Gateau

I like cake. I like Spike Jonze. This pleases me.

Une Mauvaise Chose

I think maybe I should have bought a Glastonbury ticket. Woops.

In other news - what sort of pikey Irish family nearly gets chucked off a Ryanair cheapest of the cheap flight? MY family. God I love them. 

Le Chat

This is not photoshopped. And I find it hilarious. 

J'aime les rouges

And another one for The List. Lindsay. Call me.

Slutever

Possibly the best blog going. 

Bonjour Tristesse

☆ Highlight 1 - The above. Finally arriving. 

☆Remember this? Well, how cute is she in real life?

Jaune

Do you think when they say made to order it means you can have it for not much because you have a very similar Giles t shirt?

Je prefere le mec

I like this. It's the boy's version. The girl's version is a sucky purple violet pastel type colour. Mmm. Sucky. 

Dieu. Ma vie. C'est une blague pour vous.

Dear God

I would really like it if you stopped taking the piss out of my life for a few months please. Thanks. 

Gros bisous Mademoiselle B. 

Je ris

This made me laugh. 

Le Dessin

❤ Whilst I don't really have have a problem with spending money at an unprecedented rate if I so wish (of late I have been terribly sensible. And I secretly sort of like it) I am quite fussy about what said dosh goes on. Clothes, shoes, handbags, make up - not a problem. Knock yourself out. However, I find it difficult to spend money on books and prints. For some unknown reason I see it as an indulgence too far....which is why I guess I was eternally grateful for my David LaChapelle book and my Alice print (different birthdays). I think it is probably wrapped up with the fact that both these things don't actually do anything. They just sit there. A print is looked at. A book is read. They really serve no purpose other than enjoyment which seems fairly self indulgent. Clothes, shoes, etc serve a purpose. However, this is something I am trying to wean myself off of. It began with Tara McPherson. I have very nearly bought that print I banged on about a while ago. Very close. And when I do I will be so pleased and I will think, "I bought that". 

I was surfing around and I came across the above photo available as a print for £20. I'm not sure why it appeals but I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I want another tattoo. Sleazy was not wrong when he said that I will almost certainly want another tattoo after my last ones. Bastard. I hate it when he's right. It'll have to wait though. I have found 2 Rebecca Miller prints online which I think I'll probably get uber small cos that's all I can afford. £700 for 20x24. Hmm, not today alas. 

❤ Oh and then I found this. I really like this to the point that I saw it in the Sunday Times Magazine a while a go and cut it out. Hurrah for finding a print.....for £1000. Ltd edition of 7. I'll have all 7. For my mansion. 

Bonjour Bébé

Vienne a mama

Question

❤ If someone is wearing a JLS hoody in East London are they trying to be ironic or cool?

Answer: I can't decide. 

Whilst I thoroughly enjoyed my jumbling in deepest East last week I can't help but feel that most of the people there were erring on the side of cunty. There was the man with the stupid hair who had a pair of shoes each shoe of which was a different colour. I imagine what went on was the buying of the same pair of shoes in different colours. Oh you're so kooky with your premeditated buying of shoes. Then there were the plethora of girls who looked like they were dressed in sacks. 80s sacks admittedly but sacks none the less. It was agreed by all present (who I have no doubt I will grow old with in an old people's home blaming the fact we have colostomy bags on the fact that we all make each other laugh too much) that sometimes looking thing should be put over looking crazy. On the upside I purchased some fine aprons that may yet be turned in to tops. 

There appears to be a worrying occurrence most Saturdays. What is this? I go out and get monumentally spacfaced. I mean starting mid afternoon, attempting to put a cap on it at 8 and stumbling in around midnight with kebabs on my mind but settling for toast (surely the food of drunk kings?). Whilst I thoroughly enjoy these nights out my bank balance does not. Nor does my brain. And the little nerve endings in it. However, it seems to be an ongoing thing to the point where I announced last week that I wouldn't be able to make the 23rd because I was too busy Godmothering it up in the Motherland. Talk about floodgates - then another of our number volunteered that she wouldn't be able to make the 9th. Then another questioned the 16th. I won't lie there was a palpable sense of despair around the table. Would we cope without some of the founding members missing? I won't lie. We'll probably all be too fucked to notice. 

Talking of spacfaced - woke up in Bedford at 5am on Saturday morning. I've really missed falling asleep on the train after a night out. No really. One could say it is the sign of a good night out (which it was). Others could say that it is a sign that you get up too early for work. Which would be further evidenced by not getting up til 3pm. Judge me not until you have walked a mile in my shoes. Or my commute. Or something. 

Had intentions of doing lots of housework and stuff today. Have mainly sat in front of the internets reading blogs and thinking about the sort of life I want. Have decided that it's all well and good to want nice things but only to want them if it's because you want them. Not because someone else has them or you feel obliged to have a certain aspiration. Which means that it is perfectly okay for me to want this AND OH MY FUCKING GOD IT IS IN THE SALE. Is it wrong to buy things and put them in the garage for when the time comes that I have more than one room to call my own? All I will say is this. Think of the shadows it will cast. 

Fun For Hours