According to lie-factory Wikipedia, Gok Wan’s name means Noisy Big City, but it would be far more appropriate if he were called Nosy Big Twat. From the Trinny and Susannah school of tit-prodding and granny-groping, Gok is desperate for you to dress properly. So take off that stained T-shirt, wipe the crumbs off your...
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Archive for May, 2009
TV Review: Gok’s Fashion Fix
Confessing Rubbish Disorders
Hayfever is just about the wettest allergy there is. Seriously, being made to cry because of flowers and having to stay inside with all the windows shut because little bits of pollen might attack you. Well boohoo. Not only do I have hayfever, the big snotty crying disorder, I also have a bad back....
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Kissed off with saying Hello
Meeting a male friend is easy. Quick handshake, a “how’s it going?” and we’re set, regardless of whether we’ve known each other all our lives, or met once on a hazy night out. Nice simple, straightforward rules. With women, it used to be quite simple – just an awkward wave hello and a smile....
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Out of my depth around weird strangers
When walking into a pub, it takes approximately 5 seconds to decide what sort of establishment it is. If fifteen pairs of eyes follow every move you make, while drinks are angrily slammed down, you can be pretty sure that it’s locals only. Or if there’s music playing at a volume that sounds like...
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Is everything alright, sir?
I was trying to check into a hotel, but couldn’t, because the useless arse-stains at lastminute.com hadn’t bothered to tell the hotel that I was coming, or that I’d booked a room. Hilariously, the hotel have had problems with them before – sometimes orders don’t come through when they’re booked at the last minute....
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Babestation: Televised Masturbatathon
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch is the longest station name in the country (note to self: check spelling on that. Might have missed an ‘l’ somewhere.) Every year, hundreds of train spotters turn up to be photographed in front of the station sign, as a little memento of the time they went to Wales. I don’t know why...
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You wouldn’t want a warm beer, would you?
Aah, beer. The shouty, falling-down juice that’s always there for you. It’s the glue that holds everything together: Curry, X-Box, friends and beer. It just wouldn’t work without beer. It’s the magical cement that makes everyone happy. Unless you’re an alcoholic. Or been run down by a drunk driver. Or have severe liver problems....
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Nice tackle! Oh, er, not you.
Being the health nut that I so clearly wish I was, I ended up at a swimming pool the other day. None of your Joe Public scrotes pissing in the shallow end for me though, this was a private swimming pool, for members only. Yeah. It, er, came attached to the hotel I stayed...
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The Apprentice Half-Term Report
15 bell-ends, one job. The race is on to find someone to tongue Alan Sugar’s wrinkled old scrotum. And make lots of money before the economy collapses. Before this series of The Apprentice started, I took a look through the candidates, allowing them to hang themselves with their own demented words. Now we’re halfway...
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