Hocus Pocus – Finding the Witch Within you …

Witches across the  USA gathered together at midnight on Friday 24th February to cast a spell on President Donald Trump seeking to remove him from office. The witches have pledged to cast a spell under each crescent moon until Trump is no longer president. The next few crescent moons are said to take place March 26, April 24 and May 23, which is just as well because I shall be here in LA until the beginning of May and I am a bona fide witch initiated into the coven at the Goddess Festival in Glastonbury back in the summer of 2000.

trump-tower Glastonbury was incredibly  female-centred that Goddess Festival week.  The streets were awash with oestrogen and the general vibrations were raised, supportive, bright and cheerful. My friend Margaret and I were looking forward to a weekend of jollity and empowerment and our programme listed all sorts of exciting workshops. We dutifully followed the route to the ‘Find the Witch Within You’ workshop which was taking place in the centre of town. We walked up a steep rickety staircase and entered a small room filled with the hazy fog of incense sticks and the glow of red candles.  In the centre we could just make out a bunch of women sitting cross legged. The walls were draped in billowing pink velvet and each woman held something large, pink and shiny in their hands.

We’d got ourselves lost and wandered into the ‘Build Your Own Womb’ workshop by mistake!

Giggling hysterically we eventually found the correct venue, (ironically a church hall). We were welcomed by  a bunch of women who looked suspiciously like they resided in the Amytiville House and I noticed that all the mirrors were covered in white sheets. After spending the morning pretending to be either air or water sprites, jumping over broomsticks, waving daggers in the air and mumbling gobbledegook into the four corners of the room we were allowed to have a special ‘brew’ designed to open up our third eye and raise our witchy consciousness. It kind of tasted like warm rusty water with a hint of bleach and did  nothing to open up my third eye even if I could have found it. We spent the afternoon dithering around making spell bags, chucking handfuls of salt at each other and learning pretty phrases like, ‘Blessed be’ and ‘Merry meet, merry part and merry meet again.’

sam-witchIt was a loving weekend. The women I met were kind and generous of spirit but I couldn’t get over the feeling that we were all just mucking about and having a jolly good time – even though there were some serious poker faces in that church hall and some determined invocations.

The greatest lesson I did learn however, was that whatever we invoke in our spells will come back threefold – so we must never wish anyone any direct harm:  a tall order when casting a binding spell against Mr Trump. It is for this particular reason that the Trump binding spell centres on wellbeing for all and universal peace. It is a spell for protection rather than a spell for malign action.

Good luck on March 26th, ladies, (and guys). I aim to be there in body to support you, if not in spirit. Any like minded witches can find the binding spell by googling, ‘Trump binding spell’. There are also plenty of Facebook groups out there if you would like support and information.

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It’s a family affair … my mum and sister make great witches too!

 

Hocus Pocus – Finding the Witch Within you …

Not just any old bacon – It’s ‘Celebrity Bacon!’

Look what I found at our local hidden away supermarket yesterday.  Celebrity Bacon!  Not just any old bacon, but bona fide, balloon-popping, bell-ringing, flag-waving celebrity bacon. Hey, c’mon this is Hollywood. Whadja expect?

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No flies on this bacon baby.  A cinch at $9.99 a pound, that’s about 8 quid at current exchange rates to us Brits. Cheap at half the price – and I wish it was half the price ‘cos this local supermarket is damn expensive.  True it may be the place to ‘celebrity spot’, being located in the posh end of town but it’s ridiculously expensive.  John and I never leave without spending between $200-300, and we only go in for a pint of milk!

Ooo just noticed, it’s imported celebrity bacon from Eastern Europe. Trump will either ban it or marry it …

I have no guilt about worshipping at the altar of Vicente Foods.  Although I’m quite happy with boring British Tesco or even Waitrose at a push, the aisles aren’t so pretty. Here you have every food product imaginable. I mean – just look at the sushi!

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And everyone is so nice and helpful here.  Being British … with that whiff of mild embarrassment  that follows us everywhere… I feel like a spare part when the staff automatically and very efficiently pack your food away in those stiff, branded paper bags. I have to fight the urge to rip the produce from their hands and pack the bags myself. God forbid, you forget your own bag in Blighty and have to pay 10p for the honour of actually being able to take your produce from said conveyer belt to car.  Here in the good old US of A, you get a free bag.  Yippee, and it comes in super handy for lining the cat’s pee tray.

 

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So, after fun in the hidden away supermarket John and I decided to have lunch together in a hidden away Mexican.

