Selfies enrage me. I mean, fine, post a photo of yourself from time to time with your significant other or in a significant place, and we all need to update our profile pictures sometimes. New hair, new lipstick: great, but I am sent into paroxysms of fury by people...
I love shoes but I don't wear them in my house. I never have. Boots muddy from walking the dogs are allowed into the hall but that is as far as they go. There they sit, the proud workwear hoi polloi of shoes, mixing with all manner of ballerina flats; leopard...
I've always felt a gut-dragging revulsion for "bits": small pieces of matter that are out of place, not where they should be. Sometimes just the thought of out-of-place bits is enough to make me gag. I remember once that my dad had a small piece of white...
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Selfies enrage me. I mean, fine, post a photo of yourself from time to time with your significant other or in a significant place, and we all need to update our profile pictures sometimes. New hair, new lipstick: great, but I am sent into paroxysms of fury by people...
I love shoes but I don't wear them in my house. I never have. Boots muddy from walking the dogs are allowed into the hall but that is as far as they go. There they sit, the proud workwear hoi polloi of shoes, mixing with all manner of ballerina flats; leopard...
I've always felt a gut-dragging revulsion for "bits": small pieces of matter that are out of place, not where they should be. Sometimes just the thought of out-of-place bits is enough to make me gag. I remember once that my dad had a small piece of white...
Always great, isn't it, when someone smashes your mirror off your car and then drives off. No, it's not my driving. Being small I tend to leave too much room, if anything, between me and the kerb. And it looks like this happened when my car was parked in a Petts Wood...
Selfies enrage me. I mean, fine, post a photo of yourself from time to time with your significant other or in a significant place, and we all need to update our profile pictures sometimes. New hair, new lipstick: great, but I am sent into paroxysms of fury by people...
I love shoes but I don't wear them in my house. I never have. Boots muddy from walking the dogs are allowed into the hall but that is as far as they go. There they sit, the proud workwear hoi polloi of shoes, mixing with all manner of ballerina flats; leopard...
I've always felt a gut-dragging revulsion for "bits": small pieces of matter that are out of place, not where they should be. Sometimes just the thought of out-of-place bits is enough to make me gag. I remember once that my dad had a small piece of white...
Always great, isn't it, when someone smashes your mirror off your car and then drives off. No, it's not my driving. Being small I tend to leave too much room, if anything, between me and the kerb. And it looks like this happened when my car was parked in a Petts Wood...
Jeans are a pain, aren't they? Don't get me wrong, I have as many pairs as anyone else but for me they aren't the solid, catch-all comfy-yet-sexy utility wear that perhaps they were intended to be. They never fit properly. Or if you ever do manage to find a pair that...
I share my contempt for the humble stinging nettle.
I’ve had it up to here with earphones.
And another thing that irks me.
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