Social media and rolling news channels have a lot to answer for. For the most part I am a huge fan of both, loving the fact I can feel connected to people and events all over the world from the small phone in my hand. That I can Skype my parents to show
Did you know that either of those things existed? Well come on, keep up. They do indeed and the second one just happens to have just been awarded to a very good friend of mine, Nickie from I Am Typecast, so I grabbed the opportunity to have a chat with her about the title.
I bloody hate that expression. I think it’s awful but I can’t think of anything as succinct as that to make a decent title for this post. “If you aren’t married to the person we are inviting then you will not be invited to our wedding” doesn’t trip off the tongue as easily as the
It is rare that we go out for dinner. We have a kitchen full of gadgets to help with cooking and if we can’t be bothered to use them, then we generally have a takeaway. So when Giggling Squid asked if we would like to find out more about their restaurant we jumped at
I have had this idea for a while now about getting a car that is fun to drive. I have even talked about it on here. Driving, and having a fun car, is a bit of a thing in my family. My parents have a few and I am seriously considering ditching my
Driving is a big thing in our family. I mean a seriously big thing. Not in a “we need to get to from A to B” type of way but more of a “where can we make B this weekend?” As an example, twelve years ago my dad decided, with a group
Twice this week I have raged at headlines online. Headlines with information that just isn’t relevant quite frankly, and twice it has made actually shout out loud. Once instance made me swear on Twitter, and that rarely happens. The first was the recent story about Aaron Lennon, the footballer. A man who was in need
It was pretty much a case of sticking a pin in the map on Sunday morning when we woke up in London and decided to stop off for a walk before heading home. Though the map was actually a book called “Secret London” and the pin was Mr B’s thumb as he flicked