Wicked Bike

How cool is this wrapped-up bike I spotted near Elephant and Castle?

Going up: Fat Orang-utans

Oshine was raised by a well-meaning (American human) family on a diet of marshmallows, burgers and jelly. No surprise, then, that she’s ended up weighing over a whopping 15 stone. She’s on the salads now, like me. Ah let her have her chip butties though, the poor love. Got this photo from the Daily Mail website - she doesn’t look amused about how things have worked out.

Broken Laptop, Broken Heart

Sorry for the late posting of Madrid-related images, or anything else for that matter. My laptop has gone and died on me and I am writing this to you from a dear friend's machine. Despite my 'buy this designer bag' and 'buy these designer shoes' advice, I have no collateral of my own and therefore cannot even afford to replace said laptop. I will beg, borrow and steal technology as I attempt to get my old love fixed/replaced but in the meantime, please bear with me gorgeous reader! Apple, if any of you are reading this, please, please, please give me a shiny new I-Book for free - I will make it well worth your while...

Tales of the Unexpected

What I love most about London is how you encounter the unexpected everyday. You bump into old friends on Oxford Street. You experience one culture in one place then a totally different one five minutes away. You wouldn’t expect to see someone having an energetic conversation with a block of wood-but you do. No matter how often things like this happen, you are still surprised when they do.

I didn’t anticipate being serenaded on the way home from work last night but then Dalston’s answer to Johnny Cash sang to me like a bluebird.

Talkative, guitar-wielding Liam sang well (he thinks he sounds like Rod Stewart, I’m not sure this is an altogether accurate comparison) and played passionately with the grandest, strumming finales I have ever encountered off-stage. Rarely relinquishing eye-contact from behind his Bono-inspired pink sunnies, he played all the hits from U2 to Johnny Cash (his favourite). After a couple of songs, I clapped politely and gave him a cigarette as a sign of appreciation but this was apparently perceived as an encore request. “What colour are your eyes?” He asked. As soon as I told him, I recognised what was coming. There is but one song I loathe more than ‘Come on Eileen’ and that is ‘Brown-eyed Girl’. Fortunately Liam read my faux sleeping and aversion of eye-contact as was intended and returned to Cash for his final number. This sort of carry-on would not usually sit well after an exhausting night shift but, completely unexpectedly, I realised it was just what I needed.

How the Mighty Fall

Oh call me cruel if you want but today I had a cheap and evil chuckle at the expense at those two fallen Prada models in Milan. I know the shoes were ridiculous and everything (I defy anyone not to struggle in these snakeskin stilts!) but in the words of Liz Hurley on Project Catwalk: "fashion has no mercy" and I find something sickly comforting that these creatures of fresh youth and beauty can take a tumble just like the rest of us. I think it's time for my nose wart treatment...