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“The Fidelius Charm is a complex and powerful Charm that takes a specific piece of information (the secret) and implants it into a being’s soul. The one whose soul houses the secret is known as the Secret-Keeper.”

So, very nerdy I know. But there is going to be some depth to this post. The nature of JK Rowling’s fidelius charm is to keep something completely secret, only allowing the people closest to you to know the secret, and forbidding them from muttering it to anyone else.

Imagine if magic were real, and this was a real charm.

Cool, huh?

So my question to you ladies and gents is which piece of information would you choose as your secret, and into the soul of whom would you choose to implant it? Here a few examples:

There is a tiny little rocky cove near Blackpool which I adore and have spent many a summer’s evening. Nobody else I know has ever found this space, therefore I would preserve this for myself by making it my secret. I would be the secret keeper myself.

I just pooped myself. Everyone who reads this is the secret keeper. Don’t tell anyone.

For those of you uncool people who don’t believe in reading Harry Potter then consider this question ‘Which piece of information would you like to keep secret, and who would you trust to keep it for you?”

Tell me.

The End.

BTW: You obviously don’t have to tell me your real deepest secret 🙂


This last week almost all of the things that were important to me as a child have been making an appearance in my life, therefore I thought it would be a good idea to make a blog post about the things that I enjoyed, feared and celebrated as a youngster. So, here we go…

Firstly the thing that I loved the mosy: HOLIDAYS!
So basically, me, my mom, my dad, my stepdad and my half-brother would go to the south of Spain or the south of Portugal for a week or two in the summer, everyone would get along with each other and it would be awesome. The best thing though, for me at least, was the people speaking Spanish, the situation literally went like this:
Spanish person:


Ok so, I wasn’t a baby, but you get the point.

There was another thing I liked doing, both on holiday AND at home in Blackpool:
Building sancastles was the best thing ever, picture if you will a five year old James in his little sun hat and sandals building himself a sandcastle at Blackpool beach with an enormous grin. Cute? I know, even though I say so myself 😉

My favourite song has to be included,

Then there are the things I hated,

I was terrified of ghosts, fortunately I had someone to protect me!

So yes, I had a teddy. He was God. He protected me from the scary things XD but hey, I was only a little kiddy.


So there you go, there is much more that i could put here but if I did this post would go on forever and ever. Therefore I am forcing myself to stop.


Living in Blackpool it is not by any means uncommon for one to come across a few drunken individuals, especially on a Friday or Saturday night. Therefore I have decided to make a post apropos of the atypical and rather amusing behaviour that I have seen from the local ‘drunkards’.

I shall begin with the the most recent of my encounters with a drunk. This occurred a few nights ago, whilst walking from a bar to my home I witnessed a gentleman (who had clearly enjoyed one too may) attempt to stop a road full of fast traveling cars, insisting that he was going to perform opera and required an audience. Needless to say no cars stopped, and when he got too dangerous the police involved themselves. This ‘provoked’ him into beginning his concert, giving me the pleasure of hearing ‘Volare ohhhhh bam bare oh oh bam baaaam’ in a high pitched squeal.
Drunk rating:

Secondly I will mention a simple story, one that I shouldn’t find amusing as the person involved came very close to serious personal injury. Whilst sitting on my parent’s balcony enjoying my own alcoholic beverage my attention was drawn to a distraught neighbour who appeared to be climbing out of her upstairs window screaming for help .I immediately panicked, assuming she must be in danger. I panicked even more when i saw her fall from the window and crash through her greenhouse. (I feel this needs an exclamation mark)

Horrific, right? Well no. Because it was later revealed that she was attempting to escape a renegade dustbin which, after a select amount of alcohol, had turned nasty and attempted to kill her. The lady was fine, and not surprisingly she has now left the area.
Drunk rating:

My final story refers to myself, as I am partial to a bottle of spirit or three myself. After spending a night on the town with friends I realized it was time to open shop and start serving. This is at 7AM, when I am still completely worse for ware and my staff are all starring at me expectantly. Due to my level of intoxication was was more than a little merry and chose to stand at the door greeting customers myself. It was going well:

This lasted a whole thirty minutes before I got insulted by a drag artist (keep in mind that on all other occasions I love a good man in drag, they are funny). On this one however my drunken mind took great offense to the insult I received.

My reaction?
“HE’S A F***ING MAN!” I screamed, whilst ripping his wig from his head and flinging it out into the street, we shared an argument of shouts before my family were called to remove me from the premises. This was the most embarrassing moment in my life.
Drunk rating:

So there you go people. Three stories of drunkards. Hope you enjoyed.