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Imagine my surprise when after the Celebrity Bacon I was presented with Chicken and Chocolate Sauce. Apparently it’s quite a usual Mexican recipe called Chicken Mole but it rather surprised me.  I love chicken. I love chocolate.  But the two together –  not so sure.  Sort of like Marmite ice cream or fried bread and custard.

It was … btw … delicious.

 

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Looking forward to many more epicurean adventures, because if there’s one thing LA does well – it’s food!

 

Not just any old bacon – It’s ‘Celebrity Bacon!’

… a cracking good time at the chiropractor

I cracked up big time at the chiropractor yesterday. I’ve been to one or two small practices  in the UK … they are usually situated in someone’s front room or in dainty lock up shops on the high street.  They are genteel affairs with the standard grubby, pink plaster cast of a spine with a broken tailbone gathering dust in a forgotten corner of the room. Here in LA, they are something else. Loud and proud, they stand like beacons of hope in gleaming skyscrapers  … their incumbent chiropractors ready and willing to ‘adjust’ your life considerably.

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After sitting for far too long on aeroplanes and office chairs, John and I desperately needed a visit to Dr Arash Noor, our chiropractor in Santa Monica.  After being deliciously pummelled in matching massage chairs to a ‘swedish’, ‘shiatsu’, ‘chiro’ combo, we were jointly ushered into Dr Noor’s treatment room.  There we were laid out ceremoniously together on adjoining beds.  It felt a bit like couple’s therapy.

‘Nice cruise, we’re on,’ said John as Dr Noor fixed electrodes to our respective shoulders.  Two minutes later, I felt the most intense, hot, prickly sensation as the electricity jumped across my shoulder muscles.  The consequent hot flush was almost too much to bear.  When Dr Noor drove home the road drill on my back, I nearly jumped off the bed.

Now John’s a long, thin man of 6′, 6″ – lying on the treatment bed with his feet dangling over the edge, he looked like the most splendid  graphite pencil.  When Dr Noor lay across John’s leaden spine with his full body weight, I heard an almighty crack swiftly followed by an embarrassingly loud groan of pleasure.

chiro-2It was my turn … naturally, I was anxious. It’s a vulnerable feeling when someone has your neck in their hands, even if it is the lovely Dr Noor.  And yes, I cracked up gloriously as the air popped free.  The relief was profound as I felt the pressure on my neck reduce. I walked out of that treatment room feeling a stone lighter.

 

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So … thank you Dr Noor for the crack. I’ll pop round again sometime.

 

 

 

 

… a cracking good time at the chiropractor

Giggle Knickers -the knickers that don’t leak even if you do!

I’m excited to see this kick starter venture by my friend Clare’s sister-in law, Anne Davidson so I’m ‘leaking’ the info …

Let’s face it, when us girls reach that ‘certain age’, some of us leak a little pee when we laugh, cough, dance, jump around or exert ourselves unexpectedly!  We don’t talk about it much, we’re pretty coy about it, some of us are ashamed about it. It’s often known by that pejorative term – the ‘oops moment’.  However and whatever we think about it, it’s important to keep it in perspective and remember that it’s a common part of ageing and of being a woman.  Just another pain in the backside to add to periods, hot flushes, hormonal weight gain and vaginal atrophy. Oh the glamour!

Giggle Knickers are high tech sustainable panties, double mercerised and dry and odour free.  They are washable and designed to prevent millions of disposable products going into landfill and polluting our oceans.

This venture reminds me of the time, my friend, Michelle and I owned a Public Relations company called Greenlight Relations.  One of our first clients was Milton Sterlizers.  They were marketing a new brand of incontinence pants called Milton Staydry and wanted us to help with the PR. Being diligent PR practitioners, Michelle and I decided that in order to get the most immersive experience from these incontinence pants, we would do a bit of ‘method PR’ and wear them for for 48 hours.  Needless to say, it was an uncomfortable experience.  Forty eight hours later the only marketing slogan we could come up with was ‘Don’t give a crap with Milton Staydry’!

Best of luck with this new venture Judith Balcazar and Anne Davidson … and thanks for taking the piss out of us!

Dry little joke there folks …

 

 

 

 

 

Giggle Knickers -the knickers that don’t leak even if you do!

A desert sanctuary in Los Angeles

Being a country girl I find the rivers of concrete otherwise known as freeways and the constant traffic in Los Angeles extremely unnerving.  It takes me quite a while to readjust from English country life to LA city Life. But today, I found a wonderful country adventure straight down Sunset Boulevard and a mere ten minutes from our house.

