The hearing dog bit is - surprise ! - a lie. The only previous such mention was when she tried to get said mutt into Stonehenge and on being told "no dogs", claimed it was a "hearing dog"... which, btw, are only provided to people who are totally, stone deaf.
Anyone else notice how she seems to have got the chronology of the RS story all mixed up, taking things that she wrote about years ago and slotting them into the recent RS romance? She's been going on about him saying "Thank you for your support" for donkeys' years, always referring to it as something the RS said to her when she interviewed him many years ago and he was just an unrequited passion. (Bellagio, I'm hoping you'll have a more accurate recollection of this.....) Now, magically, this phrase seems to have been turned into something he said to her during their recent "relationship". After sex, my stadia-filling boyfriend said: ‘Thank you for your support.’ Leaving on yet another tour, his parting shot was: 'You take care.
I remember that phrase "You take care", too (she's told us about it often enough), ....but wasn't it her ex-husband who said it, not the RS?*
As for her shameful disregard for the privacy and feelings of DS's ex....quoting her private emails in print? Surely that contravenes some sort of press regulation?
Oh and Liz, please don't tar all husbands with the same brush. Grabbing hold of one's partner's spare tyre and calling her "Chubby" is certainly not the behaviour of any man I've ever known!
ETA: I just Googled "Liz Jones "Thank you for your support", and found this, written in the Diary in 2012:
The interview had gone so badly, him saying at the end, ‘Thank you for your support’, I had sworn I would never interview someone I fancied again. It’s too humiliating. I realised then, and I know now, that he and I come from completely different universes. He didn’t even notice me then, and, as it was 1983, I was in my prime.
...Not quite the same as saying it after sex during a relationship, as she now claims!
ETA*: From the Diary last May: I knew my husband was having an affair in India by his silence on the phone, his tone, his, ‘You take care.’
I posted a reply ages ago - it never showed. And I am convinced a lot of what was originally published on the last dreary was removed.
Bets on what the next one will be? "In which we make up"? "In which David crawls for forgiveness"? "In which I realise I am alone"? "In which I count my nonexistent blessings"? "In which the RS returns"?
You can’t bring a dog in here,’ a young lady told me. ‘But guide dogs are allowed,’ I said.
‘Are you blind?’ ‘No, but I’m deaf, and he is a hearing dog.’
‘Where’s his livery?’
‘It’s hot,’ I countered, to no avail.
Note, she initially infers it's a guide dog, rather than stating it's a hearing dog, which would have been the obvious thing to say... if she wasn't lying, of course. ;-)
Why didn't she have her 'hearing dog' on CBB? I remember quite a few times other people were saying 'she can't hear' (probably only because she'd told them that), so why didn't she have the dog there.
Because... she doesn't have a hearing dog, just a regular issue border collie ? Because... her alleged deafness seems to (conveniently) come and go as required, i.e she can hear someone sigh down the phone but not Pip Schofield in a TV interview when he picks her up on a lie ?
Because... she doesn't have a hearing dog, just a regular issue border collie ? Because... her alleged deafness seems to (conveniently) come and go as required, i.e she can hear someone sigh down the phone but not Pip Schofield in a TV interview when he picks her up on a lie ?
That's just my guess, but I feel it has merit.
See, I remember the "hearing dog" thing and interpreted it as Liz demonstrating a flagrantly silly attempt to blag her dog into the event. But the trouble is, she writes these very exaggerated things that come off as humorous, then comes back to whinge and mope and treat the same things as deadly serious depending on her whim.
For some reason I've struggled to find Liz's 'dreary' on my iPad this week, until today. I actually thought for a moment that the Daily Mail had finally chosen to 'pull-the-plug' and put us all out of our misery... but no, mysteriously the dreary appeared this morning.
I sense that most of us around here see things in roughly similar ways, and can flavour our critiques as required; but I don't think I can be ar*ed any more to spend time, picking out discrepancies between this month's 'dreary', 'right minds' column , or any other paid garbage that this woman writes.
As a 50-something male, after having earned a degree from the 'University of Life', and being joint-stakeholder in two divorces; I can't begin to comprehend how this... this... acerbic, vitriolic hack can have spent a similar time-span on this planet and yet seemingly learned nothing from the experience that life has given her.
