Actually, I thought the 2 horses have always belonged to Nic. The 2 rescued ponies and Lizzie who died belonged to Liz.

The spa and Cotswold things, she doesn't say she paid for them. Just a bit of trolling by the genius manipulator of the readers.
I can imagine her facing people looking for their payments out and saying 'I haven't any money' and thinking that is then end of it. Years of this, even being taken to court for non payment of bills (she told the person she wasn't going to pay him, hence no choice but to go to court) and she has learned nothing.

LIz Jones' shopping list:

1) Marks and Spencer prawns for the cats
2) Vet meaty treats for the "puppies"
3) Dyptique candles
4) Spa wax treatment
5) Chaff
6) Personal tarot reading from New York psychic
7) Ayurvedic massage and reflexology session
8) Hydrating masque treatment
9) Half dozen vegan eggs
10) Organic furniture spray to get rid of cat wee odour
11) You see? No money for food other than one egg a day (none on Sundays)

Why on earth does she need waxing, unless it's on bits that people can see (her upper lip, say, and she could do that herself easily)? If a man prefers that and she's willing to do it, why not wait till said man is actually on the horizon and then do diy? Is there something wrong with letting nature take its course? Telling the world 'My scrawny and aging lady bits are BALD' seems bizarre.

Mr. Althea made a sort of "yuuugh" noise at the thought of bare lady bits, so not everyone likes the thought. He thinks, on the other hand, that Liz would be a wonderful vice presidential pick for Donald Trump. They do have a great deal in common.

Well! Were I Nic, I'd be looking for another job, fast. SO much lack of sympathy from Jones, just moaning about how weak she and friend (does she actually have any? She's always moaning she doesn't) digging poor Hilda's grave.

Funny that BOTH Oxford University AND the interview were both cancelled ... hmm, wonder why .... but never mind, she got to stay (in a SUITE, hope you noticed that). Plus two dogs, one of which chewed up some dog bed. And during dinner, they were allowed to run around the restaurant. Don't get me wrong, I'm a cat person but I like dogs, but not sure that I'd want two dogs running around a restaurant when I'm eating.

Then - oh horrors, called by friend because Sam 'disorientated' or whatever and she has to get back quick. 'Three days and five hundred miles and alll for nothing' she whines. So she does the rational thing - books in for a 'spa treatment'. Honestly, so much for her 'concern' about her menagerie.

As for her ramblings about bankruptcy, SHE IS ALREADY SUBJECT TO AN IVA. See https://www.insolvencydirect.bis.gov...127&CaseType=I
Does she think that converting this into going bankrupt will enable her to keep her house etc? I have absolutely NO idea of the rules about IVAs or bankruptcies. She moans about having to rent a 'sh**hole'. Nice. As for HMRC baying for her back tax, forcing her to rent the sh**hole, good for them! The woman's near moronic about her financial affairs - I bet her accountant warned and warned her, but would she listen? She earned shedloads of money but still messed up. And she had the nerve to blame her accountant in an earlier Dreary or Farticle!

So she implies she hasn't eaten for two weeks? Really? And she works ... I'm losing track - is it 84 hours a week or 21 hours a day? Been trying to do the maths (lost my calculator) ... doesn't quite add up. Seven days a week working 12 hours day equals 84 hours. But 21 hours a day??????

Meanwhile, no more about poor Nic, apart from the comment she was 'ill in bed again'. Were I Jones, I'd be pretty concerned about my 'friend'/employee being so ill they're coughing up blood. But not in Jones's world, obviously.

Hi Amikolaichek - hope you get good news on a date to sort your hip soon. Constant nagging pain is really wearing, isn't it.

Can Jonesey convert her IVA into bankruptcy? I would have thought her financial advisor would have suggested that if it were possible and the best thing to do?
I am amazed if a hotel that is dog friendly lets them into the actual dining room. The site says pets are allowed but not where in the hotel. In her room and in the bar only, I would suggest.

Is Nic still with her, I wonder? I couldn't find her on Faceache but that could be me! She could well have an ulcer or be suffering from stress. Wonder if she's getting sick pay?

I still can't understand the MOS publishing this - it's as mad as their obsession with the Kartrashians!

Thanks, Jennifer_Jones, got a friend arriving this evening so I'm all drugged up. Not sure the stuff does much for the pain but it sure cheers me up!

I understand from my Deep Throat source that Nic is still living in the cottage attached to Jones's house (but they/I may be wrong about that). Quite horrifying, the more I think of it, Jones's complete lack of concern about Nic. Still, we can all rest at ease knowing Jones has been well and truly 'waxed' ... just in case The Baker, or The Rock Star or ... whoever, rolls up and demands his 'pre-nuptials'.

Nicola Bebb.
For this is she.

https://www.facebook.com/nicola.bebb142

Blimey, she's always had photos of a horse before and now she's Groucho Marx!

Cheers for the link but not on the Facebook thing (life not exciting enough to publish in photos ! ) so what Miss Bebb looks like is still a mystery. Is she the physically stronger looking of the two ? Going by all the moaning I got the impression Nic is this power house of muscles compared to the delicate pampered Lizbott.
Hard to know for sure though cos you've got all the self pity going down every week, each time a task is performed, be it driving from where she chose to live to where she choseS to work or looking after the animal's she brought into her life. Every little thing is relayed to us in winge format.

