Friday, 12 December 2008


I'm about to spend my evening watching Blue Velvet, because it's just been too long since I crapped my pants and/or felt nauseous, and I can also never get enough of feeling uncomfortable with the idea of ever calling my boyfriend "baby" again. I know you're probably wondering about my deeply glamorous night at the Supergrass afterparty, and I can reassure you that even though I was born in 1988 and thus don't remember a lot of the 90s, I got to re-live all of that Britpop shit by rubbing shoulders with all of the greats, including a frail-looking Natalie Imbrugliugluglia (remember when she was in Neighbours and then she did that "Torn" song?) and a sleazy Rhys Ifans (remember when he was in that one film I never saw and then inexplicably shagged Sienna Miller ten years later?). Cool Britannia, eh? At least the beers were free.

I'm really jonesing for a wardrobe with no doors, and I'm worried it's because of that bitch's walk-in-wardrobe in Sex And The City: Two Hours Twenty And Now Even Fucking Worse. Question of the day -  is putting Russell Brand on your "list of five" (HYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING, GOD!) a bit cruel to your partner? I mean, isn't it sort of like putting "Gareth from the Copy Shop" or "That dude who works in Superdrug that always checks out my ass" if you are a breathing human female who lives in the London area? Answers on a seaside postcard of some painted knockers (or a guy in a thong, I'm not picky) to the usual address. Or alternately, in the comments section. Yeah, I know you read this, you anonymous pussies. Bus-ted.


Anonymous said...

you kick ass when writing, honestly. cracks me up every time. even your comments.

you off to mcbeth tonight?
i think im passing. i thought i was well so i went out and got myself a dress and some jeans and by the time i got back i felt like i was going to pass out (and i had only been round the corner) so thinking ill be able to shamelessly but discretly dryfuck some dude on the dacefloor tonight is probabrly wishful.

did you go to rodeo massacres party last wednesday?

Philippa Snow said...

I didn't, I'm afraid. But I am going to the Macbeth, and shockingly I'm wearing pale denim and a shade of green, so I like to think I'm moving with the times. Although I think Erin Wasson ruined pale denim for us too, in a way. I mean, even more than Bruce Dickonson ruined it for us fronting Iron Maiden. Asshole.

Philippa Snow said...

"Dickonson"? Bloody hell. Beered-up dickhead.

Anonymous said...

ah yeah that bruce dickonson, crazy ass dude!!!!!