I'm not going to attack Mr Scrace, because all I have to base my opinions on are what Liz Jones has written, but suffice it to say that I'd have exited stage-left from their relationship even if I'd been in my twenties.
I can't imagine what 'head-space' he's living in at this stage... but I can imagine the 'head-space' currently being inhabited by his business's shareholders... and it won't be good.
At the very best Liz's 'dreary' over the past few years could be classified as 'polemic', but more often 'eccentric' or 'batty'. Over the past couple of years she seems to have lost touch with all semblance of reality, and her writings have been eclipsed by the comments of her readers. Over recent months, even the comments of her readers have been edited out... and so, all connection with Planet-Earth has seemingly been lost.
I hope that the Daily Mail will either drop Liz's diary, or re-label it more appropriately... perhaps something along the lines of 'Ramblings of a woman in need of therapy".:(
Mr Curmudgeon
I couldn't agree more. And I can't get my head around what the DM are doing by not allowing comments; this surely must indicate the demise of the column since most people, myself included, only read it for the comments - most being far more entertaining than the column.
I just can't understand what their rationale is.
Agree, the Diary struck gold only about two years ago when it finally started to allow readers comments and it was the comments that became the 'must-read' factor not the increasingly bizzare ramblings of LJ (who at the time was reduced to making up a ficticious Rock Star that who was never seen or named). Most of the comments were good natured and just poked fun at this invisible rock god who despite all social media resources was never ever seen or identified or photographed with Liz. She finally gets a real life bloke who admitted he only contacted her for the publicity and she systematically has tried to destroy his life (though we can have little sympathy). Probably his senior partners have complained about the negative publicity and Liz thinks that by banning comments but continuing to ridicule him, his family and exes that is ok. As I've said before, just because readers cannot comment, we still know the embarrassing facts and the Diary will be accessible for eternity. It is Liz alone that's causing him humiliation, not the readers.
Morning all! Haven't been on for a bit because, frankly, there's been nothing to say. Jonesey seems to be increasingly losing the plot, forgetting her previous lies, repeating herself ad nauseam and churning out week after week of dross. She appears petrified that the Herne Hill Cocainegate story will come back and bite her arse... her guilt seems to be confirmed by her total failure to issue any sort of legal proceedings despite the OP on Mumsnet being known to her priapic pensioner.
She seems to have been given the bullet by the DM and, surely, the MoS cannot be far behind. She bombed at the Press Awards last night (huzzah!) and her card must be marked. I suspect she thought there would be a TV job with Dirty Des after CBB but even he must have seen how unspeakably drab she is. Enquiries to the Wagfree bakery regarding her pensioner's overall cleanliness are being forwarded to Dscrace himself to deal with.
Oh, and while we're on the subject of Herne Hill and snow on the higher slopes. Imagine, if you will, that the Priapic Pensioner has some form in this department (though I ma not suggesting this at all, obviously) and re-read last week's Dreary...
Mr Curmudgeon
I couldn't agree more. And I can't get my head around what the DM are doing by not allowing comments; this surely must indicate the demise of the column since most people, myself included, only read it for the comments - most being far more entertaining than the column.
I just can't understand what their rationale is.
I totally agree with this, I have been reading the column on and off (more off recently) and last weeks was just extremely poor not written in a very readable form and boring as well. The only thing to do in the past was to combine it with the comments to make a entertaining read. With the comments now being seriously 'restricted' the whole point of the story is now lost. Liz now just seems hopeless.
Hi all. Like Collie, I've not been on for ages either for the same reasons; i.e. the complete and utter pap spewed out by Lizard that is seriously hard to comment on, and, to echo other FMs, the DM not allowing comments on her 'work' to get through has also ruined a once amusing passtime. I wonder if she really does get paid that amount of coin for basically churning out the same old rot every single week? In Which David this, In Which David that, In Which We did this, that and the other, on and on and on ad nauseum. It'd be far more interesting if, say, during one of their now frequent squabbles, she'd announce, 'Oh, my dear Lord. Your long, nicotine stained nails are filthy! Please go and do something about it immediately!' With a sheepish look, he informs her that he'll go and knead some bread for the next batch. Job done.
Welcome back Cold Comfort, in light of the recent pathetic outpourings from Liz it would be good to hear from her 'alter ego' that you brilliantly channeled for us last year! Or perhaps we could hear the fragrant David's point of view? ;-)
No comments allowed after almost a week... I wonder if Liz is planning to write an article about how the DM couldn't bring itself to print the cruel slurs about her and Saint Dave that had been written by us vile trolls in the wake of their tiny tiff.
