A simple invitation to dinner is always a turning point in my friendships. It is when I reveal the complex knot of food neuroses I have collected over the years, which means it is the point where I either alienate a friend or find a kindred spirit. And so, I’ve written a short essay about food – my food – and the things which are Good For Consumption, and the things which are Not Good. Feel free to print it out and keep as as crib sheet.
New Thing!
Hi everyone!
Yes, the blog is still largely neglected, and for that I apologise profusely. But!
*Bright smile*
Here’s an occasional new feature to make me seem less crap! From time to time, I will be writing short (or long) essays and putting them up on the blog. They’re not necessarily going to be about any one thing in particular, and they’re more likely, at this stage, to err on the silly side, but I hope you like them. It’s a way for me to exercise my writing muscle (heh) without posting my mangled fiction.
The first of these goes up tomorrow morning, and is about food.
I hope you enjoy.
PS: The answer to your slightly confused question, “But how will these be any different to everything else you write on here?” is um, because these will be tagged ‘Essays’. Ahem.
The Friday Pretty: Sci-Fi/Cult Dudes
*SIGH*
Look. I could spend this entire post apologising for the quietness on the blog these past few weeks. Or I could just say it once and mean it and get on with the show. I’M SORRY. I have been battling a combination of extreme busyness (in work and life in general), my insomnia has been ridiculous in recent weeks and consequently, I have not been in the best place to devise ideas for blog posts. Sincere pologies.
With that out of the way, how about we commence this week’s official perving responsibilities? This week’s theme was requested by long-time TFP-watcher and perv, MamaS (you may have seen her in the comments section more than once). It’s Sci-Fi/Cult TV week here on TFP, only minus any boring discussions about dilithium crystals. YOU’RE WELCOME.
We begin with your favourite, TFP‘s favourite, everyone’s favourite, Nathan Fillion. He first came to TFP‘s attention back in Two Guys and A Girl (remember that show?), playing Johnny, the hunky – and yes, the use of this word has been checked and found to be appropriate – jukebox repair man. Then, he put on the tight trousers of destiny and became Captain Mal Reynolds in Firefly (much-missed, much-loved TV show) and in Serenity (much-loved movie). He was everything: funny, witty, strong, sensitive, noble and also really, really hot. Sometimes, TFP dreams about being in a sandwich with Mal, Inara and Saffron. A filthy sandwich with no bread. Ahem:
The Friday Pretty: ‘Justin Time’ Edition
TFP‘s favourite French word – after charcuterie – is Vendredi. You know why? It means Friday i.e. the official start of ‘Le Weekend’ as well as the designated day for perving. Let’s not be coy – Friday is when TFP comes alive. Hopefully, today’s selection will perk you up too. Strap in, lovelies, for it’s time for The Friday Pretty!
Made In Nigeria
Yesterday on Facebook, I came across this post on Anglo-Nigerian publisher Jeremy Weate’s page:
“In Aba, they make Italian-style shoes from Kano leather which are labelled “Made in Italy”. No one would buy them if they said “Made in Nigeria”, although everyone knows they are made locally. Nigerians don’t trust products made in Nigeria and prefer to pretend they were made elsewhere. How can this attitude be turned around?”
It’s something I think about often.
The Friday Pretty: Crushes of the Week
Harambee brothers and sisters! How are you all doing? Are you well? Are you fed? Are you warm? Praises! It’s Friday, you know. I’d like to apologise unreservedly for last week’s no-show – blame extra work and extra tiredness. But be assured that even during the quiet weeks, when the hot dudes are thin on the (blog) ground, the perving never sleeps. Never. And so, it’s time to kick off your shoes (Odour-Eaters permitting, obvs), relax your neck and perv for all you’re worth – it’s The Friday Pretty!
We begin the show with a special shout-out to lovely Anna, whose love for Paul Rudd is everlasting and legendary. She has worked through his imdb listing (we’re going to see Our Idiot Brother when it comes out), she has kept photos I’ve torn out of magazines for her. She really loves Paul Rudd. And why shouldn’t she? He’s a hell of a man – so twinkly, so funny, so damn charming. Also, he fine!
The Friday Pretty: The ‘Did The Earth Move For You Too?’ Edition
Sweet lord, it’s Friday. Finally, Friday! DID YOU HEAR ME? IT’S FRIDAY!
Hope you’re all good, fully recovered from last week’s extravaganza (which, by the way, has claimed the title for the most-viewed The Friday Pretty post Of. All. Time. You dirty perving buggers.) Today’s TFP title is inspired by the earthquake that hit the East Coast on Wednesday. Here’s hoping today’s buffet of hot dudes, er, shakes up your epicentre. Or something. It’s time for The Friday Pretty!
