Why my daily blog is going weekly

Sorry to all you lovely regular readers, but this blog is now going weekly because my life is insane (in a good way) at the moment. To give you an example, on just one afternoon this week, my schedule goes:

2pm: Job interview for great job I really want (fingers, toes and eyes crossed)

3.30pm: Meet the very funny Jon Holmes and record his comedy podcast The The One Show Show (which may well jeopardise my chances of ever being on The One Show again)

6pm: Watch my daughter’s drama school play Beauty and the Beast (she’s a bit grumpy as she wanted to play Belle but has the tiny part of Bookseller. At least she’s not the Beast!)

7.15pm: Dinner with friend I haven’t caught up with properly for over ten years (I’m cooking)

Other things I’m doing this week: interviewing the wonderful Richard Osman and Emma Gannon (separately) for my next book How to Live to 100; genning up for job interview and having hair and eyebrows done and laying clothes out and ironing them (of course); pitching a load more Daily Mash stories; ferrying my daughter back and forth to drama school (four whole hours of travelling per day!); making my daughter’s packed lunches plus breakfasts and dinners; shopping for dinner with friend; watching three episodes of The One Show in preparation for Jon’s podcast; going to Slimming World; etc etc.

So pulling blog posts from my overloaded brain and typing them up is quite tricky with all that going on. But I have really enjoyed these seven weeks of blogging daily. Thank you for reading and I hope you’ll check in here once a week from now on.

Ariane flower.JPG

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Peter Weilgony, Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon.

Rewards start from just $1 a month for my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but I’m even more open in it (if you can imagine that!)

It’s party time! (Well, in December…)

Brexit be damned! I’ve decided that, deal or no deal, I’m having a kids’ Christmas party for my daughter this year. So I’m stockpiling Prosecco (for the adults – don’t worry, my eight-year-old isn’t a miniature alkie). Before October 31st, I’ll buy some party snacks that won’t be out-of-date by December, and will send out the invitations to my friends with kids next month.

I haven’t had a party since my do for the eight-year-old last Christmas. I used to have fun birthday parties in my twenties, but they kind of fell by the wayside. However, I’m definitely also having a big celebration next year whatever happens with Brexit, as I’m turning 40. In the same month, my friend John is turning 70, so we’re going to throw a party called ‘Ariane and John turn 110!’

I hope it’s as much fun as my 27th birthday party back in 2007, which was a 1980s party in my tiny one-bedroom flat in Camden. Here was the invitation, designed by ultimate polymath Graham Nunn, who would also go on to design the Atheist Bus Campaign:

Ariane's 80s Birthday Party edited.gif

My flat was literally about 300 square feet of space across two rooms and two half-rooms, but I managed to pack in 12 friends. Here are some of them:

MM & M.jpg
Graham with the brilliant quiz scoreboard he’d created,
The-Madonna-and-Michael-Jackson-Tug-of-War!

Charlie & Ariane.jpgMe and my writer friend Charlie, who went on to create the amazing series Black Mirror. Is my dress not the most 1980s thing you’ve ever seen?!

Ariane and BenMe and my then-boyfriend Ben, rocking the 1980s theme with his Duran Duran t-shirt.

Ben C and Ariane.jpgMe and another Ben (I collect them). This Ben is now a comedy producer at BBC Studios.

Catie, Charlie, Zarina.jpg
My friend Catie, who went on to be my flatmate for two years, and then married her comedian boyfriend Richard Herring; Charlie; and my then-flatmate Zarina Liew, who I used to produce cartoons with for the Times Educational Supplement.

Graham and Mark.jpg
My lovely friend Mark White with my best friend Graham Nunn, who would go on to be my husband, and then my ex-husband, and is now my best friend again. He’s paying homage to the 1980s theme with his Mummra-from-Thundercats t-shirt.

Friends at party.jpgEverybody holding up their name badges. Each name badge had three
statements on – two true, one false. You had to guess which the false one was.
The game helped break the ice, as a lot of my friends didn’t know each other.

Ben & Hannah.jpgBen and my friend Hannah Forbes Black, who is now a multimedia artist.

John and Zarina.jpgZarina and her boyfriend John, whose surname escapes me because I am now very old.

Matt, Ben, Mark and me.jpgPlaying another game in teams. Everyone sitting on my bed as there was no space!

