thought he was a nice sort of bloke so we voted him in. Diana’s death turned him into the ‘People’s prime minister’.

Left wing pinko Old Labour types like me didn’t approve, but ‘hey’ it was better than the Tories and you had to give the lad credit for achieving what Neil Kinnock couldn’t.

As well as being New Labour Tony tries to be a ‘new man’ who always lubricates Cherie’s vibrator before use (see pic).

I never trusted him - his story reminded me of one of those Jane Austen characters who ponders for years on whether to be a vicar or an MP regardless of religious or any other beliefs.

We all hate Tony now but surely it’s time to grit our teeth again.

Vast numbers of non political persons who read the Daily Mail/Express, Times, Woman’s Weekly etc… will like Cameron’s smile, compost heap and bicycle and say ‘let’s have a change’. How many crap governments have been voted in because people ‘fancied a change’? For God’s sake, go and see the Blackpool illuminations if you’re so bored.

I have a hunch that Gordon won’t be next. His moment seems to have passed. In the words of Ray Davies we are ‘Tired of Waiting’. But whoever the new leader is we must give support to keep Cameron out. Unless it’s Ruth Kelly of course.

But please just let’s keep quiet about hating Tony for a bit and save our energy to speak up against the Tories. They are still the same old Tories. Cameron is rich, went to Eton and belongs to the same Mayfair club as Prince Charles. Even though his very rich wife has a tattoo on her ankle, he is a patronizing privileged git who hasn’t got a clue about people like thee and me.
KAZ

Eileen, Pedro & Penelope

My mate Eileen (recently abandoned by long term toy boy Mike) is doing well. We met on Wed to eat and go to the cinema - as idlers do.

She didn’t fancy subtitles so we saw ‘You me and Dupree’ instead of ‘Volver’.

I thought this would be OK for 2 reasons:

1) Faced with the same choice Marina Hyde had done the same thing (footnote to Tuesday’s G2 column)
2) Matt Dillon was in ‘Dupree’ and he was great in ‘Crash’

BAD CALL!
It was totally unfunny, all the problems were sorted out in the end by Michael Douglas saying ‘Sorry’ and it wasted 108 minutes of my life. Matt was born in 1964 so my sums make him 42 - much too old to play a gullible newly wed.

So, the next day I sneaked back to see ‘Volver’. I rarely go to the cinema alone. I’m worried that someone might see me and think I’m a saddo. Come to think of it I’m more of a saddo for worrying about it. At the 2.30 showing the audience consisted of a fat girl eating popcorn and me. Would they still show the film if we hadn’t turned up?

‘Volver’ was great. Penelope Cruz is gorgeous, sexy and a very convincing actress. If I were a bloke/lesbian she would be top of my list. She reminds me of a young Sophia Loren enhanced with a bit of Natalie Wood.

Pedro Almodovar’s interiors are high Kitsch. He combines turquoise, red and bright orange and adds bright poppies, fairy lights and Tretchikoff style paintings. His films hit all the senses at once. The plot was good too.



This ‘Tretchikoff style’ portrait (which is one of my secret collection) looks a bit like Penelope in the role
KAZ
I just read that Almodovar made Cruz wear a “false ass” (arse to us) to make her character, Raimunda, resemble an Italian film heroine of the 1950s. Spot on with Sophia then.

CENTRE of EVIL

Tony Wilson has never been very popular in Manchester. You know what they say ‘He’s too arrogant / Big fish in a little pond / Who does he think he is? Etc.

I’ve always liked him - but it’s no surprise to see he’s in trouble again.

According to the Tameside Advertiser - stop me if you’ve already read it - during a recent conversation on Radio Manchester with local cartoonist Tony Husband, the town of Hyde was referred to as the ‘centre of evil’.

Hyde will unfortunately always be associated with Harold Shipman, Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. None of these serial killers is originally from Hyde. Shipman was born in Nottingham and the other two are Mancunians.

Brady was born in Aked Street in Ardwick just next to the school where I started my teaching career. A visit to Saddleworth moor still makes the flesh creep.

I spend a lot of time in Tameside near Ashton under Lyne, Stalybridge and Hyde. The countryside is stunning and the people are absolutely great.

One day I was looking at Carlos’s fabulous Barcelona blog and noticed to my amazement a link to ‘Hyde daily photos’. There I found Gerald who does a great job for Hyde.

He dealt with Shipman (who killed at least 215 people) here and here.

Another famous serial killer Richard Hillman met a sticky end in Ashton under Lyne’s Portland basin.


KAZ

WORKING from HOME

In a recent interview, the antipodean film star Sam Neill said - ‘I miss the World cup - it gave meaning and structure to one’s life’. I know what he means. People advised me to stay on at work because I’d lack ‘meaning and structure’. But work isn’t the World cup is it?

Many bloggers are ‘writers’ - how do they avoid the temptation to nip to the shops, search ebay, play freecell, blog or tidy their desk?

Today I went to visit Barbara’s cousin (Steve) who had been fixing my CD player. He’s a forty something singleton, quite good-looking but never lucky in leurve. He works from home. I drove out through Altrincham and further and further into the posh leafy areas. His huge house is on a modern estate (sort of) for rich persons with no taste. The house next door was Tyrolean chalet style with riotous displays of plastic flowers and a mechanical village, which lit up and ‘performed’ at night. Steve’s house was just …. a big house.

We had a coffee in his kitchen and I asked him what it was like to spend all day ‘working from home’. Did he spend all day in pyjamas after a long lie in until it was time for Richard and Judy?? Steve was quite sensible about this. He described how he had rigidly structured his day from early shower through lunchtime snack to evening aperitif! It seemed a very lonely life to me.

I confess that as a teacher my day was more structured than anyone could imagine. Bell goes - one class out and the next in. No bell in FE but the same concept exactly. My life long procrastination habit never stood a chance when it was necessary to go home and prepare lessons for the next day. If you don’t you’re dead. It’s a jungle out there.

I took a nice bottle of red to say thanks. But before I had the chance to hand it over, he said ‘that’ll be 30quid’.

Ah well that’s why he’s rich and I’m not.

Kev enjoyed the wine.
KAZ

MYSTERY MONSTER

When my scanner was a new toy I scanned anything that caught my eye including this pink thing.

But now I haven’t a clue what it is. Any ideas? Surely it can’t be real.

Is it related to Cyclops or Gordon Brown? Did it come out of the sea? Why are there two wires coming out of its head?

It has the full attention of five lusty blokes who are lovingly fondling its tentacles.

I assume it’s a special effect but I find it disturbing.

Just because I’d nothing better to do I searched ‘Pink Monster’ and found this definition. A bit racist methinks.

I also found this.

Hope my mystery monster doesn’t keep you awake tonight.
KAZ