Sunday mornings are heaven aren’t they? Several cups of tea, a box of Ferrero Rocher and a sea of tabloid tales at my feet. Rounded off with advice from Mystic Meg. Ah! Bliss.
However, I am finding the sexual shenaghan stories about former England Captain - John Terry uncomfortable. No. I’m not worried I could be linked as one of his many women. I’d just like to know where he got the time from to have so many indiscretions? He must have been absolutely bloody exhausted!
A very close and reliable tabloid source tells me, his News-desk is inundated with calls from girls attempting to Kiss and Tell on the Chelsea Defender. So much so, the paper has had to put a Hack on the desk (full-time) just to answer the phone calls. Astonishing.
One by one each story is being checked out. Allegedly, Terry has even had a 'moment' with the Chelsea Club Mascot. What? Yes. Apparently (and allegedly), she even wore the outfit. (Dear God).
The question remains, should England boss Fabio Capello have sacked Terry from duties for playing away from (or too close to) home? Footballers are renowned for their 'away games’, so ..
. I don't really understand what all the fuss is about. But ... then again I am a girl who doesn’t know alot about Football.
I find 'Kiss n' Tell' stories great to read (mainly because there's now’t going on in my own life at the moment!). However ... people who do it might make a quick buck but they’ve no class have they?
But how about a reality check? Haiti Earthquake?
Anyway, I’ve an interesting week coming up. I’m seeing Supermodel - Deliahla O’Flannagan (21 yrs). I’m chatting to her about a factual project on White Witches.
Shall keep you posted.
Yours, Doris. x
Sunday 7 February 2010
Thursday 28 January 2010
Funniest Text Of The Day ...
I've just had a text from my friend Sandra, who is the celebrity liaison officer for a very large wildlife charity. She recently joined Guardian Soulmates and had a bit of a stalker moment with a chap she had met from the site. She complained to the relevant officials and has now been given a life-long membership. They didn't want to lose her custom apparently.
How bloody depressing is that? I did laugh out loud though.
If it was me I wouldn't rest until ... they had implemented a new application system specifically for men. Every single one would need to have a CRB check, three forms of ID as proof of address, (including household bill) and most important of all .... references from three previous girlfriends. I shall write a letter of suggestion.
Lol. Doris. x
How bloody depressing is that? I did laugh out loud though.
If it was me I wouldn't rest until ... they had implemented a new application system specifically for men. Every single one would need to have a CRB check, three forms of ID as proof of address, (including household bill) and most important of all .... references from three previous girlfriends. I shall write a letter of suggestion.
Lol. Doris. x
Saturday 16 January 2010
Simon Cowell - My Guardian Angel
I had another dream about Simon (God) Cowell last night.
Basically, for those of you who don't know ... Simon comes to me in my dreams, a bit like a guardian angel to offer advice on certain love or work dilemmas in my life. Once, he even answered a question regarding the colour I should paint my kitchen units. He suggested Cornforth White from the Farrow & Ball range.
Anyway, in my dream I'm sitting in The Ivy Club waiting for my friend Top Agent to the Stars Teresa O'Riley to arrive - when out of the blue Simon appears, looking all tanned and gleaming from his annual trip to Barbados.
Bending down to level his face with mine, he says, 'Who Dares Wins Doris, Who Dares Wins', then ends by imitating the Meercat voice from the current insurance advert, 'it's simples'.
I have been thinking recently that I'm not spontaneous enough in both work and love. Maybe, he's encouraging me to grab opportunities or to make them happen. Hmmmmn. I shall ponder his most recent advice and come back to you.
Much love and Happy New Year btw. Doris.xxx
Basically, for those of you who don't know ... Simon comes to me in my dreams, a bit like a guardian angel to offer advice on certain love or work dilemmas in my life. Once, he even answered a question regarding the colour I should paint my kitchen units. He suggested Cornforth White from the Farrow & Ball range.
Anyway, in my dream I'm sitting in The Ivy Club waiting for my friend Top Agent to the Stars Teresa O'Riley to arrive - when out of the blue Simon appears, looking all tanned and gleaming from his annual trip to Barbados.
Bending down to level his face with mine, he says, 'Who Dares Wins Doris, Who Dares Wins', then ends by imitating the Meercat voice from the current insurance advert, 'it's simples'.
I have been thinking recently that I'm not spontaneous enough in both work and love. Maybe, he's encouraging me to grab opportunities or to make them happen. Hmmmmn. I shall ponder his most recent advice and come back to you.
Much love and Happy New Year btw. Doris.xxx
Monday 21 December 2009
The Ghost of Christmas Future ... columnist Liz Jones
Earlier today, while in Muswell Hill's STARBUCKS (enjoying a festive Egg Nog and Mince Pie), I was visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future, in the form of Journalist, Liz Jones in her Daily Mail column.