I imagine it won't have been Liz's idea not to publish. She doesn't care what people think of her. It's just that the DM was genuinely concerned for her. And for Daaaavid. Awful things will have been said. Things so awful, it'll be hinted, that she doesn't even want to know the details.
"What details?" she will bellow down the phone, for she is profoundly deaf and can't tell how loud her voice is. "I am allowed to know what is being said about me." She does not want a repeat performance of the awful experience in which one of David's friends' friends wrote about her taking cocaine at a party in Herne Hill on Mumsnet - several months ago now, and long since deleted from the internet, but, you know, just in case we forgot - and David misguidedly kept it secret in order to protect her.
"Well they have said you should grow up," some random at the DM will have said. "They have said it is your fault that David's business is failing because you said he was filthy and didn't cut his nails. Also they said you had no business reading his emails to and from his ex."
She is appalled. She only said David left laundry on the floor and once smoked inside. Besides she has a right to read what his ex is saying about her, since his ex claims to be driven to nervous breakdowns every time Liz writes about her, forcing Liz not to write about her any more, even though she was so cruel to David and did not, unlike Liz, buy him grownup presents like iPads and a gold Dunhill lighter which he cannot work.
It is all too much. Perhaps she shall quit her job and spend time only with her animals. For they do not judge her and are grateful for her money showers. If only it were possible to do so, but sadly due to spending all of her money on the rest of the planet, she must work to pay off her mortgage.
Just imagine you had a fairly long relationship which sadly broke up and both you and your ex moved on, while remaining friendly. Then your ex hooks up with a new partner, one who happens to have a newspaper column. You then proceed to read terrible things about yourself and when you discuss this massive invasion of your privacy with your ex, you are told 'unlucky, that's their job'.
Or put yourself in the shoes of his children- this godawful hack is now printing that your dad "never loved anybody like he loves meeee" and that he left your mum because YOU stole all her attention.
These are the people who have my empathy. As far as I'm concerned, the moment D'scrace started allowing her to write about anybody other than him, he sold these people (whom he presumably loved, once?) down the river without a second thought. I just hope that whatever he's getting out of it is worth it once the high wears off. And that he isn't banking on those people forgiving him.
I think my point (if I can find it!) is that most of the people Lizard specifically writes about have in some way interacted with her, or put themselves somehow in her line of fire. These were innocent bystanders whose only link is through the Dirty Baker. Yes she is the one publishing this stuff, but he is the one who a) is telling her these tales and b) actually owes them some kind of loyalty. She is vile, he is far worse.
Well it's been an eventful few months since I started courting old Lettuce.
Trouble is, I can't say it's been all that fab of late. Oh, in the beginning it was fine, the first flush of love and all that; snorting Deep Sleep Pillow Spray before a post-coital **** in bed, then waking up in a cat's cradle of arms and legs. (The latter played up with the old arthritis btw.) It was also a bit painful when she swung on my pony tail during our first proper snog, but I was prepared to let all that go in order to get some free publicity for the bakery (not to mention hankering after a taste of how the uber-privileged live). Yep. All things considered, it was rolling along quite nicely, our stepping-out, until the very public nit-picking started.
Letttuce began to complain, via her weekly Diary, that I'm some sort of freeloader, that I never get washed or launder my clothes, and that I don't know how to use that bloody Dunhill gold lighter she's made such an issue of. What's she trying to say? That I'm a thick Northerner as well? The other month she started nagging me to use my Farter's voucher for a wash and brush-up, so we went into town; me to Farter's and her to J Crew-Necks, apparently to buy me some grey sweat pants. I don't even like sweat pants - I like grease-stained and cig-scorched denims. Oh well. They did their best in Farter's, giving me a cut-throat razor shave and a blue rinse and blow-dry. Lettuce said later that I looked like a toddler, but I couldn't see it myself. Saying that, they did a sterling job of gouging the muck from my nails, but suggested a visit to a farrier's as their scissors weren't up to the job of cutting them.
