Monday, 9 November 2009

Dirty Weekend (mostly in pictures)

One disconnected fringe

One pair of best pants

One pair of Kurt Geiger's

One bottle of Cava chilling in the sink (cheap hotel, well actually not that cheap, but no fridge)

Just before my departure I stood in front of Bushman wearing a silk dress, my Russell & Bromley boots, my vintage Astrakhan, my new 'do' with a full face of make up and I was even wearing perfume. With utter delight I said to him, "Look at me! I'm a real person!"

He had absolutely no idea what I meant. (as usual)

Things didn't get off to a great start as Cupcake and I found an inconsiderate, twentysomething, in designer sunglasses with her huge suitcase sitting in our seats. Anyway, all's well that ends well and two (small) bottles of wine later we were in this kind of mood as the train reached Manchester, Picadilly.

It was lovely weather when we left London.

It was shit weather when we got to Manchester.

Undeterred, we sauntered throught the fine rain to our hotel: the luxurious Premier Inn (Cupcake is obsessed with Premier Inns and feels so at home in them that we had been in the room no less than thirty seconds when she was in her pyjama bottoms, toiletries unpacked and squishing pillows at me saying "Go on, feel that, go on.")

Anyhow, the Cava went in the chiller (see above), the facepacks came out and we set about reminding ourselves what it used to be like in the old days.....

Strangely enough this weekend seemed entirely dominated by sausage.

Chorizo to be precise.

As anybody who knows me can vouch, I am a fan of big, dirty sausages. So when we decided to dine on tapas we both knew that chorizo had to be on the menu. We gorged ourselves on it....and sadly spent the rest of the weekend digesting it.

We digested it in Canal Street where we were so bloated and uncomfortable that we missed two great photo opportunities - a cavegirl hen night and a drag queen who called me a 'bitch' because I wearing this fabulous vintage 80's number.....

Thank-god it was a baggy top....

Then after a conversation with some students who told us 'Your kind of people are in the Northern Quarter' (was that a compliment or not? I don't know....) and still digesting our chorizo, that's where we headed. It was at this point that we had this utterly appropriate photo opportunity.

We partied in the Northern Quarter until 2am, went back to our luxurious quarters, had a nightcap in the bar and went to bed. We were almost as excited about the unbroken night's sleep as we had been about the possibility of endless alcohol and frivolity.

Which is possibly why neither of us slept.......

The pressure was too great. All we managed was a coked-up limbo somewhere between sleep and wakefulness whilst Coca Cola coursed through our veins. (if there's one thing I hate it's the ratio of coke to rum in bars!!!!)

The following day we went window shopping. We were suprisingly perky and glowing.

In some ways Manchester really impressed us with their progressive and efficient ideas....

........ even London doesn't have these - not that I'm aware of anyway.

Walking around town on Sunday afternoon, an old man approached us and asked us...

"What do you give the man who has everything for Christmas?"

My instinct was to respond "A blow job?".

There was pause whilst I wondered if I could actually say what I was thinking, however; the gentleman filled the silence by thrusting a leaflet under my nose and saying:

"A leaflet about Jesus!"

I really think these people should wear badges, otherwise they risk people saying "Blow job" at them. Honestly, it's for their own protection.

As the day drew to a close we needed perking up .......

That's more like it, cocktails at Harvey Nicks....ah, the highs.......

...and then the lows...

White wine spritzers in plastic glasses at Manchester Picadilly shortly before departing, followed by dinner.....

Followed by the most expensive pick and mix in the universe...

£3.06 for this trifling amount of crap

You have to admit it, we are just pure fucking class.

Sadly, we were not sponsored by Premier Inn, Virgin Trains, Manchester Tourist Board, Harvey Nichols, West Country Pasty Shop or Captain Morgan. We were also not involved in any deal to promote 'National Sausage Week'. If any of these organisations would like to contact us about sponsorship we would happily do it all again. We would not however be prepared to sign up to any deal involving pick and mix as frankly all you get is a bag of shit.


  1. Awesome! I am ENTIRELY jealous! The flu hit my house this weekend, so my husband was out of commission (he started feeling better yesterday, but according to the doctor is not allowed to touch the baby for several more days) and the baby was cranky with the sniffles. And I was just cranky (well, technically I did have sniffles too).

    So I can only match you on the excitement of an uniterrupted night's sleep! I went to bed just after the baby most of the weekend to achieve longer stretches than I have in what feels like years - yes, by going to be at 8:45 on a Saturday night. I'm so cool...

  2. Next trip I'm coming too!
    Will bring my own pick'n'mix, promise.

    LCM x

  3. It sounds like you had a really cool weekend. I can't tell you when I last had one like it. It was in the Dark Ages, I think. I think it's time for me to go out and buy some sexy underwear like that. It would make me feel good to wear it, if nothing else.

  4. The face packs! The pink cocktails! The side by side loos! There is so much I miss out on not being in the UK.

    Sounds like you had a fantastic time, shame you didn't manage that full night of uninterrupted sleep but hope you didn't feel the need to get up at 6.30am like usual.

  5. Love it - I need a weekend like that.

    Every time I've stayed away from my kids I've woken automatically at 6am.

    ... and I can't wait to hear that you've been sponsored by National Sausage Week.

  6. Those toilets are the THE SHIT! (pun fully intended). I'm going to have to tweet this post just for that.
    I am escaping my family for ten whole days and coming to London in a couple of weeks. By the time I get home I will have aged a decade or two and won't own any knickers anymore, but it will all be worth it.
    Might have to take a side trip to Manchester to see those toilets. Seriously

  7. In fairness to the Mancunian toilets I should add that there was a slight difference in size leading me to think that perhaps it was a mother and child toilet?

    Still slightly perplexed as to why this is necessary....although an utterly intriguing concept!

    and Laura - do you think I could go one better and be the face of National Sausage Week? Now that really would be something. I do absolutely love sausages, even if they didn't get great press in this post.

    Thanks as always for your comments people. xxxx

  8. Being branded 'a bitch' by a drag queen is the ultimate style honour, I guess. Hear you on being a real person, had a real moment myself last Saturday. It went too quickly.

  9. looks like you had a fantastic time.. i'm there next time!

  10. I would have said blow job too. Only I probably would have said it before he handed me the leaflet, leaving us both uncomfortable. At least it would have been amusing though.

  11. Bwahaha. It would have been hilarious it you;d shouted out "BJ".

  12. So tell me why you had to go all the way to Manchester to have this fun? Are the sausages better up north? Are they? ARE THEY? (Oh god, now I'm suffering from sausage envy. Shoot me now).