Sunday
Growing bald disgracefull
Dont just look, bitches, leave a comment.xxxMy recent discovery (my being folically challanged) led me to this h-i-lario-u-s site.
Yes I have too much time on my hands, but this pressing matter must be resolved. I refuse to grow bald gracefully, i will follow in the footsteps of the worlds most famous wig wears Trump, and Sir Elton.
Ive mocked up what I could look like. But which one to choose, pick your favourite and leave me a comment at the end.
The "Trupm/Elton" which could also double up as the "Murder She Wrote"
The "Vernon Kay"
The "Ageing 70's Rocker"
The "Gay Hair Dresser"
The "Will and Grace"
The "Elvis"
or of course the "Macy Gray" ("Macy Gay")
Its either this or a large family size pack of solpadine and a bottle of stoli, the choice is yours.What grows, you decide.xx
Labels: Self Portrait
Posted by Edd at 30.7.06
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Top of the pops
My father has just informed me that the last ever "Top of the Pops" is currently being aired- displaying his apparent saddness at the loss of another brittish institution. Father dearest, get with the times. There are now only 3 brittish institutions.1) The Royal Family.
2) Cups of Tea. According to the BBC the average britton will drink 10,000 cups per year.
2) Binge Drinking. More facts from the BBC. 
On another note, I was checking my blogs stats out earlier and thought i'd share something with you. It shows the percentage of my viewers from each country. 
For the first time ever I have more American readers than Brittish. The french, and Canadians are also catching up. Fuck the french, I fucking love Canadians. Ok i appologise to all the French out there, after all can you imagine a world without "Pan au Chocolat", and "Va Va friggin Voom".Its also good to see that the Middle East, Russia, and Asia love me. Readers, if you happen to be Oil Shieks, drug barons or slum lords, please please please send me $15,000 (US) using the donate button at the top of the page, so I can finally buy some Da vinci Veneers.
Re-cap of the week:
Worked 4.5days (nuf said).
Smoked 20 a day every day.
Bought the DG razr.
Partied Friday night, drank my own weight in Rum and danced like a dickhead.
Recovered all day saturday, before starting again on the Stoli.
Purchased yet another pair of Deisel sunglasses.
Had my first workout session for 2 months.
Bumped into my ex, the smiling bastard.
Read heat magazine
Lost £100 playing poker
Finally admitted to myself that my hair IS receeding.
Considered growing a "Trump"Posted by Edd at 30.7.06
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Saturday
I have spent the past 9 hours surfing (the net). Its a beautiful day, warm though a little cloudy and I haven't even left my office. How fucking sad.I think better explain (make excuses). Last night I was partying in Harrogate with the fabulous Miss C and Miss C2. Ministy of Sound Minibar was the place, Rum was the drink, bad was the dancing. I love going there, it is the most pretentious place in the gate, everyone trys there hardest to look suave and "cool" keeping up their reserve and barriers to fun.
I however couldn't give a shit. I have nothing to prove no one to impress and nothing to loose. If I get in the zone, which I was last night, I let rip. Dancing like a demon, grinding like a ghetto princess on smack, and mincing like ill never mince again. I am Harrogate, I stand for everything that's wrong with the world, and I fucking love it.
Im currently nursing a large stoli tonic and a L&M (fake marlboros), hair of the dog never tasted soo good. If any of my friends are reading this I wanna go out. Im soo dam bored. Call me, call me now. Miss C if your there pick up the phone, its 8:20pm, if u wanna Im up for it any time upto 10pm.xLater Bitches.x
Posted by Edd at 29.7.06
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I have never.....
I have never.....
......been soo fucking angry. Royal Mail- the world most inneficiant corrupt company has my phone. Firstly they try to deliver my new phone at 9am by nocking on the door. Why not use the door bell. "Company policy" apparently, who makes theese policies? probably a collective of wankers who live in ground floor one room appartments not large family homes where you cant even hear you own family never mind some mincing postie "nocking" on a door.They then leave a card asking you to call a number. I spent an hour and 10 minutes trying to get through- to no avail.
So i then ring my local post office where the post mistress (who is an arrogant stuck up pie munching bitch) tells me "ring the number" Fat fucking bitch. I swear if I had been there in person I would have given her the biggest bitch slap know to man (gay men).
