Archive for May, 2012

                                                                                      

Now, dont get me wrong, I love my food, I could eat for Queen and country through sheer, gluttonous enjoyment but IF, health-issues aside (and Im thinking hypothetically here) my job depended on my physical form and fitness being in tip-top condition for the protection of my country and all its inhabitants (say, for example, I was a policeman/woman/person/dont even get me started on political correctness) surely, SURELY it would be imperative, neigh, obligatory, that my body shape did not mirror a barrel.

Before you begin waving your fists and bellowing accustory cries of ‘Fattist!’ dear reader, allow me a moment to explain. Policemen (and I include women, transsexuals and transgenders throughout this, just so we are clear) are there to ‘Serve and Protect’ which may include, but would not be limited to, manhandling unruly criminals and jumping fences two feet at a time when giving chase at high speed (always wanted to do that.) This would therefore imply that these Warriors of Criminal Prevention may, at various points throughout their day, be required to run, sprint, jog, hop, jump, crouch, manhandle, bend, cuff etc etc and this would no doubt require a compentent vessel in which to execute those actions.

Just the other day, whilst meandering my way to the train station, I observed what can only be described as a creature of extraordinary proportions, with thighs so enormous that pressing his feet together would have seemed an impossible challenge and a gut so rotund that his uniform was gasping in an attempt to escape. With his Police hat perched precariously upon his bulbous head, he stood, quite happily, scoffing a croissant.

At this point the child and mischief maker in me was rubbing her hands with glee. It would have taken a matter of seconds to waltz toward this Officer of the Law, knock his already teetering bonnet from his bonce, steal his croissant from his chubby mitts and skip off into the distance at a leisurely rate singing ‘Catch Me If You Can’ at the top of my lungs. You may laugh at this image (I still do) but it is tinged with sadness.

What if, by way of example, a young mother, laden with shopping, handbags, pushchairs and crying children swinging from her skirts had the mistfortune of having her purse stolen from her person by some foul human being? And if, by some miracle, our roly-poly Policeman happened to be in the vicinty, would he be able to come to her rescue, as is his duty? I think not and this is what upsets me.

I have no issue with those who wish to gorge themselves into obesity, each to their own, but I take great offence to the notion of a Fat Policeman. Just as our incredible Military Forces keep themselves in peak physical condition in order to protect and serve, should’nt our Police Force strive to do the same?

Rant over. Im now running for office as Prime Minister.

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‘War & Peace’

….and I’ll get back to you in about 15 years when I’ve finished.

Fifty Shades of Grey; E L James

I first witnessed the effect of this novel when riding the stuffy London tube towards Waterloo Station after a long and arduous day. Sitting opposite me, her nose virtually pressed into the binding, sat a very attractive and immaculate middle aged woman. Her face had turned an exquisate shade of pink and her eyes burnt with enough fire to set the pages alight. Intrigued, I gazed at the unassuming steel-blue/grey front (dont deny it, we ALL judge a book by its cover) and wondered what all the fuss was about. Several billboards, newspaper articles and flustered female commuters later I succumbed and bought this intriguing paperback…..and oh my!

EL James has somehow managed to bring the last taboo (S&M/bondage) to the mainstream. Not only is it exquisitely naughty and frighteningly passionate but it is wrapped delicately in romance and tied with a heart-wrenching bow.

Part of its attraction is that the author has taken an everyday character, uncomfortable in her looks, riddled with insecurities and thrust her into the arms of an all-powerful, all-consuming adonis. Their lusty and often bizarre encounters transport normal women into a world that is both fantastical and possible. It has been compared to the equally addictive Twilight Saga which whipped us all into a magical and sensual frenzy; one we can only imagine (provided of course we dont believe in beautiful, muscle-clad young men who suddenly transform into mystical beings.) Mr Grey however, is a real possibility, albeit a slim one!

Wealthy, attractive, intelligent, totally consumed by his love for our protagonist Ana and with a penchant for playing classical music in the nude, he is every womans fantasy! Yet he has a dark side, something which every female, despite her best efforts, is drawn to. Being forced to sign a contract relinquishing total control of her life to Mr. Grey not only frightens Ana but stimulates her every sense. It appears to have had a similar effect on the readers with the internet suddenly bursting with women of all ages searching for their very own ‘Mr Grey.’

In an age when women are still striving for independence, equal rights and in some cases to overtake men in the power stakes, E L James has managed to return us to an era when man was King. Powerful, domineering and often frightening, Mr. Grey and his extra-curricular activities drag us by the hair back to the cave man period and the modern woman is lapping it up.

This novel is an exhilarating journey into the unknown (for some) and through our deepest, darkest desires (whether we realise them or not.) I beg any woman to read it and not feel even the slightest twinge of excitement! A note of warning; reading this delicious tale on public transport will expose fellow commuters to your crimson cheeks and involuntary gasps of shock/delight.

A new age of naughty novel has begun….are you sitting uncomfortably?

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‘Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be utterly ridiculous than absolutely boring.’ Anon

Pia Jackson was born to a thundering chorus of ‘Rule Britannia’ and raised by exasperated parents in the vain hope of becoming a God-fearing academic. This, however, was not to be; she is certainly not God-fearing; she fears only in-growing toe-nails, escalators or Disneyland in its entirety and despite being a Bachelor of Law, would consider herself more of a well-read buffoon than an ‘academic.’

With her heart sold to the theatre, television presenting, music and general artistry, Pia is striving to make a living in the (albeit a small one) in at least one of these forms. This chosen road however, is not an easy one and true to her usual form it meanders leisurely in an untidy and unpredictable manner, veering off course at numerous intersections but fueled by passion and sheer, stubborn determination, she will no doubt eventually arrive (in customary disheveled form) at her destination.

Littered with adventure, observations and general clumsiness, her story thus ensues. Pia is grateful for your accompaniment on this journey.