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
Thursday, 28 January 2010
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
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
Shark Infested Waters
I’ve been unable to eat or sleep properly since last week when …. Liberty Talent’s David Common suggested I meet Tony Daniels - the Hollywood Superstar.
I’m exhausted with anticipation but ... now the day has finally arrived.
According to Dave, the Hollywood Action Hero (and his very FIT and HANDSOME client) is a keen deep-sea-diver and wants to get up close and personal with Sharks for a factual programme. Strictly speaking he doesn’t need to get wet for this. I can easily introduce him to a few breeds currently patrolling the waters in television.
As I prepare to leave the plush twelfth floor offices of Vanity Productions for the meeting, I quietly grab my bits from my desk in the hope I can just slip out unnoticed. As I do so, The Grunt peers out from his sparkling glass fronted office. He’s spotted me God Damn it. I’m looking unusually shifty and now fear he can smell I’m up to something.
Clocking this, I speed up my movements by throwing my stuff into my beautiful but fake Hermes bag (it’s purple patent-leather. Gorgeous), and make a dash for the Lift.
Jumping in, I breath a sigh of relief. I'd got away without having to explain anything to The Grunt, by the skin of my teeth. I rest back on the carpeted wall. When, just as the doors begin to close ... he appears, as if by magic.
Don’t ask me why BUT ... I pressed the relevant button for the lift doors to open (well he is my boss).
‘Where are you off to in such a rush, Miss Tetley?’ The Grunt says, smiling through his newly veneered sharp-teeth. He’s being uncharacteristically nice today.
‘Hi Gordon. I say smiling genuinely. ‘I’m just having a quick drink with David Common from Liberty Talent to see what’s happening with his clients.’ I reply nonchalantly.
I tell The Grunt (Gordon / my boss) about upcoming talent meetings on a Need to Know Basis.
I realised early on in my employment he gets over excited and then over promises potential access to talent ... usually when chatting to Broadcasters. Not good.
My first (of one too many ) experience happened within forty minutes of my showing The Grunt a prison visiting order from Valentine Moon - the husband of millionaire soap-star Apple Yates (25yrs).
Valentine (28yrs), a film-maker with a serious drug problem was sent down for GBH after he knocked out a taxi-driver who had simply asked for Apple’s autograph.
After I became a very committed pen-pal again - Valentine sent me a visiting order. The meeting was to discuss the details of them filming a fly-on-the-wall reality show, on his release of course.
It was all meant to be CONFIDENTIAL. But The Grunt started a bidding war between all the major broadcasters. The whole episode turned into a right fiasco, resulting in the news being leaked to the press, making the story front page news. Consequently, Britain’s hottest couple pulled out.
In a normal working situation I would love to share the news of exciting upcoming meetings with The Grunt. But … he wants results. My neck is on the line and I can’t chance him innocently cocking things up again.
Exiting the Lift and walking into the reception area, The Grunt continues, ‘David Common is a good contact to have Doris. He says almost encouragingly. ‘If anyone can get access to his A-List clients, it’s YOU.’
Turning his head over his shoulder, as he walks off in the direction of the canteen, he finishes, ‘No pressure.’
NO PRESSURE MY ARSE.
Making my way out of the building and into the autumn sunshine, I was just relieved he didn’t spot the awaiting Addison Lee car (booked to take me to The Ivy Club). It was only last week all Exec’s were told to cut back on their expenses and use public transport due to the credit crunch. Oh well.
I may need to take a beta-blocker to calm my nerves before meeting David and Tony.
I will let you know how it goes later.
Lots of love as always,
Doris x
I’m exhausted with anticipation but ... now the day has finally arrived.
According to Dave, the Hollywood Action Hero (and his very FIT and HANDSOME client) is a keen deep-sea-diver and wants to get up close and personal with Sharks for a factual programme. Strictly speaking he doesn’t need to get wet for this. I can easily introduce him to a few breeds currently patrolling the waters in television.
As I prepare to leave the plush twelfth floor offices of Vanity Productions for the meeting, I quietly grab my bits from my desk in the hope I can just slip out unnoticed. As I do so, The Grunt peers out from his sparkling glass fronted office. He’s spotted me God Damn it. I’m looking unusually shifty and now fear he can smell I’m up to something.
Clocking this, I speed up my movements by throwing my stuff into my beautiful but fake Hermes bag (it’s purple patent-leather. Gorgeous), and make a dash for the Lift.
Jumping in, I breath a sigh of relief. I'd got away without having to explain anything to The Grunt, by the skin of my teeth. I rest back on the carpeted wall. When, just as the doors begin to close ... he appears, as if by magic.
Don’t ask me why BUT ... I pressed the relevant button for the lift doors to open (well he is my boss).
‘Where are you off to in such a rush, Miss Tetley?’ The Grunt says, smiling through his newly veneered sharp-teeth. He’s being uncharacteristically nice today.
‘Hi Gordon. I say smiling genuinely. ‘I’m just having a quick drink with David Common from Liberty Talent to see what’s happening with his clients.’ I reply nonchalantly.
I tell The Grunt (Gordon / my boss) about upcoming talent meetings on a Need to Know Basis.
I realised early on in my employment he gets over excited and then over promises potential access to talent ... usually when chatting to Broadcasters. Not good.
My first (of one too many ) experience happened within forty minutes of my showing The Grunt a prison visiting order from Valentine Moon - the husband of millionaire soap-star Apple Yates (25yrs).
Valentine (28yrs), a film-maker with a serious drug problem was sent down for GBH after he knocked out a taxi-driver who had simply asked for Apple’s autograph.
After I became a very committed pen-pal again - Valentine sent me a visiting order. The meeting was to discuss the details of them filming a fly-on-the-wall reality show, on his release of course.
It was all meant to be CONFIDENTIAL. But The Grunt started a bidding war between all the major broadcasters. The whole episode turned into a right fiasco, resulting in the news being leaked to the press, making the story front page news. Consequently, Britain’s hottest couple pulled out.
In a normal working situation I would love to share the news of exciting upcoming meetings with The Grunt. But … he wants results. My neck is on the line and I can’t chance him innocently cocking things up again.
Exiting the Lift and walking into the reception area, The Grunt continues, ‘David Common is a good contact to have Doris. He says almost encouragingly. ‘If anyone can get access to his A-List clients, it’s YOU.’
Turning his head over his shoulder, as he walks off in the direction of the canteen, he finishes, ‘No pressure.’
NO PRESSURE MY ARSE.
Making my way out of the building and into the autumn sunshine, I was just relieved he didn’t spot the awaiting Addison Lee car (booked to take me to The Ivy Club). It was only last week all Exec’s were told to cut back on their expenses and use public transport due to the credit crunch. Oh well.
I may need to take a beta-blocker to calm my nerves before meeting David and Tony.
I will let you know how it goes later.
Lots of love as always,
Doris x
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