Will Rogers State Historic Park is the former estate of the American humorist, Will Rogers.  It lies in the Santa Monica Mountains in LA in the Pacific Palisades area and the views across the city and the ocean are to die for.  It’s a dream to be able to walk … or hike, as the Americans call it, through acres of high desert foliage with the intense blue sky overhead. To discover this paradisal gem of nature right on my doorstep was a delight. After the intense rain that LA has recently benefitted from, the vegetation shone green. Add in the silvered Californian light and the result is heavenly.

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Will Rogers was a humorist and the highest paid Hollywood movie star in the 1930s.  He was also a newspaper columnist, a social commentator and a great friend of my partner’s granny, the broadway star and comedienne, Fanny Brice. The American people adored Rogers but sadly, he was killed in 1935 in an airplane accident. After the death of his wife, Betty in 1944, their 31-room ranch house, with its 11 baths and 7 fireplaces became a state park.

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The ranch was Will Roger’s sanctuary – the place where he could relax with his family and his many Hollywood friends.  His favourite pastimes were roping and riding and the house, which is open to the public, is full of horse related memorabilia. If you are horsey-minded there are equestrian activities galore, including polo and riding trails to clip-clop along.

Me … I shall invest in a proper pair of hiking boots, a cowboy hat and a lasso. You never know what I might corral on my new American adventures!

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Will Rogers looking very dandy with his eponymous rope.

 

 

 

 

A desert sanctuary in Los Angeles

Virgin Airlines – stop pimping your cabin crew!

Why is the Virgin Atlantic cabin crew uniform so goddamn tight? As I made by regular trip on Virgin Atlantic airlines back to LA yesterday, I was chatting to a female cabin crew member but the poor girl could hardly breathe!  Her bright red uniform was straining cross her chest, the buttons about to projectile pop at any moment. Her skirt was tight as a drum across her backside and the toes on her feet were all bobbling through the leather on her high red heels. Now this girl was young, lovely and probably a size 8 to 10, but she looked trussed up and ready to be basted in the oven.

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The sleeves on her jacket were so tight she could hardly bend her arms to do her cross check. If I had to wear that uniform no way would it fit across my bum.  I’ve got a lot of junk in my trunk.  If passengers stick their feet out in the aisles I have to sashay sideways if I want to use the airplane loo.

So how, pray do the size 12/14 cabin crew cope with these ridiculous uniforms?  When my girl sat opposite me in the crew chair and strapped herself in, her skirt rode right up her thighs and I got an eyeful.

It irritates me tremendously that female cabin crew are made over to pander to the gaze of men.  Their skirts are so tight they even have to do the ‘bunny dip’ to pick things up off the floor of the aisle because it’s almost impossible to bend normally without ripping a bloody great rent in the back of their skirts.   Their uniforms are over-sexualised and just plain silly.

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Even the Virgin ads centre on the female rear.  The cabin crew aren’t there for guys to ogle even though Richard Branson thinks it’s a great way to sell his airline service.  Not sure I’d want to be thought of as just a piece of ass. If I were marketing my airline I’d rather market it as high service and quality orientated.  Not good Richard … stop pimping out your female cabin crew. Time for a new uniform. I’m sure your crew would thank you for it.

 

 

 

 

Virgin Airlines – stop pimping your cabin crew!

Viva La Vulva – Pussies against Trump

The world is outraged at ‘so-called’ President Trump’s executive order barring federal funds to organisations promoting planned parenthood around the world.  The International Planned Parenthood Federation says it will continue to promote abortion around the globe and forfeit the $100 million it receives annually from the US Government.

‘We cannot – and will not – deny life saving services to the world’s poorest women.  We will work with governments and donors to bridge the funding and services  the Global Gag Rule creates,’ said a spokeswoman in a statement. ‘We will ensure that women can exercise their rights and access safe abortion and family planning.’

Marjorie Newman-Williams, Vice-President and Director of Marie Stopes International, an abortion advocate that stands to lose over $30 million from the executive order said that abiding by the order would mean ‘turning our backs on the very women who need us most’

We’ve all seen the sea of pink knitted pussy hats at the Women’s March in Washington.  I have one myself made by my friend Marcella.

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But this lovely appendage, my friends, beats them all – the ‘Coochie Mama’, knitted  by my clever friend Devon. A thing of beauty to hang in the windshield of your car!

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Personally I shall use mine to adorn the top of my Christmas Tree his year. A shining beacon of pink fluffiness celebrating the feminine divine.

Viva La Vulva – and down with Trump!

 

 

Viva La Vulva – Pussies against Trump