So now the only option is to go to the collection office (which closes at lunch time, bone idol bastards) at 7am on monday.
So not only have I paid £10 to have this piece of crap "delivered" i also have to collect it my self when I should be in bed dreaming of Jake Gyllenhaal.
Soooooooooo FUCKING ANGRy. All I want is my Dolce and Gabbana. I hope to god the sorting office blows up in some freaky accident (after monday morning). AND I hope the burger bingeing bitch has one to many and has a nasty coronary
Artwork by a Rachel.
Posted by Edd at 29.7.06
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Tuesday
I love the DG razr more than Dolce and Gabbana do!
Oh my god. My obsessiveness worked. Better than I ever could have imagined. Im now ranked 18th. But it gets a whole lot better. I have some how mannaged to move Dolce and gabbanna 5 whole place below me. It is official call the press-I love the DG Razr more than Dolce and Gabbana
Posted by Edd at 25.7.06
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DG Razr
What possesed me last night to writ an episode of Murder She Wrote? Oh yeah - A £3 a bottle Vodka from Prague.I have had quite a number of hits recently from people searching the net for DG Razr. Thought id check it out on Google. Turns out im am ranked number number 20 for "DG Razr". Even google knows how much i need this phone. There are only 19 people in the whole fucking world more obsessed with the phone, and most of them are phone companies or ebay.
I worship the Dolce Gabbana Gospel. If any one from DG reads this post please please please send me one. Once more chant for luck. DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr DG Razr i LOVE dg rAZRS.
Posted by Edd at 25.7.06
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Monday
Murder She wrote - Unseen episode
My money mysteries have been solved. May be just may be I dont spend nearly as much money as I thought. Mother dearest has just presented me with £150 of my money which she found in the tumble dryer (which she rarely uses-cheapskate bitch-love her really).I can just imagine that old bitch from Murder She Wrote (MSW) grasping her flash lamp as she so easily breaks into my house.
Mother Dearest: "My son spends sooo much money I won't believe its true"
MSW: "It cant be true, no one could spend that much. There must be another explaination...."
"Follow me......To the kitchen"
MSW: "Youve changes sex?oh well shit happens. Look in the tumble dryer i think I see something"
"Aha......."
CASE SOLVED. Que smug old bitch smirk & shocking theme tune.
Personally, I dont know which i find more disturbing. The fact I lost £150, or that i didnt spend it.
Posted by Edd at 24.7.06
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Moving on....
Today was back to reality with a bang. My life is soo fucking mundane. I spent the nearly the whole morning sifting though over 200 work emails. Blah blah this blah blah that. I fucking hate work, not my job, just the whole idea of ME working for a living.Moving on before bitterness sets in.
I was not born to work. I am a socialite trapped in a realtivley poor persons body. Do I really care that roulette turned over 0.5% less than it should have last week. No I dont. All I care about is me me me. Oh and my family and friends. OK seriously, above all else the most important thing in my whole world IS the Motorolla DG Razr.
Moving on before greed sets in.
A huge congratulations to Mr J and Miss S who are soon to become Mr & Mrs J&S.
Moving on before I envy begins ;~)
Last weeks eastern european peasant food and free flowing £1 a pint beers have left their toll on my unforgiving body. Although I still appear (to the outside world) skeletal, I feel and look morbidly obese (overstatment of the year). I actually look more like a white, ginger, starving ethiopian with a huge belly, except my belly is filled with shitty food and cheap beer.
Moving on before I offend more than usual.
I am currently channeling my inner Lindsay Lohan. I have cut back down to 2 meals a day max, no snacks, shit loads of espressos, countless duty free fags and as much vodka as my liver will take. I found out today that the liver regenerates. Why was I never told that at school. I shall never again feel guilty for drinking, not that I ever have or would.
Moving on to tomorrow.
Later Bitches.x
Posted by Edd at 24.7.06
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Saturday
United States of Love
Oh my god, i just came in my pants. If i only do one more thing before I die I want it to be the love parade in berlin.I love love love this song- I swear this vid brought a tear to my eye. United States of Love.
