Four separate paragraphs

Well since Chris was the undeniable victor of that little poll, I should probably have taken note and dialled him forthwith. Unfortunately, I'd already asked Simon and so it would have been rude not to have held out for him - even if he was off continent hopping somewhere in the outer reaches. So Simon won the day in the end. But since I'm partial to both of them, it was win-win for me either way. Plus, I still have Chris's mobile number so I'm sure I'll be texting him to tell him how much I love him when drunk one evening.

Vanessa is coming back tomorrow and I really couldn't be more excited. If only I didn't have to go on radio first thing tomorrow morning I could get rid of my Paula Radcliffe need-to-stop-for-a-poo stomach and get on with fully enjoying the excitement of her imminent return. It's going to be an interesting experience having her and Tito-chan bedding down in our living room. Not least because that cat of ours is going to hassle the hell out of all of us now Milway can't lock him in the living room at 5am every morning (yes, he really does get up to shut him out rather than just shutting him in every night. And yes, Milo does sleep on our bed. And yes we are disgusting human beings. Even I look down on us.)

I was at the Baftas last night. *Check me*. Nothing particularly exciting to report, partly because even with my contact lenses in I'm too blind to actually see faces very clearly and partly because even if I can see the faces I'm terrible at recognising them. Even good friends of mine go unnoticed if they change their hair or wear different clothes. The same goes for names. In fact, it's remembering people in general that I have trouble with. It's a form of brain damage as far as I can tell. Either that or I'm just too self-absorbed to take proper note of others. One thing I did learn, though, was that I have an unhealthy obsession with comedians and news readers. I was beside myself with pant wetting joy (Paula again) when I ended up walking just a step in front of Eddie Izzard. Other men who get me all excitable (not always for lusty reasons, but then who knows what thoughts cross my frankly rather warped mind) included: Michael Palin, John Sergeant, Jon Snow, James McAvoy and David Tennant (obviously got a thing for scots as well). David Tennant was accosted by another woman at my table who took the opportunity, after insisting she had to interview him for her magazine, of cuddling up to him for a photo and putting her leg right in between his so she could get a feel of his sporren. I was sitting right behind them while all this was going on, spitting with jealousy and hiding behind my hair like a lovestruck teenager. She was mighty pleased with herself - and rightly so.

Apparently, I'm supposed to be voting Lib Dem. It looks like I'll be voting for them anyway, however. Despite the vast throng of Guardian readers on the trains every morning at Crystal Palace, Bromley is chock full of Conservatives (and UKIP voters) and Labour haven't a hope of getting in. Not that I partically want them to get in. Or any of them for that matter. They're all a bunch of wankers and, eco-twerp that I am, I'd rather be voting Green. Notice how I'm partly supportive of UKIP's policies. Not sure what happened there.

Your expected outcome: Labour

Your actual outcome:

Labour -14
Conservative -43
	Liberal Democrat 74
	UK Independence Party 6
	Green 62

You should vote: Liberal Democrat

The LibDems take a strong stand against tax cuts and a strong one in favour of public services: they would make long-term residential care for the elderly free across the UK, and scrap university tuition fees. They are in favour of a ban on smoking in public places, but would relax laws on cannabis. They propose to change vehicle taxation to be based on usage rather than ownership.

Take the test at Who Should You Vote For

Chris Packham Vs Simon King

I have option of interviewing either Chris Packham or Simon King for a piece I'm doing. Since, as you may have noticed, I make fairly free with my fancies, I'm rather partial to both. Chris has the benefit of being a childhood hero of mine, while Simon's continued hair loss has only made him more appealing to me - it's probably in part due to that fabulous animal-watching whisper he does.

Which one would you pick?

Blair's handwriting analysed

Lady Muck's had Blair's handwriting analysed:

Slight right slant: "Tony is a middle-of-the-roader, politically as well as logically. He weighs both sides of an issue, sits on the fence, and will decide when he has to. He won't go to the extreme on any issue."

Fantastic stuff.

(Air)Brush Strokes

Could Karl Howmanreally have been so scared that he'd lose his lucrative Flash cleaning products gig that he's gone and had a face lift? He's certainly looking pretty strange in recent adverts. Presumably, you have to be sprightly looking if you're going to convice people to get scrubbing with your swiffers and the like. Either that or there was a terrible accident in the studios one day with a Limescale removing toilet cleaner and old Karl suffered 3rd degree burns to his face.

Jesus, I sound like a 3am Girl. But am I the only one to have noticed this? Or have I just missed out on the goss once again?

Email from Milway

In lieu of me making the effort to write a proper post, here is a cut and paste of the email Milway sent me this morning.

"Sat on the train next to a girl our age reading the Express? She looked great and was all Topshoppy, but my fears were made
real when I read a text message she was writing. Went like this:

i'm late too. clothes rail fell on me three times this morning. one of
those days.

How on earth can a clothes rail fall on you three times??"

I should have been a boy

Me on the train the other day, late for an evening do where the dress code was described as "glamorous": wearing a creased jumper and skankoid, holey trainers; £10 emergency-purchase kitten heeled flip flops stored in my £3 handbag ready for quick change on arrival;decidedly kinky hair (not in a good way); partially made up; moisturising my legs with Carmax: For Chapped Lips.

And to think I used to tut at the vulgar women doing their makeup on the trains when I moved to London. Now I might as well just turn up in my towel and get dressed in transit.

Heirs and Graces

I was asleep yesterday and so entirely missed this hilarious story. Woke up this morning and thought it must be a very good April Fools. But it's true! My, did I chuckle.