I think what's really put the tin-hat on our courtship is her insistance on knowiing what all my texts and emails are about. It started very early on, with the 'Midnight Storm Hair' text. She was very flattered about that, but she never saw the actual texts that were exchanged, otherwise she would have gone into meltdown. They were really along the lines of this:
Mate to me: 'Which one of the gals looked like the Munch painting? You know, the Scream one?'
Me to mate: 'That'd be Liz. She's not changed that much.'
Now she's started rooting through my emails and publishing their content. She says she's got entitlement as she bought me the iPad in the first place. It's a bit like the sperm-stealing episode, you know, that one where she'd fed her then-boyfriend on M & S ready meals and then rifled the contents of the spent Durex whether he liked it or not. The poor sod. What she doesn't know is that one night, when she was soaking in chip-oil or something, I had a sneaky peek at some of her texts. One was from someone called Nic and read as follows:
'The cats need human organic prawns and chicken from M & S, served at room temperature. The dogs have partially devoured the post man - if they don't get their usual Chateau Briande in a royal jelly jus, I'm afraid they'll finish off his remains. How will I explain that to the P.O.? The horses have become skeletal as I can no longer afford to soak their hay in champagne, and your rescued racehorse has grown 6 inches of hooves/paws. They now resemble Aladdin's slippers! I don't know where you've been all these months, but please reply ASAP!'
Lettuce did reply to the strange text with this:
'Who the hell is this?!!! Why do you keep pestering me about bloody animals wanting gourmet food? I've never owned an animal in my life other than a plastic horse I used to trot along the lino when I was 9! Now bog off and don't contact me again, unless you're an old boyfriend who dumped me several year ago!'
Not great is it? Forgive me if my writing isn't up to scratch, but I never attended the London College of Printing.
Right, another batch of gluten-free dough to knock up. I'll just take off my socks . . . it might be a bit like treading grapes.
Just imagine you had a fairly long relationship which sadly broke up and both you and your ex moved on, while remaining friendly. Then your ex hooks up with a new partner, one who happens to have a newspaper column. You then proceed to read terrible things about yourself and when you discuss this massive invasion of your privacy with your ex, you are told 'unlucky, that's their job'.
Or put yourself in the shoes of his children- this godawful hack is now printing that your dad "never loved anybody like he loves meeee" and that he left your mum because YOU stole all her attention.
I agree with you. I think most of us have been through long-term relationships that have broken down, and would probably be very wary of a new partner coming in and being hyper-critical about someone they've never met.
Just because a relationship breaks down doesn't mean that the 'other-party' is all to blame... and when I've been in that position in the past, I've been at pains to point out to any new partner that 'we just grew apart' or 'it was six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other'. What I could never imagine is getting into a relationship with a nasty, spiteful individual, who would take it upon herself to crucify someone from my past in full view of the British public, just so that she could make her 'word-count' and collect her pay-cheque.
Whoever she was, she'd very quickly have been history and wouldn't have seen me for dust.
I don't know David Scrace, and so perhaps I shouldn't be judgemental and question his motives, but truthfully I can't imagine what he's getting out of this 'relationship' other than grief. Clearly he reads Liz's drivel, but he's no spring-chicken - not with a pony-tail like that - and so should have known well before now what he was letting himself in for.
If there was a 'business-angle' for initially jumping in to bed with Liz, then I can't see that it's served its purpose. I'd imagine that his co-shareholders won't agree that any publicity is good publicity. And... as you say, his family must be really 'chuffed' over Lizard spewing her one-sided views and dragging them into the national press through no fault of their own, and where - apparently - no one is even seemingly allowed to voice a counter-opinion any more.
In my not so humble opinion - and in the words of Jeremy Kyle - he needs to grow a pair, and kick Lizard into the long grass as soon as possible before he loses whatever credibility he has left with his family, friends and colleagues.
And...I think the Daily Mail need to take a leaf out of their own book, quit the hypocrisy, stop protecting her and give her the boot as well.
I wonder how many comments the dreary will - or won't! - get this weekend?
She really has completely lost it, but the Mail are even more insane by censoring the comments to such a militant degree. If the dreary doesn't come to an end very soon I will be shocked.
Just imagine you had a fairly long relationship which sadly broke up and both you and your ex moved on, while remaining friendly. Then your ex hooks up with a new partner, one who happens to have a newspaper column. You then proceed to read terrible things about yourself and when you discuss this massive invasion of your privacy with your ex, you are told 'unlucky, that's their job'.