Turn u your volume and put your hands in the air
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=is9nqgUt0tI
Posted by Edd at 22.7.06
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Lust
Im really going to live to regret this post. Gossip travells fast in these parts of the world, especially as im the only gay blogger in the village / harrogate.Its been a while, but im in Lust again. He has the perfect body, makes me smile, and is a huge flirt. Only problem is hes atleast 95% str8. Ive known him for arround a year now (on and off) and it doesnt get any easier. Atleast I have finally admitted it to myself, i can now begin to get over him. I strongly believe that to get over one person you must get under another. But who? I suppose theres always the guy who i always flirt with in Montys. Though he is the same age as my younger brother. Not ideal.
If last week in Prague taught me anything, its that I really dont want to go through my whole life alone. I have already (give or take a few months here and there) spent the past 22.5 years alone.
And it fucking sucks.
Later Bitches.x
Posted by Edd at 22.7.06
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Friday
Prague
The Bitch is Back.Prague (Praha) was enchanting. . Despite the recent boom in tourism, the city still feels somewhat unspoiled. If you ignored the countless McDonalds and dreadful souvenir shops , it was like going back in time to a romantic, almost gothic era. A time when buildings were built with passion and beauty in mind.
This photo of me and mother dearest (I cut her off) was taken on a trip up the river. I usually don't go in for the whole tourist trip thing but this was worth putting my snobbery aside. The views of Charles Bridge, the castle and of the city as a whole were breathtaking. Hell it must of been good - this is the only known photo of me actually smiling!
Me reverting to my pre extensive and expensive dental work, when I had to smile with my mouth covered- to minimize the risk of mentally scaring small children for life. (my teeth were really REALLY bad)
Another touristy photo courtesy of my father. What was I thinking, my whole look is somewhat questionable. But despite not looking my best (understatement of the year) I cant resist a man in uniform.
I want to join the Czech army, Czech out the bit of butch above.
Paying a little too much attention to my ice cream. 35degrees all week.The only thing I didn't care for was the food. It was true peasant food, bland cheap and fucking crap. One day we ate at relatively good restaurant, set in an old courtyard, very nice setting. For starter I ordered "Meat Roll" which I was assured was a popular Czech dish. What I received was a piece of ham rolled up and filled with squirty cream. What the fuck. This must be Prague sweet n sour. I literally pissed my self with laughter, to the point where I think I offended the owner and several local diners. I couldn't physically look at the dish with out breaking out in a fit of giggles. Main course- although it didn't have a comedy angle, wasn't much better.
One place which I adored was the nameless club on Karlovy Lazne, directly next to Charles bridge. It is the biggest nightclub in eastern europe with its five floors of drunken debauchery. Me and my brother arrived around midnight and partied till 6am. The top floor where we spent most of the night dancing like demons played a mixture of heavy club classics and future tunes. My favorite feature in the club was a 20ft high statue of an alien on a crucifix which had red laser's coming out of its eyes, directly above him was the DJ (GOD is literally a DJ)
Even though I spent most of the week drunk and flirty the only bit of action/attention I received all week was from Prague's airport security. Despite not setting off the metal detector, this very attractive customs man decided to frisk me, paying a considerable amount of attention to my nether regions. The filthy bastard was loving it, he kept sliding me cheeky smiles everything he groped my ass. Not that I was complaining. My only regret was that he didn't strip search me.Well its back to UK with a bang. Mr S is in the UK I believe, which means party time. Plus I have just heard that my spiritual home for the past 3years is closing down. With the final party on saturday. I just need to work out how to find the money to go out (I spent a small fortune in Prague).
Thats it for now. Im off to the spa for a swim, jaccuzi and steam to remove all traces of the week from my tired looking skin.
Later Bitches.x
Posted by Edd at 21.7.06
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Monday
Porn
Im currently enjoying coffee from the executive lounge at Leeds Airport. I figured if I have to fly cattle class I may as well put my own pretentious spin on it. . Its packed in here today, well theres about 15 other people (all suits flying to london), but unfortunaltey there are no celebs. We have created soo many celebraties over the pas few years I think they now have a special (or not soo special airport lounge. I bet there are actually more people in that lounge than in mine, imagine all those z' listers 100's of them struggling to find a seat in over crouded "celebratie" lounge, drinking free vodkas to wash down their mornig Zanax whilst waiting for the next easyjet flight to San Tropez (so Ironic) he he the fuckers. I love these rooms, theres always one person who's sole mission in life is to abuse the free bar, and it doesnt matter that it 7:15 in the morning What makes it soo funny is the way they try to freeload with faux class and sophistication, even though everyone knows theyre a fish out of water. What wrong with theese people? Have they never seen a free bar before. Kick em out thats what I say. People like that make it event harder for people like me to blag entry.