Normally, I quite enjoy reading her weekly column, even if knowing about her life makes me appreciate mine. However, this week’s instalment left me thinking, 'What if ... that's me ten years from now?'
The headline to Liz’s column should sum her up for you, 'Wish me a lonely Christmas and spare a thought for the millions of single women like me, says Liz Jones (Good God!).
For those of you not familiar with Liz, she writes about her life as a single, neurotic, eccentric, childless, late-forty-something woman. Every week she shares her inner-most thoughts and feelings with us, from her marriage break-up, to leaving London life behind and moving to Exmoor (with her SEVENTEEN cats and two horses).
She’s never short of material. One week she chose to immerse herself FULLY into the world of being unemployed and living on Benefit, all in a bid to help her appreciate her highly paid salary (although, the extent of her immersion is questionable, as during this particular week I spotted her sipping 15 pound Cocktails in the bar of swanky hotel, The Sanderson!).
As a regular, I'm use to reading about her self-obsession and 'woe is me' attitude, but it was her description of her Christmas food shop, (see extract below) that really made me want to slap her.
'Contents of my basket: one bottle of vintage Cava, six sprouts, two potatoes, one onion, Cox's apples and nuts in shells.
I sobbed a bit lobbing these into my basket, as I knew I would never be able to crack the almonds without the help of my former husband.
Everywhere you look at this time of year, those of us who live alone are deemed wanting. The inevitable footage on the TV news of traffic jams on the motorways makes me wail: 'Why is no one driving to see me, laden with parcels and food hampers?'
Well, Liz ... I can answer your question, because you're not exactly a barrel of LAFFS. You need to perk up, move back to London and stop bloody whinging.
In the words of my good friend The Top Personal Assistant, “God help the builder who calls out to her, 'Cheer up love, it might never happen.”
So, what have I learnt from reading Liz’s column this week? I refuse to get a cat or move to the countryside while I’m single.
If any of you are interested in reading her column, please find link below. (Ps. if you’re even slightly hormonal, don’t read it as you might feel worse!).
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1237311/LIZ-JONES-Wish-lonely-Christmas-spare-thought-millions-women-like-me.html
Happy Christmas.
Yours, Doris. x
Normally, I quite enjoy reading her weekly column, even if knowing about her life makes me appreciate mine. However, this week’s instalment left me thinking, 'What if ... that's me ten years from now?'
The headline to Liz’s column should sum her up for you, 'Wish me a lonely Christmas and spare a thought for the millions of single women like me, says Liz Jones (Good God!).
For those of you not familiar with Liz, she writes about her life as a single, neurotic, eccentric, childless, late-forty-something woman. Every week she shares her inner-most thoughts and feelings with us, from her marriage break-up, to leaving London life behind and moving to Exmoor (with her SEVENTEEN cats and two horses).
She’s never short of material. One week she chose to immerse herself FULLY into the world of being unemployed and living on Benefit, all in a bid to help her appreciate her highly paid salary (although, the extent of her immersion is questionable, as during this particular week I spotted her sipping 15 pound Cocktails in the bar of swanky hotel, The Sanderson!).
As a regular, I'm use to reading about her self-obsession and 'woe is me' attitude, but it was her description of her Christmas food shop, (see extract below) that really made me want to slap her.
'Contents of my basket: one bottle of vintage Cava, six sprouts, two potatoes, one onion, Cox's apples and nuts in shells.
I sobbed a bit lobbing these into my basket, as I knew I would never be able to crack the almonds without the help of my former husband.
Everywhere you look at this time of year, those of us who live alone are deemed wanting. The inevitable footage on the TV news of traffic jams on the motorways makes me wail: 'Why is no one driving to see me, laden with parcels and food hampers?'
Well, Liz ... I can answer your question, because you're not exactly a barrel of LAFFS. You need to perk up, move back to London and stop bloody whinging.
In the words of my good friend The Top Personal Assistant, “God help the builder who calls out to her, 'Cheer up love, it might never happen.”
So, what have I learnt from reading Liz’s column this week? I refuse to get a cat or move to the countryside while I’m single.
If any of you are interested in reading her column, please find link below. (Ps. if you’re even slightly hormonal, don’t read it as you might feel worse!).
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1237311/LIZ-JONES-Wish-lonely-Christmas-spare-thought-millions-women-like-me.html
Happy Christmas.
Yours, Doris. x
Sunday 13 December 2009
The X Factor Final & Katie Price
Oooooh! I've just got back from The X Factor Final with my friend The Top Personal Assistant. Simon Cowell knows how to put on a show. What a fabulous night. I'm so pleased Joe won too. Interestingly, the audience wasn't that full of celebrity guests, mainly corporate types. To our left was Macca's girlfriend, to our right was Dermot's agent and glamour gal (and my own business icon) - Katie Price.
