Bristol's Gloucester Road has recently been named one of the last remaining high streets in Britain that hasn't been devoured by evil chain stores.
What it does have are cool charity shops where my brain almost liquified from the sample Banana Republic stock.
American Crew leave-in conditioner makes your hair look as though you haven't washed it for a week.
Watery eggs and chewy white toast with the nutritional value of toilet paper does not a good breakfast make. Blue Lagoon Cafe, I want my money back.
Inadvertently smiling at someone must, in some circles, constitute an invitation to join them. Especially if you're a lunatic, middle-aged alcoholic woman who appears to be on day release from a cult.
Saturday afternoon's interview with a local chef/deli owner may well be the least exciting interview of my career.
Quorn sweet and sour ready meals are shit!!! So horrendous, in fact, that I am perfectly justified in my use of three exclamation marks.
My colleague Ben has probably THE most angelic children on the planet.
Sainsbury's needs to stop playing hide and seek with the unsalted nuts.
Staying in on a Saturday night to catch up on freelance work instead of going to the pub for a birthday celebration makes me feel old and responsible. And, just quietly, quite smug about how much of a dent I made in the mountain of work.
Malvern Antiques Fair is filled with things I really, really want. And would buy if I had a wallet the size of Bill Gates'.
My former colleague Anita, who has a stall at said fair, is an absolute doll. That's her, and her fiance Gary, pictured below. Props for her superb bartering skills which scored me a kick-ass pair of Bvlgari earrings.
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