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Reasons not to date a redhead #1

Reasons not to date a redhead #1

We interrupt our specialist programming to inform you that Sun editor and fiery redhead Rebekah Wade (not 36-24-36 presumably) was arrested (and later released without charge) for an alleged assault on her husband, former EastEnders actor Ross Kemp. Who had an onscreen image for being a bit of a hard man.

According to BBC News, “Scotland Yard said Mr Kemp, 41, sustained a “thick lip” but declined medical aid”

I cannot get out of my head the image of a shaven-head Ross Kemp quivering and cowering as he’s confronted with the rage and furious anger of a tabloid journalist editor *and* redhead. And then I ponder on the news headlines tomorrow and wonder if the headline of the day will be “Kemp is a *** scumbag” with full details about his lovemaking technique – or something like that. Hell hath no fury than a scorned tabloid editor of the UK’s most widely-read newspaper…

Never hold back on fancying someone…

Never hold back on fancying someone…

There was this gorgeous redhead at work I fancied/ had the hots for, for about a year. No idea what she was actually like as a person, although that was mostly because every time I was near her I’d do a perfect impression of a stumbling idiotic buffoon (as opposed to my usual imperfect one). Plus, whenever we did try to talk, it was a tad difficult to find a mutual topic of interest outside of work, not being able to think around her. She was way above my league – if it was between her and Nicole Kidman, it’d be Redhead Girl anytime.

Anyway, she’s apparently just moved to Leeds. Doh! Should have struck (or at least emailed her) while the iron was within striking distance!

And in a lesson on workplace gossip and subtlety, a couple of workplace friends have IM’ed me with this delightful piece of news. And telling me that I should essentially email her and say “Now you’re moving to Leeds, I can tell you that I really fancy you, and how about a drink sometime”? 😛 Hrm… What do you think?

My resolution to never drink again crumbles…

My resolution to never drink again crumbles…

The summer sun, a works outing, and free beer all conspire to defeat my half-assed resolution to not drink so much alcohol again. But then again, it all came after a gruelling day learning about Employment Law. Which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, to be fair.

So I eventually stumble back into work (after huge shenanigans trying to find someone who’d fix my computer!) and remember about this post-work drinks bash to “celebrate Creativity”. Which is a good thing.

And to be fair, it’s not bad. Free drink, some food, a quick speech and brief from someone senior and then there’s a mini-comp to race toy cars around a track. A comp. I lose very very quickly.

One particular woman there is someone I have admired from afar for a *long* time. Mainly based on physical looks alas – she makes Nicole Kidman look ugly. Hence, well out of my league.

Eventually, my resolve not to drink cracks – mainly when everyone asks why I’m not drinking. Plus it’s a sunny day, I need some relaxation, blah blah blah. So I have one beer. Then another.

Eventually, I somehow pluck up the courage to try and chat to Mystery Woman. Somehow manage to pick a relatively anodyne topic and might just be getting away with it, but then my brain decides to trip me up. I start bringing in the person on the next table, and comment that his hair’s changed so I didn’t recognise him – to whit Mystery Woman says “My hair’s changed, you knew who I was”… Grrr… At which point I run.

How on earth do people manage to pick up complete random strangers? How do they manage that?

The evening degenerates so that those who have homes to go to go home, and the rest of us bundle to a bar by the bay for more drinking. I plead health and go home at midnight but everyone else goes to the boat of someone they befriended at the bar. As yer do.

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