Posts (page 2)

Yes, Yo! have reopened their flagship kaiten restaurant in Poland Street, and from 16th to 25th June you can scoff sushi for half price.

Anyone care to join me? Any excuse for a party and all that...

You need to sign up here: Yo! Sushi offer registration

Over the last 4 or 5 months the contents of my email spam folder have undergone quite an obvious change. Where once I was being endlessly offered the opportunity to 'enhance manhod w bluepill' [sic], 'date barely legal slut from your area tonite' [really sic], or 'lose excess pounds for summer with magic patch' [thanks, but I've had enough stress to do that without any help at all, so stick your patch elsewhere], I'm now drowning in bargain spam and phishing scams.

Is this a sign of a wobbling economy? Are the scammers trying to take advantage of desperate people caught up in the credit crunch? Who knows.

Most of the scams are based on offers that were genuinely available about 3 to 6 months ago, so they look almost credible. In particular, watch out for people pretending to be from LoveFilm (free trial of unlimited DVD rentals etc), Experian (copying their 30-day free trial), offering free samples (MAC makeup and so on), RyanAir vouchers, or pretending to be from Gala Bingo or various other online gambling sites (offering you £20 free stake etc).

And if I get another one that says 'shop Primark/Tesco/etc for free!' I might scream. While it might be nice to shop AT a shop for free, get your filthy americanisms away from me. I keep a close eye on any competitions I've entered, and I know I haven't tried to win £300 of vouchers from you, so kindly begone.

Anyway, be careful out there.

Has anyone seen any similar scams recently?

...was to treat myself to a gift pack of Champneys rose-scented goodies.

Well what did you expect? C'mon! Penny Golightly is back, people.

I felt I deserved a proper leaving gift, and a bagful of relaxing and pampering bath foam, shower gel, body lotion and hand cream for £7.50 totally hit the spot.

Want one too? Their gift packs (rose, exotic and oriental varieties) are half price in Sainbury's at the mo. Stock up for treats for your lady friends, or just spoil yourself.

Final week in shite job, so woo and yay. I've decided to take a month off to relax, and to write about 20,000 words of 'Operation Bargain Book'. At the end of June I will be doing a refresher course for freelance journalists for a bit of a confidence boost, then I'll be looking for a new job and an agent, and temping if need be.

My back is a bit better - although I'm making loud crunching noises on a frequent basis - and I'm allowed to start exercising again gently, starting with a bit of swimming this evening. If that doesn't feel so good I shall retire to the jacuzzi, natch.

My month off is going to be all about relaxing, making my back better, and doing fun (cheap) stuff.

Part of the fun stuff will be catching up on my reading, so I'm starting to make a list of books. I'm going to read the John Peel biography and Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky by Patrick Hamilton, plus I have rashly joined a book group and will have to speed read Two Caravans in time for next week.

Any other suggestions, Voxers? Please bear in mind that I can't stand stuff like the Da Vinci Code and chick lit, but apart from that, feel free to recommend away, classic or contemporary. Think I will be able to get through about 15 next month, so do get stuck in...

I am aware that my blog is getting grumpier by the day, and will try to have a better day tomorrow.

But on my way in to work this morning I got hit by a bloody cab. He'd pulled up to a stop in a side road, and as I crossed he suddenly decided to accelerate into the oncoming traffic (and me). I managed to slam both my hands onto the bonnet and inform him he was a fucking moron, slightly a la Midnight Cowboy, but - dare I say it - a fair bit cooler and meaner than Dustin H.

I then pulled myself up to the full, nay towering, 5ft 5 and bellowed through the side window that it wasn't his right of way and he should look where he was going.

That told him. I'm a bit scratched and bruised but nothing is broken. I am, however, delighted to find that I've perfectly retained my ability to swear really really well at people who deserve The Wrath.

And speaking of the Scarlet Mist coming down (ethical music lovers), Wifey has managed to get us tickets to see Mogwai tonight at the Royal Festival Hall, so my day can only get better. Bring the noise!

I have managed to get them to give me the leaving date I wanted. End of this month.

[this is progress]

After that I'm going to take a month off and do lots of nice things 'cos I'm all bent out of shape.

What's that, you arsehole god-botherer?

No, stupid o'clock on Saturday morning, especially THIS Saturday morning, is not a good time to try to sell me a motherfucking bastard copy of Watchtower.

Goodbye.

But at least it's a gorgeous sunny day and I am in the unusual position of being completely at leisure, with no obligation to do anything at all...

...on account of handing the book in to the publisher yesterday evening. Yee-haarrr! I have my life back.

So here we are - deadline day.

I have a serviceable second draft which I'm reasonably happy with. Just need to take it home after work, read it through one more time, tinker about a bit, add a 500 word introduction and send it off.

Then it will be time for a mahoosive fuck off round of shots during last orders. And sleep, the sleep of the damned. Saturday morning will not exist, and that's official.

This morning I ended up doing something I swore I'd never do. I worked at my writing desk wearing a dressing gown and slippers for four hours. It's the living end for authors, as far as I'm concerned (think Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys - so not a good look). However you'll be glad to hear that general standards have since been restored.

I'm having a day off work to fill in the last gaps in the book, get a few more quotes and edit the whole thing down. So imagine how lovely it was to find that the flat upstairs had arranged to have their kitchen ripped out and replaced this morning. and they have the worst type of builders - the ones who bellow constantly at one another for no real reason. They could have warned the neighbours, the bastards.

Anyhow, I shall prevail. I mean, I've survived a dose of flu, a cancer scare, and a bunch of family and work bullshit during the writing process already, so unless they come through the ceiling or cut the power to the whole block it will probably be OK.

Note to self: You can't research and write a fact-based quote-filled book of this size in a two-month period if you're fitting it in around a full time job and evening classes. Not without destroying your social life and making yourself waaay too stressed to be healthy. Next time, do the maths, you silly thing.

Once it's handed in I'll soon be in receipt of a small cheque; just enough to buy a lobster dinner, get a couple of decent massages to uncrick my shoulders and lower back, and send myself off to a B&B by the sea for the weekend. Something nice to look forward to, eh?