Excerpts from a modern love story…

‘…and there he was before me. All seven very well filtered photos of him…’

‘…our first date was like no other. We got shitfaced, moaned about our jobs and had a snog outside the train station….’

‘…our eyes locked in a coffee shop queue.  And I shat myself . We’d been speaking on Happn and I’d got drunk last week and sent him a picture of my tits…’

‘…my heart skipped a bit when I realised she actually looked like her Tinder pictures…’

‘…I knew we would go the distance, the first time he ended a text with a double xx…’

‘…the night we first made love something changed within me. I knew she was better than the rest of the girls I’d slept with. 
That week…’

‘…we kissed goodbye at the train station after spending a night of unbridled passion, tangled in each other. He said he would call me later and off I skipped filled with anticiaption. I waited and I waited.

He came online, he went offline, and then I never heard from him again…’

‘…we just clicked, you know. I mean I knew we would. Because the internet told us we had so much in common…’

‘…then there was that time he came round to Netflix & Chill. And he stayed for breakfast. And I knew then it was getting serious…’ 

‘..the day came that I realised that I preferred sitting on my sofa looking at my phone next to her then I did anyone else…’

‘She put us in a relationship on Facebook.
When we hadn’t had ‘the chat’.
I locked it off there & then’.




Turtle Bay comes to The Cronx

Caribbean food & rum lovers rejoice.

Turtle Bay has moved into Croydon.

I was invited along to the press launch earlier this week, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s good.

I ate so much food I needed to pretty much be wheeled out of there in a barrow and the cocktails were lip smackers.

But mainly.

It felt clean.

Not just the environment (obvs) but the grub.

Clean and bloody well cooked jerk, tender curry goat and dumplings that weren’t greasy. It didn’t feel naughty.

Just nice.

& to top it all off, Laura even said the jerk was up there with her Mum’s. Which is saying something as nothing in the world is ever as good as Mummy Laura’s jerk.

The staff are wicked and know they bloody know their stuff about rum.

And a little insider for you… just for Turtle Bay, Croydon they’ve devised a new off menu cocktail.

The Kate Moss.

If you’re in the know, ask for one at the bar.

Honestly, it was to DIE FOR.




Turtle Bay opens this Sunday. Go & feast



Image: Croydon Advertiser

An open letter to rail commuters

Dear fellow rail commuter,

I wanted to write you this note so you have something to read on your journey home. I want to keep you company as you sit outside another suburban station miles from your house, as you sit on another ice cold platform, as you wait for your replacement bus service in a town you’ve never heard of.

I wanted to write you this note to divert your attention from what’s going on around you.

To stop you from unleashing fresh hell on the man who’s listening to Meat Loaf on full volume in the seat opposite. To stop you from hurling profanities at the lady eating a katsu curry out of a bag in the seat beside you. To stop you from launching your newspaper at the girl across the aisle who’s having an argument on the phone with her boyfriend about who left the cooker on.

I’m sorry, I’ve messed up. You’re not sitting down are you?

I hope you can read this from the depths of that man’s armpit in which you have been burrowed since Burgess Hill. I hope that you can read this through the scarf you have over your face to block the smell of the toilet you are leaning against. I hope that you can read this in amongst the suitcase friends you have made in the luggage rack.

I wanted to keep you company, because I know you left work two hours ago. I know you only live an hour away from the office. And I know you’re still three hours from your front door. 

I wanted to keep you busy as I know you’ve completed every puzzle in the paper, and I know you’ve used up all your data trying to find out where you are and when you’ll be home, and I know that you don’t bother bringing a book for the journey anymore because you no longer have the space to open your arms wide enough to turn the pages.

I wanted to write you this note so you had something to do other than check your bank balance and see how much money you’ve lost to your rail provider. I wanted to write you this note so that you have something else to occupy your mind then the complete injustice of spending thousands of pounds a year just to apologise for your constant tardiness.

I wanted to distract you from the fact that you are late to yet another dinner with your wife. That you’ve missed yet another bath time with the kids. That you have once again found yourself eating toast for dinner because you got home an hour after you normally go to bed.

I wanted to take your mind off of the foot you nearly broke in the scrum getting on the carriage you’re now on, take it away from socking the bloke one who keeps asking you ‘to move down’. Move down to where?! To stand on top of that pensioner? I wanted to take your mind away from weighing up how much your London life is worth this drama. How much happier you could be working the deli counter in your local Sainsbury’s. Take your mind off of thinking how much money is really worth this shit.

I wanted to write you this note to let you know that you are not alone.

Stay strong, you’re nearly home*

With fondest regards,

The woman crying, doing her make up and Googling ‘how much could I actually earn working in Croydon’.


*you’re not.


My 2017 message

I know, right. It’s like Queenie on Christmas Day.

But here’s just a little note from me, to wish you a happy new year. To say thanks for the love for the rambles over the last twelve months, and to say I hope it’s a good’un.

I know that technically today is just another day, it’s ‘just like any other Sunday’, but if you need an excuse to shake things up a bit, start afresh, or do something new than what better day to give it a go.

If I learnt one thing in 2016, it was how shitty it feels to wait around. Waiting on others to make up their mind. Waiting on results. Waiting on news. Waiting for something magical to plop in your lap.

So in 2017, please don’t wait.

If you’re unsure how he feels about you, just ask. If you’re not sure where something’s going, find out. If you want to change your job, then do. Because trust me, the last thing you’ll want to do on New Year’s Eve next year is sit there and feel like you’ve wasted your time.

Wasted your time on a job, on a plan that never came off, on a bloke that couldn’t make up his mind.

Just grab whatever it is, whoever it is, shake it and don’t hang about.

Go into the new year with your head held high, go into the new year liking all of your good bits, and accepting all the wobbly little bits.

Don’t walk into it thinking you need to change a lot about yourself. Enhancements are fine. Additions are great. But full blown change aint the answer.

Be sure of yourself.

Expect good things to happen, not bad.

Laugh hard, eat well and say ‘yes’ some more.

Get away, get some sea air into your lungs. Spend a day every now again with nothing more than your favourite person in the world. No phones, no TV. Just you.

I hope that your 2017 is calm. I hope that it’s happy. I hope that at some point, no matter how small, something really magic happens for you.

There wasn’t enough magic last year.

So here’s to a good one.