Or put yourself in the shoes of his children- this godawful hack is now printing that your dad "never loved anybody like he loves meeee" and that he left your mum because YOU stole all her attention.
These are the people who have my empathy. As far as I'm concerned, the moment D'scrace started allowing her to write about anybody other than him, he sold these people (whom he presumably loved, once?) down the river without a second thought. I just hope that whatever he's getting out of it is worth it once the high wears off. And that he isn't banking on those people forgiving him.
I think my point (if I can find it!) is that most of the people Lizard specifically writes about have in some way interacted with her, or put themselves somehow in her line of fire. These were innocent bystanders whose only link is through the Dirty Baker. Yes she is the one publishing this stuff, but he is the one who a) is telling her these tales and b) actually owes them some kind of loyalty. She is vile, he is far worse.
You raise really good points here. I just figured DScrace was as bad as La Lizard but as you say, he is so much worse. What a repulsive man.
"having endured a sudden drop in income when I emerged from my TV job."
Um, didn't her TV job last about three weeks? Yes, when you finish an engagement you stop being paid for it.... I don't quite think this is what she means? Did she "emerge" to find that she'd been downsized at work?
Comments
I remember that phrase "You take care", too (she's told us about it often enough), ....but wasn't it her ex-husband who said it, not the RS?*
As for her shameful disregard for the privacy and feelings of DS's ex....quoting her private emails in print? Surely that contravenes some sort of press regulation?
Oh and Liz, please don't tar all husbands with the same brush. Grabbing hold of one's partner's spare tyre and calling her "Chubby" is certainly not the behaviour of any man I've ever known!
ETA: I just Googled "Liz Jones "Thank you for your support", and found this, written in the Diary in 2012:
The interview had gone so badly, him saying at the end, ‘Thank you for your support’, I had sworn I would never interview someone I fancied again. It’s too humiliating. I realised then, and I know now, that he and I come from completely different universes. He didn’t even notice me then, and, as it was 1983, I was in my prime.
...Not quite the same as saying it after sex during a relationship, as she now claims!
ETA*: From the Diary last May: I knew my husband was having an affair in India by his silence on the phone, his tone, his, ‘You take care.’
Bets on what the next one will be? "In which we make up"? "In which David crawls for forgiveness"? "In which I realise I am alone"? "In which I count my nonexistent blessings"? "In which the RS returns"?
You can’t bring a dog in here,’ a young lady told me. ‘But guide dogs are allowed,’ I said.
‘Are you blind?’ ‘No, but I’m deaf, and he is a hearing dog.’
‘Where’s his livery?’
‘It’s hot,’ I countered, to no avail.
Note, she initially infers it's a guide dog, rather than stating it's a hearing dog, which would have been the obvious thing to say... if she wasn't lying, of course. ;-)
That's just my guess, but I feel it has merit.
See, I remember the "hearing dog" thing and interpreted it as Liz demonstrating a flagrantly silly attempt to blag her dog into the event. But the trouble is, she writes these very exaggerated things that come off as humorous, then comes back to whinge and mope and treat the same things as deadly serious depending on her whim.
I sense that most of us around here see things in roughly similar ways, and can flavour our critiques as required; but I don't think I can be ar*ed any more to spend time, picking out discrepancies between this month's 'dreary', 'right minds' column
As a 50-something male, after having earned a degree from the 'University of Life', and being joint-stakeholder in two divorces; I can't begin to comprehend how this... this... acerbic, vitriolic hack can have spent a similar time-span on this planet and yet seemingly learned nothing from the experience that life has given her.
I'm not going to attack Mr Scrace, because all I have to base my opinions on are what Liz Jones has written, but suffice it to say that I'd have exited stage-left from their relationship even if I'd been in my twenties.
I can't imagine what 'head-space' he's living in at this stage... but I can imagine the 'head-space' currently being inhabited by his business's shareholders... and it won't be good.
At the very best Liz's 'dreary' over the past few years could be classified as 'polemic', but more often 'eccentric' or 'batty'. Over the past couple of years she seems to have lost touch with all semblance of reality, and her writings have been eclipsed by the comments of her readers. Over recent months, even the comments of her readers have been edited out... and so, all connection with Planet-Earth has seemingly been lost.
