You gotta have faith

I believe her

Gagged

Signing into Ebay is always a good indication of my own personality as the recommendations pop up on the left hand side. Generally it is a musty selection of old suitcases and veggie cookbooks however yesterday they were of an entirely different nature. All the items recommended seemed to be either gimp masks or gagging balls. As far as I can remember I have never looked these up on Ebay before, however it did remind me of a project I did many years ago on the idea of silence, freedom of speech and gagged women in pornography. I spent the day gagging myself in various different ways (for anyone considering the papier mache technique I wouldn't recommend it- far too itchy). 

The concept of freedom of speech is currently being questioned in various ways in the press, one of which being the controversial pictures of Prince Harry in the buff on holiday in Las Vegas. The Sun 'Britain's favourite newspaper' (in their own words) are defending their right to publish nudey pictures of Harry cavorting in a hotel room and *gasp* having fun during a game of strip snooker. "It is freedom of the press to publish these photos!" they bleat, brandishing copies of their 'special collectors edition' rag to the weary camera.  I slow clap at the Sun's attempt to argue the importance of the role of truth and freedom of the Press (Leveson Enquiry anyone?). I wonder if it is instead due to their earnest sweaty need to make money money money more money ahhhh money more please yum money. 

Back to Harry or 'Hanky Panky Hazza' as I think he should be known. "How dare he?" I hear you ask. "He is a Prince! Third in line to the throne! He should bluddddy well act like it! I myself am appalled by the shocking nature of these pictures. They make me want to wring the necks of every God fearing swan in the country in a fit of blind anger. I see why Sun readers must be spinning in their white van seats. But this is more due to the fact that: 1. They are pretty bad quality and so therefore impossible to wank to 2. I personally don't really want to see HP Hazza in particular clutching his scrote. I am sure it is a lovely scrote, however it's not really my favourite one. I would much prefer The Duke of Edinburgh's  for example. Much more entertaining.

But REALLY. The only Prince I suscribe to is the Little one. (although I don't really want to see him naked either in case all the loveliness stores in my mind are destroyed) And wait, I forgot! I don't buy the Sun (Britain's 'favourite' newspaper) anyway so I can just sit back with a tasty gag and a copy of Antoine de Saint- Exupery's classic tale.

Prrrosti- tootin'

The other day some Columbian dude- a friend of a friend- asked me what my new job was. 

I told him that I planned on becoming a prostitute. (LAUGHS)

He asked me my going rate and I said £50. (LAUGHS)

I assumed that we were having ALL the laughs until he sidles up to me later, tells me he has £50 and asks if I could meet him in his bedroom in ten. 

This is the third time in my life that I have been mistaken for a prostitute. 

Maybe the joke's over. 

Yellow- bellied

Today I tried to buy someone a sweetie snake. The long foamy fruity chewy ones. So I went to WH Smith and picked up the one with the biggest grin. I took it over to the counter where a women with scraped back hair and a serious gullet was sticking boxes onto other boxes. After five minutes of carefully ignoring me, she eventually looked up and squawked 'Yi cannae hev wan hen, howma ginny weight it?' and before my very eyes she yoinked the dangly confectionary out of my hand, rolled it into a ball and plopped it into the bin.

Pot bellied

Reading about the history of Diets (in order to get me in the mood for beating my friend) whilst eating Vanilla Vegan Ice Cream with bananas, maple syrup and crunchy cereal bits. Very happy right now.

Stole this picture RIGHT off the article. Yoink!

Girls just wanna have fun

 I was asked to do a performance for the recent Engendering Dialogue symposium held in Dundee on the 30th and 31st of March 2012. I have been looking at the classic anthem sung by Cyndi Lauper 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' for a while now. I love the fact that it was originally written by a guy named Robert Hazard and was originally slightly misogynist through the way it portrayed woman. Lauper changed the lyrics and became a feminist icon. She reclaimed the lyrics and re-appropriated the song, imbuing it with new meaning. I watched the video and played the song constantly, singing at the top of my voice when no one was watching. For the performance I decided to make public this very private moment, listening to the song at top volume on my Ipod and belting out the lyrics in front of an audience whilst wearing my pyjamas.

I can't sing by the way, but damn it felt good.

Cherry chocolate cake on my chin

Today I didn't eat this vegan cherry and chocolate cake.
But I did eat a very similar version from T Ann Cake, bought for me by my lovely lovely friend.
It made my day better and my face fatter.

This means that I am going to lose the calorie bet, but if I am going down, I am going down in style, with chocolate all over my happy fat face.

picture from cookieandkate.com

Handbags at dawn

I tried to do this when I was at art college.
Unfortunately all my friends needed their bag shite and I didn't have a spare £500 bribe.
Oh to be a rich artist.

Still love you though Feldmann.