So I failed to mention my actual wedding. So much build up and then silence. It was a great party. We got back to the hotel at 7am and had a blast. Thank you to all my friends and family – those who came and those who stayed away.
Here is a picture of the incredible pavlova that our friend Lillie made us. This pretty much sums up how great the day was.
I have been a lazy arse since returning to Dubai. The occassional swim but I have avoided the gym, I even avert my eye when I am forced to venture near it.
I never introduced you to ‘Vagina’ but she is the Russian lady who lives in the gym and who always seemed to work out at the same time as me. She doesn’t wear pants so every time she stretches you get an awkward view. Ulysses loves it. Anyhow apparently she is working out so much because she is desperate to put some muscle on her non-existent arse. How much would you pay for some of mine?
We did go to the water slide park, Wild Wadi. It is pretty cool. Although I hear the one an hour away serves booze, but then who would drive home? A day at a water slide park sadly doesn’t count as exercise. I gave it my all and even grazed my arm going 80 km p/hr on their near vertical slide, I was trying to save what dignity I have left – a worthy pursuit especially considering the ogling one gets dressed in an entire swimming costume. Wild Wadi is always packed with teenage boys so it’s not really a surprise but a lot of them have much bigger tits than me.
Dubai is a magnet for morons. The likes of Jim Davidson live here and we get enough Premier footballers coming here for public make up sessions with their wives. But, it also attracts really odious posh twats. I guess they are everywhere but I have run into a few recently who have really creeped me out.
We have new tenants moving into our London flat. I am now a property owner. Go marriage! Anyhow we get sent their background information and financial profile to approve them. Why would a music producer and his model girlfriend bringing in over £3K a week want our flat? I suspect they have a habit and need to be local to Hackney’s finest.
I am having corporate glamour shots done tomorrow for a presentation I am giving for another company. Trying to work out what to wear. It’s so bloody hot, all I want to wear is my pants.
On the subject of dress code. I have been invited to a school reunion in London. I went to high school in Sydney but it has got in the habit of having annual old girl gatherings in London, New York and Geneva – sums the place up really. Anyhow the dress code on the invite is tailored business attire – WTF? I suggested to one of the two friends I have left from school that we dress in matching mens suits and wear moustaches. She has suggested we boycott it and drink cocktails with people we actually like. I’m with her.
I found out recently that nonce means paedophile – I had no idea. Sorry to all the people I have called nonce in the past. I love the sound of it and thought it meant dick. Woops.
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