Just wondering if I read the diary correctly, did she actually say her next home will be a sh*t hole ? If that's the case I wouldn't want to rent her a house ! So she's basically saying that us normals who don't earn gazillions each year all live in sh*tty little properties, well below her snooty standards. This latest situation is certainly bringing out the real Liz. Such a lovely woman. Hah !

I have a horrible feeling that I am writing from what Liz would call a little sh**hole. It reminds me a bit of a poem by the great American poet Emily Dickinson that starts

I've a sh**hole
How 'bout you?
Do you live in a sh**hole too?

Well, okay, it doesn't go quite like that; it starts "I'm nobody". Anyhow, I'm nobody, in Liz's terms, writing from what Liz would call a sh**hole and I call my pleasant little house in a forest, and I send good wishes to all who are in pain or sorrow (or who aren't, for that matter).

I know it would be stalking and I don't suggest it, but I sometimes wish there was a camera that followed Liz from place to place and from room to room (except for a couple of rooms. There are things I'd rather not witness). Does she in fact work 28 hour days, 10 days a week? If so how does she fit in her SATC marathons and her many appointments for self beautification?

My guess is that Liz regards the former as crucial business watching for a go-to Girl Fashionista, or whatever dated term she'd use, and that she sees self-(snort)-beautification as another crucial part of being an old hag who sometimes writes about clothes. Therefore her pedicures, threading, and so on happen on WORK time in her mind, as does her TV watching (and descriptions of driving to a vet's office while threatening bloody murder via cell). She writes anything that happens = it has happened on WORK time.

I'd also like to see how many bottles of wine are in the bin at the end of the week.

You have to remember that Liz used to refer to the Dulverton house as "the hovel" and that sold for around £1,750,000 - so her standards are somewhat strange.

The other thing that Liz seems to do it categorise everything that she does as being part of her "working day" as her life seems to have no boundaries between her working and private life
- she chooses to live 6 hours from London and classifies her 12 hour commute as "work"
- if she has a weekend away that becomes a sentence in the dreary - then it becomes "work" and claimed as a work expense
- having read the dreary - even her engagement photos were "work"
- she seem to regard her hobbies as work as well - she regards the animals as "Nic's job" therefore when she does it - it is "work"

So all of her holidays, hobbies, family events and beauty treatments are all "work" by her definition

That's it in a nutshell.

Everything to her is : work
: someone else's fault

Don't remember if getting fruity with the Baker or imaginary Rock Star was classed as work, will take a punt at it and say it wasn't but certainly the full wax and polish preparations were.
The way to look at it is unless she's got a glass in her hand or being sired sideways then she's working herself to the bone, and guess what ?
It's NOT HER FAULT

Your little sh*thole sounds divine !
But then what would us peasants know, huh ?
We've not been seated in the front row of some ridiculous decadent fashion show, or sucked up to by daft female-body-hating designers. So we know nothing of apparent good taste and classy standards. It's all so stupid and comical. My eyes tell me that Lizbott missed the bus when it comes any real sense of style or individuality. She can't even present herself very well from what I've seen. I recall her telling the great unwashed to only buy shirts a size too small to get the fit right. Then watched an interview with her pushing her moving to the countryside book where she was sat there with said too small shirt all gaping open. Laugh, I cried !

Oh yes, I saw that interview too, Ade, and thought the blouse looked dreadful - gaps wide open between the buttons. Fashion expert? Do me a favour!

So funny ! The. Fashion. Expert. Don't cha know

Yes, how lovely.
Also features Bottega Veneta dress that looks like an old potato sack and jumpers which probably cost a couple of hundred smackers, but Lizzy still manages to make them look like Primark. ''Midnight Storm'' hair looking like a bad wig too.

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=...VDHSOP&fsscr=0

The last couple of weeks of diaries ... one thing has stuck out for me. I think its because I have recently lost a beloved dog myself. I find it odd that she would bury him in the garden of a house she is about to leave. I would have thought she would want to either take him with her or scatter the ashes. It seems odd to bury a beloved pet in the gardens of a house she might walk away from in months.

Ade, I am a very old lady and not without, ahem, experience ... but what does 'being sired sideways' MEAN? My imagination going all over-active ...

https://www.facebook.com/nicola.bebb142?fref=ts

Oh my, during a sleepless night, I Googled Jones and TV appearances, and found this:
http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=...52&FORM=VRDGAR

Where she was interrogated by Holly Willoughby and her co-presenter (can't remember his name, sorry) about her 'sperm stealing' article in the Mail. For God's sake, Jones sounds totally irrational, contradicting herself, and ... utterly raving bloody stupid. And another things ... her weird jaw movements, ALMOST as though she has false teeth and they weren't firmly anchored in her mouth. Or was it her 'veneers' slithering all over the place?

She wanted a baby to 'get maternity leave' and for the 'man to stick around'?
I expect if she'd got pregnant she'd have thrown the child in the arms of a nanny and forgotten all about it while she attended to the menagerie of animals.

She really is the pits.

I'd probably do exactly that myself which is
a) why I have never entertained the idea of having children and
b) why my life is ruled by a little army of quadrupeds.

That's a free choice which the majority of people would say was your right to make.

There's a world of difference between your choice and Lizbot's.

But just think ... Jones with a baby. She'd cover the kid in layers of Brora cashmere, then moan and whinge and wail because it had sicked up its vegan milk all over itself ... or even worse, down Jones's VB frock or buttery suede jacket and spattered her Louboutins.