I can’t remember who won the prize for Best 80s Costume. On the evidence of these photos, it should really have been me, as I don’t think anyone else pulled out all the stops! You can’t award yourself a prize though. I don’t remember that much about the party, which is possibly a sure sign that it was a good one, but has probably got more to do with it being 12 years on… Anyhow, it’s great to still have the photos, though it also makes me feel ancient.

Back then, I wasn’t remotely pregnant, and now this small creature is eight years old:

Lily raincoat.jpg

The party I’ll have for her in December won’t be cool and fun in the same way as my 27th, but Santa (aka my good friend John Fleming) will turn up with gifts, and my daughter will be excited (although she doesn’t actually believe in Santa any more) and suddenly I’ll have something in my eye. I can’t wait.

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THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 40

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 40 days: 8.8lbs)

John: 14st 6lbs (total loss in 40 days: 1.5lbs)

It’s fair to say that John and I aren’t doing too well on this diet. There’s still time to turn it around though!

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Peter Weilgony, Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon.

Rewards start from just $1 a month for my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but I’m even more open in it (if you can imagine that!)

My friendship with the Atheist Bus Campaign font creator

My friend Graham is a wonderful man – kind, funny and endlessly patient. But when he was younger, he had one flaw, which was using other people’s work without permission or payment. He once got in trouble with Getty Images for taking one of their photos from Google Images and using it for his company’s website. And when he came to design the Atheist Bus Campaign posters, he used the font without paying for it.

And so, one day in 2009, I got a message from an American man from Denver, Colorado called S. John Ross. He had created the font we’d used, Dirty Headline, and told me ‘The font was free for private use only. The side of a bus is not very private!’

ABC JG Banner Final.JPG

Now, approximately 75% of Americans are religious. I could have had the misfortune to have unknowingly misused the font of a Christian fundamentalist, and been sued for a pretty penny as a result – after all, this font had been used in campaigns in 13 different countries around the world, as well as being plastered all over the national and international press and endless Atheist Bus Campaign merchandise!

Luckily, S. John Ross was a very reasonable and generous man, and described himself as an ‘agnostic humanist’. I was skint as I’d been editing a charity book called The Atheist’s Guide to Christmas for free for six months. At my request, the publisher HarperCollins (who were using the font on the front of the book) paid S. John £500 for the privilege. I remember his invoice to them featuring the Bill and Ted quote ‘Be excellent to each other.’

atheists-guide

S. John and I kept emailing, giant six-page-long emails (if emails had pages), and soon became firm friends. He told me how much he loved his wife, Sandra, and I told him I wished I could find someone who would feel the same way about me as he did for her. We wrote about all kinds of things, one of which was my fear of flying, as the Sunday Times wanted me to go up in a tiny two-seater Cessna to cure my fear of planes.

I told S. John that Anaïs Nin once said, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage”, and that this quote was helping me. In response, he wrote me a wonderful email which used another Anaïs Nin quote: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” He then added: ‘That’s a day to seek out, to strive for.’

So when I was asked to take part in a photography project, holding a quote that meant a lot to me, I used S. John’s. I also went up in the Cessna, clutching a sweaty printout of S. John’s email, and had my article about the experience published in the Sunday Times’ Travel section a few weeks later. It was my first ever article for them.

Me holding S John Ross quote 2

Sadly, S. John and I stopped writing around six months later. It was my fault: I was having a major nervous breakdown and just stopped emailing him without any warning or explanation. He was very hurt, but I hope he knows now that my mental illness was the true reason and not an excuse.

These days, we keep up with each other on Twitter. He’s at @SJohnRoss and is a super-smart and talented guy – as well as creating numerous fonts (which is no mean feat) he also makes role-playing games for a living.

I feel lucky to count him as a friend – and Sandra is a very lucky lady.

Me holding S John Ross quote.JPG

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 30

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 30 days: 8.8lbs)

I am truly plateauing.

John: 14st 4.5lbs (total loss in 30 days: 3lbs)

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

The rudest letter I ever wrote

It was 1997, and I was 16 years old. Despite having an on-off boyfriend, I was very lonely. Then I stumbled across a now-defunct music magazine called Select, which had a contact ads section at the back. The pages weren’t exactly lonely hearts, though I’m sure that was on the minds of numerous advertisers, but they were an opportunity for geeky outcasts to meet other misfits.

