The ballerina Marianela Nunez was in Trevor Sorbie this morning, having her nails done. First, I saw a bright pink trainer walk past me; it barely seemed to touch the ground, moving along on springs, rather like people do in Nike ads. The way she walked, and her absolutely emaciated frame, made it very obvious she... Continue Reading →
Why does no one enjoy the arts?
I am watching The Red Shoes. I am quite drunk, because today I got my bonus numbers, my sister is starting a new job on Monday, and Tesco's was selling Lanson Rose at half price. Originally I was planning to open the second bottle in about half an hour, but then my sister went off... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 