I hope that the Daily Mail will either drop Liz's diary, or re-label it more appropriately... perhaps something along the lines of 'Ramblings of a woman in need of therapy".:(
I couldn't agree more. And I can't get my head around what the DM are doing by not allowing comments; this surely must indicate the demise of the column since most people, myself included, only read it for the comments - most being far more entertaining than the column.
I just can't understand what their rationale is.
She seems to have been given the bullet by the DM and, surely, the MoS cannot be far behind. She bombed at the Press Awards last night (huzzah!) and her card must be marked. I suspect she thought there would be a TV job with Dirty Des after CBB but even he must have seen how unspeakably drab she is. Enquiries to the Wagfree bakery regarding her pensioner's overall cleanliness are being forwarded to Dscrace himself to deal with.
I totally agree with this, I have been reading the column on and off (more off recently) and last weeks was just extremely poor not written in a very readable form and boring as well. The only thing to do in the past was to combine it with the comments to make a entertaining read. With the comments now being seriously 'restricted' the whole point of the story is now lost. Liz now just seems hopeless.
I imagine it won't have been Liz's idea not to publish. She doesn't care what people think of her. It's just that the DM was genuinely concerned for her. And for Daaaavid. Awful things will have been said. Things so awful, it'll be hinted, that she doesn't even want to know the details.
"What details?" she will bellow down the phone, for she is profoundly deaf and can't tell how loud her voice is. "I am allowed to know what is being said about me." She does not want a repeat performance of the awful experience in which one of David's friends' friends wrote about her taking cocaine at a party in Herne Hill on Mumsnet - several months ago now, and long since deleted from the internet, but, you know, just in case we forgot - and David misguidedly kept it secret in order to protect her.
"Well they have said you should grow up," some random at the DM will have said. "They have said it is your fault that David's business is failing because you said he was filthy and didn't cut his nails. Also they said you had no business reading his emails to and from his ex."
She is appalled. She only said David left laundry on the floor and once smoked inside. Besides she has a right to read what his ex is saying about her, since his ex claims to be driven to nervous breakdowns every time Liz writes about her, forcing Liz not to write about her any more, even though she was so cruel to David and did not, unlike Liz, buy him grownup presents like iPads and a gold Dunhill lighter which he cannot work.
It is all too much. Perhaps she shall quit her job and spend time only with her animals. For they do not judge her and are grateful for her money showers. If only it were possible to do so, but sadly due to spending all of her money on the rest of the planet, she must work to pay off her mortgage.
Or put yourself in the shoes of his children- this godawful hack is now printing that your dad "never loved anybody like he loves meeee" and that he left your mum because YOU stole all her attention.
These are the people who have my empathy. As far as I'm concerned, the moment D'scrace started allowing her to write about anybody other than him, he sold these people (whom he presumably loved, once?) down the river without a second thought. I just hope that whatever he's getting out of it is worth it once the high wears off. And that he isn't banking on those people forgiving him.
I think my point (if I can find it!) is that most of the people Lizard specifically writes about have in some way interacted with her, or put themselves somehow in her line of fire. These were innocent bystanders whose only link is through the Dirty Baker. Yes she is the one publishing this stuff, but he is the one who a) is telling her these tales and b) actually owes them some kind of loyalty. She is vile, he is far worse.
Well it's been an eventful few months since I started courting old Lettuce.
Trouble is, I can't say it's been all that fab of late. Oh, in the beginning it was fine, the first flush of love and all that; snorting Deep Sleep Pillow Spray before a post-coital **** in bed, then waking up in a cat's cradle of arms and legs. (The latter played up with the old arthritis btw.) It was also a bit painful when she swung on my pony tail during our first proper snog, but I was prepared to let all that go in order to get some free publicity for the bakery (not to mention hankering after a taste of how the uber-privileged live). Yep. All things considered, it was rolling along quite nicely, our stepping-out, until the very public nit-picking started.
Letttuce began to complain, via her weekly Diary, that I'm some sort of freeloader, that I never get washed or launder my clothes, and that I don't know how to use that bloody Dunhill gold lighter she's made such an issue of. What's she trying to say? That I'm a thick Northerner as well? The other month she started nagging me to use my Farter's voucher for a wash and brush-up, so we went into town; me to Farter's and her to J Crew-Necks, apparently to buy me some grey sweat pants. I don't even like sweat pants - I like grease-stained and cig-scorched denims. Oh well. They did their best in Farter's, giving me a cut-throat razor shave and a blue rinse and blow-dry. Lettuce said later that I looked like a toddler, but I couldn't see it myself. Saying that, they did a sterling job of gouging the muck from my nails, but suggested a visit to a farrier's as their scissors weren't up to the job of cutting them.