In January of that year, a man called Graham placed an ad that said ‘Adventurous and insatiable male hermit, 19, requires intelligent corespondents [sic] to astound, bewilder, tantalise and bore. Self-important wordy sarcastic types encouraged.’ (The spelling mistake was the magazine’s, but I didn’t know that.) Graham seemed smart and interesting, so I wrote him a rather combative letter, trying to be sarcastic while simultaneously taking his ad entirely seriously. The one-page letter was typed on my parents’ word processor.

Intro.png

I’m cringing just reading it now! Back then, my personality was an odd combination of zero self-esteem, due to being abused physically and emotionally at home and bullied all the way through school; and self-confidence, having recently discovered that a lot of men wanted to have sex with me. At times, when I thought about my life to date, I felt suicidal – and, at that age, I was still self-harming and had only just stopped being anorexic.

Graham wrote a caustic reply in response to my opening gambit:

Graham's intro

Touché! So started a friendship that would last from then until the present day, off and on. Looking back, Graham’s letters were much more readable and mature than mine, but then I guess he was more than three years older.

However, I may have been an embarrassingly gauche and daft correspondent, but I certainly wasn’t boring. I was sure I had nothing to offer in terms of my personality, so tried to convince Graham I was irresistible – as I believed this was the only reason a man could ever be interested in me. In my first letter, I told him ‘I spend my days straddling naked men’. He retorted, ‘You didn’t say whether or not the naked men were conscious.’

In another letter, I naughtily tried to turn him on:

Sex.png

The rest of the letter is so racy and smutty that Graham asked last night, ‘Are you sure you want it out there if you’re applying for jobs? It’s X-rated!’ So I will save it for the memoir.

Back in 1997, Graham totally refused to take the bait and reciprocate. He said later that he had no idea what to make of me! He was much more withdrawn, reserved and measured than I was (then again so was pretty much everyone, including Julian Clary).

But our friendship progressed. Graham eventually sent me a perfectly attractive if rather sullen photo of himself:

Graham.png

However, he was extremely self-deprecating about his appearance, and I tried to reassure him:

Optician.png

Reading back through the letters I sent him, though there were jokes in, I was also incredibly depressed. I was still focused on self-harming:

Self-harming.png

And I couldn’t stop feeling sad and angry about my childhood:

Parents.png

But having a good friend to write to helped ease my pain very slightly, and he’s still there for me 22 years on.

Az-'n'-Graz.jpg

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 29

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 29 days: 8.8lbs)

God I can’t wait to be slim again!

John: 14st 3.5lbs (total loss in 29 days: 4lbs)

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

The first time I went clubbing

When I was 14, I got my first ever boyfriend. We weren’t serious, at least not compared to my long-term relationship with the next boyfriend I had, which lasted on and off from ages 15 to 22.

My first boyfriend was 19 years old, and was my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. (You might need to read that sentence a few times.) We only dated for a few months, and I thought I was in love, but in retrospect I wasn’t.

My boyfriend had a car and a job, which I thought was amazing. No one else I knew had a car or a job! (Except for my parents and other very old people.) The girls at school teased me, saying I’d invented an imaginary boyfriend, but I didn’t care. My boyfriend was real, he was mine and he had a car and a job, so they could all go sit on a shitty stick and swivel.

One day, my boyfriend (I’ll call him Dean, as that was not his name), my best friend Anna and her boyfriend Keith all went to a club. I was positively fizzing with excitement. A club! I’d heard about clubs and clubbing from the girls at school.

‘I bet you’ve never been to a club,’ they’d say to me loftily. ‘I bet you don’t even know what one is.’

‘Shut up! I do so know what one is,’ I’d retort, even though I didn’t really.

But now, for the first time, I was going to a real proper nightclub. It was called The Odyssey, and was at the end of Eastbourne Pier in East Sussex, where Anna, Keith and Dean all lived.

The only Odyssey I’d ever heard of was the one we’d studied in Classical Civilisation at school. The name conjured up images of adventure, daring deeds and excitement. I couldn’t wait to find out what it was all about.

me-leather-jacket.png[At 18, the age the bouncers presumably thought I was.]

So I dressed up to the nines, plastered my face with makeup and walked into The Odyssey with the others. I couldn’t quite believe the bouncers had let me in.

The Odyssey, it turned out, was dimly lit inside. There was some thumping music playing, and lots of girls standing around in tiny dresses and high heels, while the guys were wearing shirts and smart jeans. We stood by the bar. The guys I was with drank beer, and I drank orange juice (I was never much of a drinker, especially not at 14).

