Tuesday, December 30, 2008

2008: What a Tripp it was ...

All right lads and lasses, I know you're gagging for my round up of the Worst of 2008. So here you go:

Worst Name of 2008: Tripp (born to Bristol Palin):



Funniest Ad of 2008:


LeatherCreations, a Chicago-area furniture store, took out a quarter-page ad in Thursday's Chicago Tribune: "We sell more seats than the Governor!" Hopefully after he gets out of prison, Blagojevich will have a lucrative career in endorsements.

Worst Outfits of 2008:


Paula Adbul finally breaks down and admits: "I am the bastard child of Adam Ant and Captain Pugwash."





Katie Holmes hangs her head in shame after being released from the police station after being charged for a fashion violation that involved wearing footless leggings, stilletos and cut offs:



Madonna finally goes mad: "Okay so I forgot to trim my pubes, maybe if I strap on this piece of astroturf I'll cover the worst of my bush?"



Funniest Old Man Making a ratarsed tit of himself with 23 year old girl (Paul Weller 'sings'):here.

Worst/most painful sex toy used on a Russian Billionaire 2008: Naomi Campbell



So that's it folks. Have a disease free New Years Eve and do yourself a favor and lay off the tequila.

Love and hugs
Emma
xx

Monday, December 22, 2008

Hello! visits Emma K

Today Hello! magazine is delighted to be granted an exclusive interview with the legendary blogger Emma K.

Interviewer: You are known around the blogosphere as having a very unique sense of style. How do you feel about that other stylista, fellow Brit Victoria Beckham?

Emma K: Well, what a lot of people don't know is that I went to school with Posh. When she first moved to the States she was all over me like a rash, but soon she became friends with Katie Holmes and Will Smith and now she won't even return my calls. Back when we were mates the cow even wrote a post on this blog. And although I think of her as basically a two faced cow I will say that she has always been a fashion inspiration to me. That said, some of the stuff she wears is impossible to walk in. I think it's only a matter of time before she breaks an ankle. I would tell her but she seems to have blocked my number from her cell for some reason.


Interviewer: Wow! What great new shoes. Do tell us a bit about them.


Emma K: Well, I feel like I was channelling Posh a bit here, except mine don't have that big wedgy bit on the bottom. Do you like them?

Interviewer: I absolutely love them!

You are well known as a canny financial operator who has invested the millions you have made from blogging very astutely. Any tips for our readers?


Emma K: Oh yes, I have been investing in stockings for as long as I can remember! I tend to start the day having a meeting with my stockings broker. I have a very tight grasp of the stockings market, but what some people don't realize is that stockings can go down as well as up - which is why I tend to buy the stay up kind so they won't ride down my legs at inopportune moments.

Interviewer: That's a great tip. How do you spend a typical day?

Emma K: Well, after I have channelled my chakra and chosen my wardrobe I am ready to find inspiration for my blog post of the day. My office has been specially designed by a Feng Shui expert and I listen to some tapes of dolphins giving birth before the first flickers of inspiration start to flow. After I have written my blog post I tend to lie down for the next few hours because this is highly intellectual and rigorous work. Obviously I would not be able to be such a successful blogger without the hard work of my team of humble servants. Thanks lads, your efforts will be well rewarded with a big Christmas bonus.


Interviewer: What exciting plans do you have for 2009?

Emma K: I am very excited to be launching my unique brand of meals for the busy blogger on the go, Meals in a Muffin:


Interviewer: Wow! That does look tasty.

Thanks so much for talking to us today.

Emma K: My pleasure.

I would just like to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and also to ask them, do you like my shoes?

Emma K
xx

Monday, December 15, 2008

Ooh, he gives good Mass



Now I know some of you will probably faint dead away when I tell you this and have to be revived with smelling salts, but I go to church. It's one of those happy clappy guitars and pan pipes type scenes. Now, I don't believe in God and I don't believe in Jesus, or 'Jebus' as Sausage calls him, but it's somewhere free to take the kids on a Sunday and even though the kids refuse to go to Sunday School because Scarlett says, "Don't be funny mum, who's going to believe that Jesus walked on water?" and Sausage won't go to Sunday School because she "Doesn't like Jebus." And I totally see their point - there is no way you can make kids believe something you don't believe in yourself in the first place. I suppose I go to church because some of my friends go, but I'm not that keen on the pastor and things rather came to a head yesterday.

I was sitting in the church bitching and moaning to Scarlett about all the things I didn't like about the pastor. Well, I thought I was whispering, but people have told me that I have a voice that rather resembles a foghorn, so I don't think I was that quiet. Of course, at the end of the service I realize that two pews back there is a camera and a huge fuck off microphone recording the service. Okay. So, I guess you could say, who the hell is going to watch himself on the video after each service? Is the pastor really going to watch it to check if his hair is properly styled or whether he has given 'good mass?' I fear this man may be such a type. Luckily even if he does hear me I can't imagine he'd say anything to me. What I said wasn't that bad. I think. I'd like to say he won't be able to identify me but I am the only person there with an English accent.