I think what's really put the tin-hat on our courtship is her insistance on knowiing what all my texts and emails are about. It started very early on, with the 'Midnight Storm Hair' text. She was very flattered about that, but she never saw the actual texts that were exchanged, otherwise she would have gone into meltdown. They were really along the lines of this:
Mate to me: 'Which one of the gals looked like the Munch painting? You know, the Scream one?'
Me to mate: 'That'd be Liz. She's not changed that much.'
Now she's started rooting through my emails and publishing their content. She says she's got entitlement as she bought me the iPad in the first place. It's a bit like the sperm-stealing episode, you know, that one where she'd fed her then-boyfriend on M & S ready meals and then rifled the contents of the spent Durex whether he liked it or not. The poor sod. What she doesn't know is that one night, when she was soaking in chip-oil or something, I had a sneaky peek at some of her texts. One was from someone called Nic and read as follows:
'The cats need human organic prawns and chicken from M & S, served at room temperature. The dogs have partially devoured the post man - if they don't get their usual Chateau Briande in a royal jelly jus, I'm afraid they'll finish off his remains. How will I explain that to the P.O.? The horses have become skeletal as I can no longer afford to soak their hay in champagne, and your rescued racehorse has grown 6 inches of hooves/paws. They now resemble Aladdin's slippers! I don't know where you've been all these months, but please reply ASAP!'
Lettuce did reply to the strange text with this:
'Who the hell is this?!!! Why do you keep pestering me about bloody animals wanting gourmet food? I've never owned an animal in my life other than a plastic horse I used to trot along the lino when I was 9! Now bog off and don't contact me again, unless you're an old boyfriend who dumped me several year ago!'
Not great is it? Forgive me if my writing isn't up to scratch, but I never attended the London College of Printing.
Right, another batch of gluten-free dough to knock up. I'll just take off my socks . . . it might be a bit like treading grapes.
Thanks Seabird, and great post Suzy Cat.
I agree with you. I think most of us have been through long-term relationships that have broken down, and would probably be very wary of a new partner coming in and being hyper-critical about someone they've never met.
Just because a relationship breaks down doesn't mean that the 'other-party' is all to blame... and when I've been in that position in the past, I've been at pains to point out to any new partner that 'we just grew apart' or 'it was six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other'. What I could never imagine is getting into a relationship with a nasty, spiteful individual, who would take it upon herself to crucify someone from my past in full view of the British public, just so that she could make her 'word-count' and collect her pay-cheque.
Whoever she was, she'd very quickly have been history and wouldn't have seen me for dust.
I don't know David Scrace, and so perhaps I shouldn't be judgemental and question his motives, but truthfully I can't imagine what he's getting out of this 'relationship' other than grief. Clearly he reads Liz's drivel, but he's no spring-chicken - not with a pony-tail like that
If there was a 'business-angle' for initially jumping in to bed with Liz, then I can't see that it's served its purpose. I'd imagine that his co-shareholders won't agree that any publicity is good publicity. And... as you say, his family must be really 'chuffed' over Lizard spewing her one-sided views and dragging them into the national press through no fault of their own, and where - apparently - no one is even seemingly allowed to voice a counter-opinion any more.
In my not so humble opinion - and in the words of Jeremy Kyle - he needs to grow a pair, and kick Lizard into the long grass as soon as possible before he loses whatever credibility he has left with his family, friends and colleagues.
And...I think the Daily Mail need to take a leaf out of their own book, quit the hypocrisy, stop protecting her and give her the boot as well.
She really has completely lost it, but the Mail are even more insane by censoring the comments to such a militant degree. If the dreary doesn't come to an end very soon I will be shocked.
You raise really good points here. I just figured DScrace was as bad as La Lizard but as you say, he is so much worse. What a repulsive man.
How the hell did this woman ever get a job as a fashion journo?
Um, didn't her TV job last about three weeks? Yes, when you finish an engagement you stop being paid for it.... I don't quite think this is what she means? Did she "emerge" to find that she'd been downsized at work?