The weather is playing havoc with my sinuses. I’m driving myself mad with it, so I thought it only fair to share it here, with you. A misery shared is a misery halved or something. Imagine how many of you are out there. I could be cured by lunch time.
As it is, I’ve been soldiering on bravely. It’s what we do donchaknow? Only I’ve been doing plangent moaning whilst going about my business. It’s another one of my failsafe home remedies for what ails you. It works with Brexit too, if you’re still distressed about it (I am).
Moan till your voice gives out. Do a bit of low level groaning, make ‘ooof’ sounds, add some whale type noises. If someone asks if you are feeling better, do not be tempted to say yes if you aren’t. Say ‘NO.’ Be firm. Then say: ‘I don’t want to talk about it any more. I just want to get on with being allowed to do persistent moaning.’
You WILL feel better. Not massively better, but better enough to put down the claw hammer you were either going to smash into your own or someone else’s face, just so that it can all be over.
This is today’s lifestyle advice from the House of Boo.
You are welcome.
I feel that there is definitely a niche for this kind of advice in the market now that Gwyneth Paltrow is stepping back from her online newsletter/high class tat emporium, the eponymously named GOOP (apparently it is one of her nicknames).
I am, as long term readers know, a fascinated stalker of the GOOP lifestyle, in much the same way I would be if a water buffalo escaped down my road and ended up crashing into the neighbour’s conservatory and rampaged around covered in spider plants and bibelots. I know nothing about such heady matters, but I just can’t help myself from lurking in the bushes, staring.
Gwyneth is stepping back from GOOP and water buffalo analogies because she doesn’t think the brand can grow if her name is coupled with it. This may be down to the fact that she believes hi-fi systems dipped in gold and retailing at thousands of dollars are a reasonable stocking stuffer. It may be that she is fed up of receiving angry e-mails from people who steamed their vaginas with sage leaves and instead of reaching nirvana, ended up with galloping thrush and a nasty case of cystitis. It may be that not enough people need advice on how to decorate music rooms the size of Swindon. I don’t know. I am not, sadly, privy to the inner workings of Gwyneth’s mind.
A lot of the time I’m not sure Gwyneth is either, to be honest.
In the article I read about it, Gwyneth said that she felt that GOOP had scalability if she wasn’t attached to it, and she hoped that eventually people would forget she had ever been a part of it.
I don’t really know what she means by scalability. It is a business, not the Matterhorn. I wonder if it’s just that having cornered the market in millionaires eager for tight vaginas, pots of over priced, organic fairy dust that will spiff up any eldritch sex you want to get on with and multi purpose kale recipes (healthy snacks OR hamster bedding. You choose), the only way from here is down to the masses?
Maybe she doesn’t fancy seeing reproductions of her face on the shelves at Poundland, emblazoned on pots of vaseline mixed with glitter and smelling of Febreze (get your fairy based, sexed up pots of grease here, luv), next to Kirsty Alsop’s rip off Cath Kidston notebooks and George Foreman grills (what, no ukulele?). Maybe she doesn’t want to see bunches of Gwyneth themed sage vagina steamers on the market, being hawked by faux cockney geezers who had ’em off dodgy Barry down the pub.
‘Gercha Gwyneth Paltrow laydeee garden steamers for a pahnd. A pahnd each. You’ll be tighter than a gnat’s chuff by tea time. Thassright. Roll, up. Get Gwynnie’s minge for a pahnd. Luvverly. You want two my darlin’? Brilliant. One to wash, one to wear, thass what I say. What? Oh yeah. My wife’s got one. She swears by it luv. Says you can do blackeads wiv it an all. Corse, if you use it too much your lady parts go right up inside ya and come out through the top of your ‘ead…Only joking. And it’s bloody marvellous for getting wood chip off the walls an all. It’s wossername. Multipurpose innit? Like a Swiss army knife but for your fanny. ‘Oo wouldn’t want that eh? For a pahnd.’