I like her. I've liked her ever since she appeared on The Frank Skinner Show, announcing she was pregnant with Harvey. She's SMART. She understand her brand and has made MILLIONS from it. Good for her. She was at the aftershow party with her fella Alex Reid. It's interesting when you see celeb's in real life, especially when they get a bad press. She smiled and was polite to every person who asked for a photo. This was private party too, so she could have easily asked them to bugger off.
Rock On Pricey!
I like her. I've liked her ever since she appeared on The Frank Skinner Show, announcing she was pregnant with Harvey. She's SMART. She understand her brand and has made MILLIONS from it. Good for her. She was at the aftershow party with her fella Alex Reid. It's interesting when you see celeb's in real life, especially when they get a bad press. She smiled and was polite to every person who asked for a photo. This was private party too, so she could have easily asked them to bugger off.
Rock On Pricey!
Saturday 12 December 2009
Xmas, Celebrity and Agent Parties
It’s CHRISTMAS. What I enjoy most at this time of year are the PARTIES … Specifically, the ones the Agents throw.
Justin Norman (60’s) is a veteran of the agenting world. He made his fortune by snapping up all the CHAVS (is this description still acceptable in our present political correctness climate?) from various reality television programmes, turning them into multi-millionaires overnight - as well as himself !
His annual Christmas bash was held at a The Lansdowne pub in posh Primrose Hill, last night. It was a mix of TV Producers and Clients. Present were tatty-haired comedian & lothario Robbie Butler (30’s), recently back from LA, where he bagged a pop-star girlfriend and a leading role in a romantic comedy. Soap Star - Liam Lewis and his very handsome presenter son (also man of the moment) Greaves Lewis (20’s), amongst others.
It’s at such parties, deals are done and programme ideas are hatched for famous faces.
Walking into the venue, with my friend The Top Personal Assistant to A Big Telly Cheese, I notice to my horror my NEMESIS … Lizzie Saunders talking to Journalist and Daytime Star - Matthew Reese.
Lizzie (40’s) works for rival production company - Starlight Productions and is quite simply a Shark. Her dress sense is similar to that of one of those really bad Psychics, who sit at the end of Brighton Pier.
Top Agent to the Stars - Teresa O’Riley (and my good friend), made me howl with laughter, as she described their first business meeting back in the summer, ‘I wasn’t sure whether to shake her hand or just hand her my palm.’ she said at the time (God Bless Girlfriends).
As the free drink flowed, I chatted to Liam Lewis and his son Greaves, at the bar. A few minutes in I notice in the corner of my eye - Lizzie standing quietly next to us (in a bid to ear wig on our conversation I.e. programme ideas, no doubt).
Honestly, I’m never surprised at the lengths she will go to steal ideas. Fortunately, Liam is slightly DEAF, so asked if we could go and sit upstairs, as he was finding the Acapulco band too loud.
Meeting over, I decided to make my way back to the party. Emerging down the rickety staircase - I spy my friend, leaning against the wall in the hallway, chatting intimately to comedian and lothario - Robbie Butler.
I was mightily impressed by her pulling skills. Robbie was swivelling his hips in front of her. She was most definitely ‘in there’, until she pulled out her camera phone, asking to take a photo of the two of them together for her Facebook page. She explained she needed to better her current one of her with JEDWARD !!!
Robbie was left speechless. His well oiled, courting ritual clearly hadn't worked. He didn’t say a word as he turned on his heels and walked away. Honestly, I almost wet myself laughing, her timing was comedy genuius.
On seeing me at foot of the staircase, crossed-legged and crying with laugher, she grabbed her coat, demanding, ‘Let’s get out of here. I’m mortified.’
It seems the Lothario Comedian has left his sense of humour in L.A.X
It’s The X Factor Final tonight.
Shall keep you posted on shenaghans.
Love, Doris. X
Justin Norman (60’s) is a veteran of the agenting world. He made his fortune by snapping up all the CHAVS (is this description still acceptable in our present political correctness climate?) from various reality television programmes, turning them into multi-millionaires overnight - as well as himself !
His annual Christmas bash was held at a The Lansdowne pub in posh Primrose Hill, last night. It was a mix of TV Producers and Clients. Present were tatty-haired comedian & lothario Robbie Butler (30’s), recently back from LA, where he bagged a pop-star girlfriend and a leading role in a romantic comedy. Soap Star - Liam Lewis and his very handsome presenter son (also man of the moment) Greaves Lewis (20’s), amongst others.
It’s at such parties, deals are done and programme ideas are hatched for famous faces.
Walking into the venue, with my friend The Top Personal Assistant to A Big Telly Cheese, I notice to my horror my NEMESIS … Lizzie Saunders talking to Journalist and Daytime Star - Matthew Reese.