A little porn to moisten your mornings. I swear if this phone was a person Id want him to rape me all night long.
Posted by Edd at 17.7.06
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Sunday
World, Hold on
My Social Lepracy has been cured. Im a terrible hypercondriac (did I spell that right?).Turns out my friends are still my friends. Miss C isnt pissed for my departure, Miss E and my phone are in some bumfuck Island in the Med, and Mr J knew I would forget his birthday - because I always do. I actually did remember his birthday this year, but my phone is off globetrotting, getting a tan and probaly having a holliday romance with a DG Razr. I swear every time I loose my phone or It goes on exotic hollidays I swear that when I get it back I will write down all my phone numbers so that my life doesnt come to a hault, but every time I get back the phone I can never be bothered.
It has been suggested that I may not be quite gay enough. So I took the Gay-O-Meter test.
Its official, call the press. Im only 67% gay.
It seems that same sex sex, a love of clothes, living way beyond your means, and the ability to turn bitching into an olympic sport are no longer enough to be a proper gay. I knew what I had to do. The answer was so simple.I needed to do what any gay man would do in this situation. I needed to buy some new shoes and a white belt.
And I did.
I wish I had a better camera. White belt by Topman £?
Theses are officially the campest trainers I could find in Topman. This photo doesnt do them justice.
Oh I also bought a few tops, heres my favourite. Its a knitted polo shirt. Yes, it does look a lot like my granmothers curtains, but I believe the term is retro. I love the whole retro vintage phase in fashion at the moment. I swear it was just invented so fashion houses could sell us any old crap they had laying arround provided it looked as fucking old and knackerd as possible. I cant believe how much it all cost (or didnt cost), I bought shit loads and it all cost less than id normally pay for one Rita Valpianni shirt. Check out my my sexy blue bed sheets.Thats where the magic never happens.
Im off to drink coffee, chain smoke filthy rollups and pack the Louis Vuitton, Im off to Prague to buy sunglasses and fondle eastern europeans.
Later Bitches.xx
Posted by Edd at 16.7.06
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Wednesday
DG Razr / braving peasnt wagons
Words can not convey how much I want the new Dolce Gabanna V3i Motorola Razr.
It doesnt matter that I have no one to ring me or even no one to ring. What matters is looking the part. They say men think about sex every 7 seconds. I however think about the DG RAzr every 3 seconds. I can barely function, all my brain functions focussing and dreaming about this seductive, hypnotic phone. It cant be healthy for me to give this much of a shit about a dam phone.I would more than happily sell my family to canibalistic, inbred, rapist gypsies just so I could get my hand on one of theese babies. Why did it have to be released when im completly broke. I swear to god if I can get my grubby mitts on one of thoses I will never again want for anything. Well atleast until Gucci step on the bandwagon and release a Gucci G monorchome phone (preferably in brown/red). What next, a phone in burbery check for the chavs/undertones of brittain.
Speaking of which, I had a terrible journey today on the peasant wagon. My taxi bill for last month came yesterday, and my oh my (I broke out in a cold sweat when I read it). Long story short I will now be taking a few less taxis each week. I decided to brave the peasant wagon again today. ... I had to wait over half an hour for the privallage of sitting next to some fat, sweaty, greasy bitch. Why cant busses have first class like trains do, I would more than happily sit at the front of the bus on my own in comfort and relative luxury whilst the rest of the passangers were cramped into the back like cattle. I swear, never again......Until next time.