‘When’s it going to start?’ I shouted to Dean, over the pumping music. It seemed unnecessarily loud and prohibitive to conversation.

Dean looked at his watch. ‘It’s not even 10pm,’ he shouted back. ‘It’ll get busier and there’ll be a lot more people by 11pm.’

‘And then it’ll start?’ I yelled.

He looked puzzled. ‘Well, it’ll get busier.’

‘Yeah,’ I shouted, confused, ‘but then what happens?’

He frowned. ‘People will start dancing.’

I stared at him in total disillusionment and indignance, the penny finally dropping: ‘So you mean it’s just a disco with alcohol?!’

He laughed: ‘Yeah.’

I couldn’t believe it. All that hype at school about nightclubs, and they were nothing more than discos! As for the ‘Odyssey’, I thought, Homer would have been appalled that his epic poem had been bastardised in such a prosaic way.

I sighed. ‘When can I go home?’

me-polaroid[Me, aged 18.]

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 23

Me: 12st 6.6lbs (total loss in 23 days: 7.6lbs)

I was thrilled to receive these two awards last night at Slimming World! Slimmer of the Week is a big achievement. I also got my 1 stone award (I’ve lost 2 stone this year, one of them with Slimming World).

John: 14st 3.75lbs (total loss in 23 days: 3.75lbs)

Not only is he putting on weight but the toenail is back!

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email (which is just 20p a week). It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

 

 

 

The day I was in a horrific car crash

In 2004, when I was 23, my parents helped me get a mortgage on a flat. They were shitty parents on many levels – my dad was often violent and abusive and my mum was often neglectful and cold – but they helped me financially several times, and for that I was very grateful. In my less charitable moments, I think it was a guilt thing – they knew that they had messed up as parents, and were compensating for it by way of financial handouts. In my more charitable moments, I love them for their generosity, and feel sad for all of us that they were unable to form the kind of amazing emotional bond with me that I have with my daughter.

Anyhow, the place they helped me buy was a one bedroom flat in a dilapidated block in Camden Town – weirdly, my dad had actually lived in the same block in the 1970s before marrying my mum (although not in the same flat) – and despite help with the deposit, I had a huge mortgage. It would have been a real stretch for me to pay it all, as I was a fledgling writer on about £10,000 a year. So I suggested to my best friend Graham that he move down to London and live with me – and he excitedly agreed. It was decided that we would turn my living room into a bedroom and he would rent it off me.

I travelled up to Woodbridge, where Graham lived with his mum. He had packed all his stuff in bubble wrap, ready for the big move. We woke up super-early the next day, loaded the car and planned to set off down the A12. We were aiming to reach London a few hours later, get the keys from the estate agent and move into our tiny new flat. Graham and I were both big fans of Suede – my first boyfriend had got me into them by making me a mixtape of their first two albums – and so we put on their second album Dog Man Star to listen to while driving along.

The roads were very quiet as it was so early in the morning. Unfortunately, as we turned onto the A12 towards Colchester, a huge articulated lorry also came onto the A12 from the roundabout, trying to move into the inside lane. He didn’t see us, and though Graham tried to outrun him, he clipped the back end of Graham’s Peugeot 206. The car spun round and the lorry smashed into the front of it – I remember screaming as it skittered in slow motion – and then it bounced off the central reservation to face the oncoming traffic. If there’d been a car coming, I doubt I’d be around to type this now.

journal_pic

Luckily, the A12 was clear. I was in shock and screaming ‘Fuck, fuck, oh my God, oh my God!’. Graham was yelling, ‘My stuff, my stuff!’. I shouted at him, ‘Fuck your stuff, we could have died!’ Then I tried to call another friend and tell him what had happened, but he thought I was joking, so I told him to fuck off too. The lorry driver said ‘Sorry mate, my fault, I didn’t see you there.’ The police turned up. The car was an absolute write-off.

But the weirdest thing was the Suede CD, Dog Man Star. It had been playing track 7 (‘New Generation’) but the impact of the crash made it skip back to track 5 (‘Daddy’s Speeding’) as Graham was manoeuvring the wrecked car into the lay-by. And the eeriest single line blared loudly out of the stereo – ‘Crashed the car and left us here.’ 

It was clearly a coincidence – but what a freaky coincidence. It’s the sort of thing that convinces gullible people to be religious. However, I was quite a big Suede fan, but not so big that I believed Brett Anderson was God or Satan.