Lizzie (40’s) works for rival production company - Starlight Productions and is quite simply a Shark. Her dress sense is similar to that of one of those really bad Psychics, who sit at the end of Brighton Pier.
Top Agent to the Stars - Teresa O’Riley (and my good friend), made me howl with laughter, as she described their first business meeting back in the summer, ‘I wasn’t sure whether to shake her hand or just hand her my palm.’ she said at the time (God Bless Girlfriends).
As the free drink flowed, I chatted to Liam Lewis and his son Greaves, at the bar. A few minutes in I notice in the corner of my eye - Lizzie standing quietly next to us (in a bid to ear wig on our conversation I.e. programme ideas, no doubt).
Honestly, I’m never surprised at the lengths she will go to steal ideas. Fortunately, Liam is slightly DEAF, so asked if we could go and sit upstairs, as he was finding the Acapulco band too loud.
Meeting over, I decided to make my way back to the party. Emerging down the rickety staircase - I spy my friend, leaning against the wall in the hallway, chatting intimately to comedian and lothario - Robbie Butler.
I was mightily impressed by her pulling skills. Robbie was swivelling his hips in front of her. She was most definitely ‘in there’, until she pulled out her camera phone, asking to take a photo of the two of them together for her Facebook page. She explained she needed to better her current one of her with JEDWARD !!!
Robbie was left speechless. His well oiled, courting ritual clearly hadn't worked. He didn’t say a word as he turned on his heels and walked away. Honestly, I almost wet myself laughing, her timing was comedy genuius.
On seeing me at foot of the staircase, crossed-legged and crying with laugher, she grabbed her coat, demanding, ‘Let’s get out of here. I’m mortified.’
It seems the Lothario Comedian has left his sense of humour in L.A.X
It’s The X Factor Final tonight.
Shall keep you posted on shenaghans.
Love, Doris. X
Friday 4 December 2009
Dreaming of Cowell
I never dream about Celebrities BUT last night was a pleasant exception. I dreamt about my living icon Simon Cowell (others include Nelson Mandela and Dolly Parton).
In my dream I was stood at the Bus Stop just off Stephen Street. It was raining heavily when a very smart looking Chauffeur driven Mercedes (with those flashy, blacked out windows only real money can buy) pulls over, stopping just at the side of me in the Bus lane.
As I squint to get a closer look, the back-seat's electronic window begins to slide down. At this point, my initial excitement of who the devil could be inside is replaced with an episode of The Wire. Well, we do live in London and shootings of innocent people with mistaken identities are on the up, according to the latest government figures, published in the Daily Mail.
Then ... to my astonishment (and the homeless-looking person standing next to me), GOD (Simon) pops his head out. Peering out at me, he smiles that Hollywood smile and utters the words I've longed to hear (ever since watching Sex In The City when Big picks up Carrie) from him, "Hey baby, want a ride?"
It was at this point I rudely awoken ... to the noise of those bloody Polish Scaffolders, erecting their poles outside my bedroom window. FYI. I'm getting the roof done.
I wonder, was this a dream or a premonition? I did see a Psychic recently who told me that I had 'the gift' and should learn to use it. Well, we shall see. I've been invited by my very good friend 'The Top Personal Assistant To A BIG Telly Cheese' to the X-Factor final !!!!!
I'm hoping to get an early night, in a bid to return to my dream-like state. I bet I forgot to press PAUSE!
Shall update you.
Lots of love, Doris x
In my dream I was stood at the Bus Stop just off Stephen Street. It was raining heavily when a very smart looking Chauffeur driven Mercedes (with those flashy, blacked out windows only real money can buy) pulls over, stopping just at the side of me in the Bus lane.
As I squint to get a closer look, the back-seat's electronic window begins to slide down. At this point, my initial excitement of who the devil could be inside is replaced with an episode of The Wire. Well, we do live in London and shootings of innocent people with mistaken identities are on the up, according to the latest government figures, published in the Daily Mail.
Then ... to my astonishment (and the homeless-looking person standing next to me), GOD (Simon) pops his head out. Peering out at me, he smiles that Hollywood smile and utters the words I've longed to hear (ever since watching Sex In The City when Big picks up Carrie) from him, "Hey baby, want a ride?"
It was at this point I rudely awoken ... to the noise of those bloody Polish Scaffolders, erecting their poles outside my bedroom window. FYI. I'm getting the roof done.
I wonder, was this a dream or a premonition? I did see a Psychic recently who told me that I had 'the gift' and should learn to use it. Well, we shall see. I've been invited by my very good friend 'The Top Personal Assistant To A BIG Telly Cheese' to the X-Factor final !!!!!
I'm hoping to get an early night, in a bid to return to my dream-like state. I bet I forgot to press PAUSE!
Shall update you.
Lots of love, Doris x
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