I am strongly considering relocating, to Bermuda. Firstly, I love the Caribbean. Secondly, Accountants are in very high demmand. Thirdly (most importantly) the island is tax free, I would keep every dam penny I earnt. Oh and fourthly, the average starting salary is arround £40k which would mean a nice £3.5k in my pocket each month. The only down side is I would have to be at ther very least part qualified. That means at least another 18 months if hell hole harrogate, but more probably 2 1/2 years. To be honest its a small price to pay, for a life time of high earnings and fucking fabulous lifestyle, plus I would finally be able to afford Paul Smith Suits (£1200+ each). The only down side to bermuda is that non locas are not allowed to work there for more than 6 years (hence the constant demmand).
Over the past two weeks, with out really trying I have mannaged to unofficially (no One is speaking to me) fall out with all my UK friends, yes thats right, all 3 of them (Im genralizing, I have group of friends, but you loose one, you loose them all).
I have social lepracy once again.
It was Mr J's birthday 21st last week. For starters I was unable to join him/the group for a week in the sun, due to work commitments. Then I went and left my fone with Miss E, meaning I was unable to ring him with congrats. Then Miss E stopped speaking to me, possibly (definatley) for dancing too much with Miss C (she still has my phone). Listen, the only time you should get jealous arround me is when I purchase the new DG Razr. Dolce Gabbana envy is the only acceptable form of jealousy. Then I left Miss C alone in Leeds. I have had not one UK call in nearly two weeks. Agreed, although none of it was intentional It was all my fault. Ive got one word to say to you all. FORGIVNESS. Although my fault, I will accept YOUR appologies in the form of a DG Razr.
Next week promises to be good. I shall be jetting off to Prague (though on a low cost airline) for a few days of sun, sex and champers. Then Mr S is visiting from Spain.
Now scroll to the top of the page, click on the paypal donate Icon and send me £300 or $500 so I can order something, guess what. I'll pay you back, promise promise. Cross my heart and hope you die.
Later bitches.xx
Posted by Edd at 12.7.06
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I am 15% White Trash.
I, my friend, have class. I am so not white trash. . I am more than likely Democrat, and my place is neat, and there is a good chance I may never drink wine from a box. Posted by Edd at 12.7.06
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Saturday
Drug Ship Federation
Saturday Night. Miss C and I went to Federation (a once a month club event in Leeds). It has served as my spiritual home for the past few years (I take a bunch of substances and dance my tits off until I find god/devil)
Our first port of call was Queens court and Fibre, for champagne cocktails (very ab fab darling). I have never felt soo badly dressed. Harrogate has had a bad effect on my sense of style. Although I was wearing all labels (expensive ones too) I looked like shit. Shit in a Harvey nicks bag, but shit is shit, rich or poor. I had forgotten how pretentious Fibre is. Literally everybody looks you up and down, trying to guess your worth (both physical and financial), rating you and judging.
A year ago, when I was a self promoting attention whore I would have loved the attention. As they say all press is good press. A year on, self judgment/doubt has moved in and put its feat on the table. I had a amazing time with Miss C, who may I add is the best company, and always looks stunning and stylish without looking like shes tried, plus she loves to party.
I really pulled out the stops, chatting to new people, dancing, flirting etc etc. Turns out what I thought all along was true. Nobody wants me. I have always known I was unattractive, but for years I have deluded myself, embellishing my own truths. Believing that there is a guy out there for me, just waiting to meet and sweep me off my feet. Believe me, if you cant pull in federation you cant pull any where (I didn't).
Moving on, Fedearation now has a VIP area. For me it goes against the whole vibe of the place. Fed has always been a place for drink and drug fuelled debauchery. Imagine a Channel couture crack den. Fabulous yet filthy. I had to check it out though, if theres a VIP room, im there in a flash. Just try keep me away ("do you know who I am" is my middle name).
The club manager did initially try rejecting me at theVIP entrance for not being on "the guest list". I simply yet dramatically looked him in the eye in a Karen Walker Stylee, rolled my eyes, put my hand to my chest and said in a bored faux pissed off kind a way "Im a rich bitch, darling" His face was priceless, full of apology and sincerity. He then scurried off to fetch our drinks. I love it when the manager of a club becomes your own personal bitch. The seats were pretty cool, Airline seats from Virgin First class (probably from eBay), which reminded me I need to fly first class again as soon as possible (hopefully Ill get to sit next to Jude Law, again , like last time, yet this time he'll be going though a bi curious mile high phase) Budget airlines have taken the glamour out of flying. I was born to travel first class, like Donatella Versace (Nutella Versace) was born to be orange.