Salut mes petits amours! After the runaway (cough) success of my German Insults post I decided to seek inspiration from another race who are known to be quite frivolous with their words, the French. So here are my favourite romantic French phrases for you to try out on your other half.

Je vis d’amour et d’eau douce | I live on love and fresh water
(50% of my french friends insist on ‘douce’. the other 50% and some others insist it’s fraiche)
Que mes baisers soient les mots d’amour que je ne te dis pas | My kisses are the unspoken words of love!
Je respire l’odeur de ton corps | I breath the smell of your body (don’t use if they stink)
Fait-il chaud ici, ou c’est juste toi? | Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?
Comme si j’étais la lune et tu étais les étoiles. | As if I were the moon and you were the stars

For the homosexuals amongst us:
Je préfère les rapports anaux | I prefer anal persuits
Un peu de plastique n’est pas un probleme pour moi! | A little plastic is not a problem for me!

Ok, so the last ones aren’t genuinely romantic, I found them on comedy sites. But you liked them, right? ;) (& sorry if they offended you moody readers)

So, there you go, my second post of the day. I would like you to remember this as the rennaisance of my blogging career, my return to posting after a three day break :P

Au revoir mes amours,


Ever wanted to be a celebrity? Well, although you can’t walk around your own town pretending to be something you are not there is no reason one can’t spend one’s holidays under a guise that is not their own. Here are a few (not too serious) instructions as to how you can do so yourself, and on a budget too, so there’s no reason you can’t jet off to the south of France signing autographs at the weekend 🙂

Step 1:
Take your credit card and shoot off to the high street, you need to dress more or less like this: (with a pair of enormous, face blocking sunglasses too)

Pic: http://www.ministryoffashion.com

Step 2:
Get online and book yourself a pair of flights to one of the following destinations:
Cannes, Cote d’Azur, France
Marbella, Costa del Sol, Spain
Rome, Italy.
Zadar, Dalmation Coast, Croatia.

Now, it is of vital importance that you travel in coach, where there will be lots of ‘normal’ people to see you. Secondly, get whoever you are traveling with to carry their camera out-of-case, preferably around their neck and avoid talking to them too much. You need to walk into the queue, onto the plane, and into your seat with swagger – making sure that you are slow enough for everyone in the vicinity to notice you.

Step 3:
It doesn’t matter where you stay, your hotel room is just for the night and I advise you get the cheapest one you can so that you can spend more money being in the limelight. Spend the entire day perched on the beach, sunglasses firmly on face and have your camera-holding friend bring you drinks form the chiringuito. From midday onwards it is vital that you drink nothing other than cocktails. Ideally you will make loud comments about having to break up your drinking with ‘at least two litres of water per day for your skin’ and needing ‘an orange juice to take your vitamin supplements with’.

As for evening meals ensure that everyone sees you eating, and hears you ordering, a salad. A few comments about weight and image wouldn’t go amiss here. Make the salad last at least three hours. Follow it with coffee. During the meal drink wine, no matter how cheap, just make sure it is in an ice bucket so as to hide the label from any onlookers.

Walk around the street as much as possible, this lets more people see you. Getting onto the guest list at the biggest clubs in town is important, but it’s actually quite easy, just get in contact with the club manager the week before (you can get their numbers on the web, usually facebook) If you have someone call as your ‘agent’ they will often be happy to give you free guest list entry, with free champagne. I advise you revel in the experience of marching past the queue straight into the action.

Step 4:
Switch places with your friend for the second day and flight home, allowing them to be the celeb and you the camera flasher.

Try this a few times, don’t push it too far though. After a while you will reach perfection, getting discounts and free drinks pretty much everywhere. I personally do this every time I travel, although I have only tried the ‘camera holding friend’ trick once, and on that occasion I actually got asked about my life and what I was doing in Spain.

Last tips:

  • Never speak for yourself, always have your friend order for you
  • At all times you should  have a copy of Vogue, or Vogue Homme for the guys (even if you don’t actually read it)
  • Make constant references to previous trips you have made to Paris, the Caribbean and London.
  • Always be over dressed, no matter how hot.

So there you go, your 4 steps to being a celebrity in Europe 😉


This is a TV commercial over here, the first time I saw it I knew I had to get other people to see it 😉

Hope you liked her 🙂

Pay the chicken back back, pay the chicken back 🙂

Let’s assess our lives.

You’re rich,
You want more.

You have lots of friends,
You want different ones.

You have great skills,
You want to be good at something else.

You have a great career,
You wish you had ‘that‘ job, or ‘this‘ job.

You have a lovely child,
You wish it has a little brother or sister to play with.

You live an a flat,
But wish you had a garden.

You live in a house,
You wish you had a balcony.


We do like to moan, don’t we?

But we love it.

Keep moaning people,

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