Needless to say, Graham didn’t move in with me that day. I made it back to London on my own, and sat in my empty new flat, crying. It was such a shocking, anticlimactic way to start my new life.

But at least I still had one.

eyesb+w

 

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 21

Me: 12st 8.4lbs (total loss in 21 days: 5.8lbs)

Given how much dim sum we ate at John’s birthday dinner, I think this is quite respectable!

John: 14st 2.5lbs (total loss in 21 days: 5lbs)

John has wisely decided to hide his fungal toenail until it’s sorted out. I think it’s for the best.

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

Why Morrissey is wrong about everything

When I was in my late teens and twenties, one of my regular pastimes was arguing with my best friend Graham about music. He thought my favourite bands (Duran Duran and U2) were rubbish; I thought his favourite band and associated artist (The Smiths and Morrissey) had superlative lyrics, but dirgy and discordant melodies that often sounded the same. We only found common ground with Depeche Mode and Pet Shop Boys, two bands we both loved.

Getting back to Morrissey: I also thought ‘Bengali In Platforms’ was up there with The Kinks’ ‘Apeman’ as the most racist song I’d ever heard. Morrissey had written the lyrics:

‘Bengali, Bengali, Bengali, Bengali
Oh, shelve your Western plans
And understand
That life is hard enough when you belong here’

and he was therefore racist.

Graham argued Morrissey wasn’t racist; he was just a provocateur who liked to court attention by saying shocking things.

20 years later, he has had to admit that I was right. He has been horrified by Morrissey’s support for the far-right political party For Britain, and his Islamophobia, to the extent that he’s refused to buy Morrissey’s latest album California Son.

“Can you imagine if Simon Le Bon turned out to be a massive racist?” Graham asked me. “It’s so distressing.” (I said I couldn’t imagine any such thing, especially as Simon’s wife is half-Asian and Duran Duran have been so heavily influenced by bands like Chic, The Temptations and Public Enemy.)

Anyhow, let’s go through and debunk a few of Morrissey’s claims:

Morrissey on For Britain: “For Britain seem to say what many British people are currently thinking, which is why the BBC or Channel 4 News will not acknowledge them, because, well, For Britain would change British politics forever.”

Fixed it for you:

“For Britain seem to say what many racist British people are currently thinking, which is why the BBC or Channel 4 News will not acknowledge them, because they don’t want to entertain racists, and For Britain would change British politics for the worse forever.”

Morrissey on Sadiq Khan: “The Mayor of London tells us about ‘Neighborhood policin’ – what is ‘policin’? He tells us London is an ‘amazin’ city. What is ‘amazin’? This is the Mayor of London! And he cannot talk properly! I saw an interview where he was discussing mental health, and he repeatedly said ‘men’el’ … he could not say the words ‘mental health’.”

What he means:

“The Mayor of London is Muslim and I don’t like Muslims, so I’m going to pick at his London accent as I can’t find anything else to pick on him for. I also have flat Mancunian vowels and Sadiq Khan could well say ‘What is a “bath”? What is a “mug”?’ But he wouldn’t because he’s not that small-minded and petty and understands that the UK is a diverse place with many different equally valid accents.”

Morrissey on Diane Abbott: “No, I haven’t ever voted. I don’t have sufficient faith in the circus of politics … and … you can see why! It is a moral disaster on every level. Even Tesco wouldn’t employ Diane Abbott.”

Fixed it:

“No, I haven’t ever voted, because I am a moral disaster on every level. Even Tesco wouldn’t employ Diane Abbott because she would be way over-qualified even if she applied to be CEO.”

And one more:

Morrissey on being called ‘racist’: “When someone calls you racist, what they are saying is “hmm, you actually have a point, and I don’t know how to answer it, so perhaps if I distract you by calling you a bigot we’ll both forget how enlightened your comment was.”

Fixed:

“When someone calls you racist, what they are saying is ‘hmm, you are actually a racist’.”

Anyhow, I could do this all day, but the internet doesn’t have enough space for me to refute all of Morrissey’s stupid remarks, so I’ll go and do something more productive now.

Ariane GrahamMe and Big G in front of the atheist bus, back when he loved Mozza.

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 14

Me: 12st 8.2lbs (total loss in 14 days: 6lbs)

I weigh the same today – and so does John!

John: 14st 5.25lbs (total loss in 14 days: 2.25lbs)

Let’s hope this week sees more weight loss for both of us.

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon.

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!