Back to VIP, I met the guy of my dreams, sat on in the Airline seat next to me, dark hair, gorgeous and dressed in Vivienne Westwood, which put my dolce, Boss and Armani mess in its rightful place (the gutter). We talked for ages, we really seemed to connect, then he fucked off back to his boyfriend. Men. Did my Tshirt say wanker magnet. No it didn't, yet they all managed to find me. In clubs I generally attract the unsavoury characters, the ugly crowd, and the mentally unstable. Mind you it beats listening to the beautiful crowd discuss how beautiful they are. I guess I must be giving off a freakshow vibe (yet another reason to call Plastic surgeon).
I introduced Miss C, to my drag queen friend Miss Shaun, pictured above on the left, who was looking flawless as usual in their OTT costumes. Miss C and I were also photographed, but I wont be showing it here. I don't wanna put you off your breakfast, lunch and dinner. In the photo Miss C looks great as always, but I however, look truly awful. I look like a smack head with cerebal pausey. Grim, truly grim. Now every time I question why im single and lonely all I have to do is look at the photo for the answer.I then did a terrible thing. For which I am deeply ashamed. I left Miss C alone in Leeds. On the way to the after party at Mission I came crashing back down to earth. I felt sick, tired and just wanted to get home. I tried and tried to get her to come home with my but she wanted to stay out and party. I left her at Mission. If you ever read this please know Im sorry. At the time I wasn't thinking straight, when I woke up the next day I realized what a fool I had been. I shouldn't have left you. Please, please forgive me.
Posted by Edd at 8.7.06
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What a wanker, what a fucking wanker
My internet connection died on me last weekend, hence the delay in my post.Lets go back a week. Friday night. Miss C was back from spending a year in Roma and we had a lot to catch up. The drinks flowed, we chatted, told stories and bitched, just like old times. More friends old (Miss E, Mr T etc) and new joined us. At one stage we were infectious poeple magnets. Every where we went we attracted more and more people, flocking to us like lesbians to fish. Most people who had joined our group I loved like family. But there were one or two who i loved like cancer, but i still made the effort (one guy was a serious nut job, several slices short of a loaf- I personally reckon he'll be an infamous serial killer by the time he's 30 - but thats for another time).
Miss C, Miss E and myself partied hard and danced harder. My god I missed my Miss C. Sweetie darling your the only dancer for me. Miss Thang no one can dance like us (or would probably want2 ;-). We ended the night in our usual haunt, Moko Lounge. Once difference though, it felt like teenybopper night, plus the music was fucking appauling, I mean Beyonce in a club. (imagine my hand raised, palm pushed outwards as I say this) PPPlease, what am I a 14 year old girl? In all a blinder of a night
Sorry, its 3.30 am. Im drunk and im off to bed. Ill finish the post later.
Hasta lluego bitches.xx
Posted by Edd at 8.7.06
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Dreams
I didnt want to share this with you, because to be quite honest its a little creepy. But if figured to hell with it, verbalising the problem may help to solve it. You see, on and off for the past month Ive been having the same dream. Last night it was at its most vivid.Ok, my dream, always the same:
Its late, I dont know exactly where I am but it feels very familiar, safe even.A short albino man with no hair (he looks a little like the "My precious" creature from that excruciating film) brings me a gift. He hands it to me with an air of mystery. There feels to be great importance surrounding the gift. The gift turns out to be a Chanel Lipstick in Colour No7 Natural Look, which happens to be the axact same colour as my skin.
The albino the slowly dissapears into the darkness.
It is then apparent that I am not alone. I turn to find I am with a person who has no face. Although I know not who the person is, I know its a female and that we are good friends. I then show her the Lipstick gift and she tells me so profoundly that Channel Lipstick looks great, but once dry it will hurt your lips. Then I wake.
Why the hell do I keep having this dream. More importantly why the hell is an Albino giving me Chanel lippy. Maybe this is my inner transvestite trying to surface. Except I am perfectly satisfied with my masculinity, and have never had a desire to don drag. Maybe I have a sordid Albino fettish, who knows?