Ho hum. I am thinking my best bet is to next week sit under the microphone and say, "Ooh, that Father John gives the best mass. I think about his sermons all week. He's so spiritual and enlightened and I really think he has lifted me up to a higher place."

Have you ever found yourself in the midst of a recording blunder like this and what did you do? Or what should I do? He now knows I am nothing but a two faced God-botherer.

Also, do check out my piece Revenge of the Killer Schnitzels here.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Accounting for Dummies


Mini Dog - a fast food restaurant in the far east that has stolen McDonalds branding in order to sell dog based junk food

So I speed read a book in a bookshop the other day about how feeling babies formula meant that their brains didn't develop properly (no worries there I breastfed) and also how feeding kids processed food meant they lost IQ points daily (shit shit shit), IQ points that seeped out of them like so much macaroni cheese coming out of their ears. Usually, like most laid back mothers I do a daily equation: if they eat a certain amount of processed food (ie chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, frozen pizza, that gets cancelled out by two pieces of fruit. If they eat more than a fun bag of M&Ms per day then that day is sanctioned as nutritionally null and void). Whether the book I read is a crock or not I don't know, but it had me hurriedly preparing a home made meal of braised pork in the crock pot: cabbage, pork chops, celery, cider, chicken stock etc. Might sound a bit weird but trust me its great. One problem is that even though I will have cooked a nutritionally sound meal the kids won't eat it or if they do they will pick out most of the veg and nibble on a bone. Still, I will have put my mind at ease that I have stopped them going daft.



Do you do these sorts of calculations? Like, for myself, if I eat one really bad meal for lunch like a hamburger and fries, that is totally cancelled out if I eat two apples for dinner. Its absolute bollocks of course, but don't you do it? The same goes for any debauchery I did before I was thirty: smoking, illegal substances, drinking and tanning myself dark brown...anything before thirty doesn't count and I get a free pass. The 'logic' goes that it was all too long ago and now my lungs have healed themselves etc. Its probably bollocks since drugs and Coppertone suntan lotion play havoc with your brain, but that's how I justify having had my munchies and eaten them.



Another calculation I do is say if I go and buy a pair of shoes on sale. They were $90 and now they are $30 so I get all excited because I figure I have saved $60. Apart from the fact they are too tight and I don't need them. And then I go and spend the money I have 'saved' on a manicure, pedicure and a lipstick and still somehow feel virtuous.

What kind of schizo calculations do you work out in your mind to wipe out your sins when you've been a bad bad boy (or girl)?

Saturday, December 06, 2008

Pubic Hair Manalogues


Now, when it comes to er, hedge trimming, do men really need special equipment? Do men really need a special site called Manalogues run by Philips where they role play calling their dad and shouting down the phone at him that its great to trim your pubic hair with a special Pubic Hair Weed Whacker and telling him "The smaller the nest the bigger the bird."



I can't imagine having a similar conversation with my mother. "My nest is all tidy mum, you should see how good my bird looks. It's really flying." But maybe I'm hopelessly out of touch with today's 'kids.'

Do you think that pubic hair trimmers for men are the ultimate gift for the man who has everything? Do you have one? And what's wrong with nail scissors?

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

I swear allegiance to this burrito

I am currently taking Spanish lessons and am really brilliant at it. Maybe brilliant isn't quite the right word but I can ask for steak and chips in a restaurant and a room with hot and cold running water. And since the Argentinian teacher told me that the latin people spend most of their time drinking, eating and dancing I have decided to officially become a South American.

I am sick to death of this archaic idea that where you are born should define your nationality. I wanna be a South American so bad:


Let's face it, being British has had its chips. Yes, I enjoy taking the piss out of foreigners, eating fish and chips and drinking warm lager with the rest of my country folk, but I believe British culture peaked about a hundred years ago and has now troughed.


I wanna be South American. They have all the cool shit. Those ace dictator uniforms. They invented 'the Brazilian'. They have butt implants. The men have the most ridiculous moustaches and laughably hairy chests.


And last but not least, they have the thickest, creamiest hot chocolate in the world, which you eat with greasy donut sticks (churros). I had them in Madrid once (yeah I know Spain isn't in S America, I'm not John McCain!)


Although it is something of a mystery why South American girls are such babes when young, then suddenly when they hit fifty they get round and wrinkly (I did do a search for 'latina grandma' to demonstrate this point but I ended up with a whole heap of granny porn and views of latin portals that I would rather forget).

So, I will go back to my Spanish tapes and become fluent in espanol. I will one day live the dream. I will one day live in South America and be as happy as a churros in chocolate.

What nationality do you wish you were and why do you think your own nationality sucks?