Oh, hell no!*
*I want you all to imagine that in the sharp tones of authoress Ms Maya Wilkes (played by actress Golden Brooks in much-missed sitcom Girlfriends)
Tuesday afternoon’s rain brought with it a thick fug of wild rumours of the demise of the relationship between Will Smith and Jada Pinkett. (And of course, the firm assurances that they were not splitting up.) Look, I don’t know Will or Jada and they sure as spit don’t know me. And really, what concern is it of mine if they’ve decided to end their relationship? But even so, WAAAAH!
On ‘sexy’ accents
In the course of my job, I have been invited to speak on radio programmes, about subjects that I have some knowledge of. I’ll be honest, it’s always thrilling – “Me? Really? YOU REALLY LIKE ME!” – and appeals to the inner social retard Hollywood has convinced me exists deep inside. Anyway, after one such excursion down the hallowed hallways of the BBC (they drive you home afterwards and everything) my younger brother said to me: “Man, you sounded so posh!” I can’t even lie – I do posh up for the radio. I can’t help it – my ‘serious journalist’ voice is also my Received Pronunciation voice. How do you do?
The Friday Pretty: All Black Everything
*Rebecca Black voice* FRIDAY, FRIDAY, GOTTA GET DOWN ON FRIDAY… Don’t act surprised – TFP will take Fridays any way it can.
How are you all doing? Hope the week’s been smooth sailing for you. TFP had a good week: an offer of work – woot! – a catch up with friends and even time to visit the cinema and perv on a curiously smooth Chris Evans in Captain America. It would’ve been a flawless week (seriously, those pecs are huge) if not for the distressing report from the desk of Idris Elba. In an interview with The Life Files, he said:
“Black men… we’re never called ‘sexy’. We’re called ‘athletic’, you know what I mean? Or ‘intense’…We’re described as being the ‘strong type’, the ‘silent type’ but we’re never really described as ‘the sexy’, you know what I mean?
See the full clip below:
Um, sir. What are you smoking?
But I Love Telly!
Dismaying news from Australia this week, as reports reach us of new research published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine. Apparently, “every hour of TV watched after the age of 25 may shorten lifespan by 22 minutes”.
#SOULCRY
WHY MUST YOU TAKE AWAY THE FEW PLEASURES I HAVE, UNIVERSE?
PLUG! Broadcasting House, 14 August
I recorded a (very) short piece about the London riots – specifically Hackney – over the weekend. It’s available to listen on the iPlayer until the very precise time of 10:02 on Sunday, 21 August.
My ego thanks you.
The Friday Pretty: The “Are you tired? Cos you’ve been running through my mind all day!” Edition
Blessed Friday: it’s so good to see you!
Phew. It’s been a bit of a weird week here in the UK, what with the pesky business of civil unrest, so if you don’t mind, we’re just going to launch into TFP with minimal preamble. If anyone deserves some tasty man-candy, it’s you pervs. Let’s not tarry: Here’s The Friday Pretty!
In the breaks between endlessly refreshing Twitter for news on the riots and wearing a hole in the floor from pacing restlessly in front of the telly, TFP stumbled onto Tumblr and spotted Enrique Marciano. You know, him from Without A Trace. He reminds TFP of a Cuban Paul Rudd. [related: he could get it]:
Black Thursdays*: The London riots, me on NPR and ‘whitewashing’ the clean ups
We’ve all been glued to the internet and our TV screens for the last few days, watching as London seemingly imploded. So many voices have piped up with opinions (like areseholes, we’ve all got one) and they range from the ‘WTF?’ (see Max Hastings in Daily Mail – highlights include references to polar bears, wild beasts, DIY, and royal weddings) to the factual – Paul Lewis and James Harkin painting a picture of who the looters were, to the ‘Hmm, interesting’ – Zoe Williams on the psychology of looting.
As a Hackney local with a keen journalistic eye (ahem), I myself was invited onto On Point with Tom Ashbrook on NPR to talk about the London riots. You can hear the audio of my American radio adventure here. I am wary of adding my voice to the cacophony of voices already out there – really, there’s only so much one can read before going cross-eyed – but here goes:
I cannot condone the violence and looting of the riots. I just can’t. But I can note context; I believe it’s possible to do both of these things. I understand the frustration of many youths in these parts of London (I grew up in a council flat where my parents still live in Stratford and now reside 2o minutes away from my childhood home). I get the disaffectation, and the rage. I get that police mistrust is seemingly at an all time high, when more than 300 people have died in police custody since 1998 without a police conviction and when a black man is seven times more likely to be stopped and searched than any other group. I get that there is inequality on a scale that feels unreal.
Why I Love… Weddings
My first time as a member of a wedding party happened when I was four years old; I was a ‘little bride’ for my dad’s cousin’s wedding. Few photos of me in my full little bridal glory remain (in our household, that is – I’m sure there are many photos of my smiling visage in their house in north London), but it’s one of my earliest memories. I’m not surprised I recall it – I have enjoyed weddings for as long as I remember. I freakin’ love a good wedding.








