FYI...

Hello there!

I planned to tell you all about the cute boys in The Box last night and how I left early and ended up watching “Broadway-The History of the American Musical Part Four 1980-2005” and feeling disappointed that I had missed Part Three which was all about West Side Story, Follies, A Chorus Line and Dreamgirls. Oh well. The commentators have gone crazy since yesterday and I have two questions from the floor today and so I will address those in manner of genial host.

Toddy lives on the other side of the world. I know because I looked up where Portland is in the World Atlas we keep at the agency to let models who come from Eastern Europe use to point out where their jumble of vowels and constanant villages are. I was looking for Portland near Boston, I thought it was some quaint seaside town on the East Coast. Imagine my surprise...Anyway the location of Portland means that Toddy and i are in completely different time zones and even though he left a message for me at 11am his time I didn’t receive it till this morning which is probably about the time the party is winding up and no one will be wanting to try a new vodka based cocktail. Hopefully if you did attempt to make them you didn’t use butter or shrimp, Toddy. I don’t know what the exact ingredients were, after all I was a guest at this illustrious event and unusually for me I did not take home a cater waiter. The lemony mixture they were adding to the champagne was a cloudy yellow colour and so i think it was a mixture of freshly squeezed lemon juice a little sugar syrup and a glugg of citron vodka. For those of you planning a party on a budget I think you could replace the champagne with Cava and no one would really notice.

I am not a big Sci Fi fan, but there are people out there who find that kind of thing fascinating and spend weekends at conference centres dressing up as overweight Captain Kirks and Lt Uhuru’s. Hell, I know people who dress up as Cher! I don’t judge. One of my readers (Oh, I can’t tell you how good it feels to write that!) has been asking about Dr Who. The has been a great deal of media interest in the new series. This is partly because anyone over the age of 25 spent their formative years watching the show from behind a sofa or under a cushion. This was scary stuff and we were too stupid to realise all you had to do to escape the Daleks was to run up a flight of stairs. Apparently in the new series the Darleks can hover and don’t have to trundle along like demented shopping trolleys. Remember these were the years before CGI and movies like Alien. We were a generation who had not been brought up on incredible special effects and so a quarry in Cornwall served nicely as the planet Zarg or whatever. The other reason the press are excited is that in this series The Doctor’s assistant is played by Billie Piper. Billie was a bit like a British version of Britney. She had her first hit age 16, by 18 she had gone from cute teen to sexy adolescent and shocked the nation by marrying multi millionaire media mogul (how’s that for alliteration, I should work for the tabloids) Chris Evans. Chris is not very attractive and is old enough to be her father. I wonder what she saw in him? Anyway they have recently split up and now she is relaunching herself as an actress. If previous assistants are anything to go by all she will have to do is keep running in the wrong direction, getting caught alot and screaming. Tough gig. Anyway if you go to www.bbc.co.uk and type Dr Who into the search engine on the site it will guide you to all kinds of stuff about the Dr. Incidentally, in his latest incarnation the Time Lord is played by Christopher Ecclestone who is actually quite hot in sticky out ears kind of way.

The other things the British Press are interested in this week are the state of the food being served to children as school dinners. Annoying Mockney chef Jamie Oliver has just finished a series where he tried to get the dinner ladies in one London borough to change the menu from chicken nuggets and chips to healthy freshly cooked food. Jamie Oliver really does wind me up, with his stupid “pukka” catch phrases, his whiney wife and his million pound contract with supermarket Sainsbury’s for their TV ads.While I appreciate he is trying really hard to do some good, please remember that the dinner ladies were working overtime for no money, while Mr Oliver can afford to buy Whiney Jules a gorgeous retro sports car as a surprise birthday present and jet off to Germany for a “gruelling” book tour.

The other thing the papers have been having a field day with is the British version of America’s Next Top Model. Make Me a Supermodel has been slated by every newspaper. It was offered to our agency but we turned it down as the producers explained they wanted to make a really confrontational show. They ended up going with Select Agency, and the show has been renamed Give Me An Eating Disorder. It is so nasty and vindictive. The three judges are dreadful. The Tyra Banks role has been handed over to Rachel Hunter. An ex-shag of Rod Stewart and no stranger to the cheeseburger herself, she is supposed to be the friendly mentor. Next up is the director of the Men’s Division of Select ( I guess the womens bookers were too ashamed to take part?) who comes across as barely literate and fashion photographer Perou, who is just a total tosser. I can’t help myself, I have to watch the poor girls being forced to strip naked, engage in lesbian role play and have their clothes thrown in the incinerator. Car crash TV!

Right time to go out and make the most of this day off!