Hello! Bonjour! Willkommen!

June 29, 2010


From: John Davidson [mailto:XXCENSOREDXX]
Sent: 29 June 2010 05:01
To: Emma Davidson
Subject: RE: back from nantes

Hi 2 u. I bin to Nntes – quite a long time ago, went with some (well, all of her ecept her farkin brains. Why would she be with me? She could parlez France. She was a school teacher, all of whom are quite queer. Still she was honest. I could rely on her leaving some FRANCS IN THE HAT WHILE (fark caps lock) blew my bollocks off playin La Compasita along the boulevardes. Yeah being young wasn’t all bad. Gtting them preggars was the curse!sounds likeyou had a good time . Good on you. You only have one shot at living kiddo. MY REGARD TO MISS fERRET, who looks after her when you scarper into the wilds of Europe. How’d you like YOURcountry being ruled by a Welshe woman from Barry – near Cardiff? She’s a lot brighter thabn the predecessor, Kevin Rudd. God love us. He blondes his hair. Still not hitting it off with your sister.. Not him you dick. ME Don’t think I’ll ever be on good terms with her. Bollox, anyhow. CHEERS to my 2 Friends. Meeow ya hairy bastardXXXXXX Luv ex yer Dad

June 7, 2010


On Wednesday last week, or maybe Tuesday, I decided I would go to Paris for the weekend. It was probably the best idea I have ever had because it turned out to be one of the best weekends I have had in a long time. Not only was the weather perfect, my buddies were in good form, flea markets open on the ground before me and the nantes crew sent me and mms of cocktail glasses filled with macarons saying “we are in Paris”. Woohoo, I was too!


Tomato salad and olive oil & vanilla ice cream in the background there.

My favourite breakfast at L’Estaminet. After brekki there I FINALLY got to go to IMAGES & PORTRAITS the found photo shop on the corner of the Marché des Enfants Rouges and GO IN and wasn’t shooed away by the rudest man on earth.  AND I BOUGHT STUFF. All vintage black and white I got a weird nudie pic with a girl wearing a mask flashing her stained knickers, a pic of two men who had shot a deer in their garage and one looks like a lunatic, a family having a picnic in the ‘5o’s and look like total nutters, a pair of something I can’t tell you because they are a present for someone and a really nice picture of the silhouettes of the backs of some peoples heads looking at a flying helicopter. That last one is really my favourite best. It reminds me of the end of the world and is very sad and weird. A bit how I imagine some kind of flashforward. OH and a line of men on a stage that look like scientists holding number cards. So as you can imagine, a small fortune was parted with in the name of home beautiful. It is a shame the man who has the framing shop at the end of my street isnt such a lush because I would feel much better taking them all to him rather than relying on HABITAT.


Here we are outside Pierrot’s. That Heinekin glass is actually a gin and tonic. Yes. You read right.

Then please note the vodka bottle combined with the gin from earlier on and imagine the headache I had wandering around Paris on a boiling hot day in the Marais at a giant flea market there. Couldn’t have been happier, except for the head.

Goon’s face says it all really.


Here is Goon and Vincent about to start re-enacting their favourite scene from Brokeback Mountain at a picnic on the banks of the Seine before we tucked in to take away tarts from Tartes Kluger.

Later that night we watched a man standing in a tunnel on his own with his back to us. We weren’t sure if he was pissing, tripping, asleep against the wall, wanking… except he was motionless. On a closer inspection, he had been standing there for ages texting.

After that we wandered around and had quite delicious Mojitos in the warm night. Too good.


It is easy to see why Parisian women get their reputation.


Oh Didier…



What exactly have you and Nathalie done to me from your patisserie Pain de Sucre?

At the Parc de Vilatte there was some big festival thing. As Goon said giving me directions “Follow the hipsters”. A SEA of hot hot hot French men sitting around on the grass, looking casual and hot and curly haired and beautiful. And the most delicately flavoured cakes of my life.

I’m gonna skip the part about getting back and hitting my head on the taxi and crying all the way home, having to call Cards because I thought I lost my keys, spreading my entire suitcase across the pavement while Hobart who had been home alone for days meowed frantically trying to get closer through the window and then getting a cold because that would just ruin A PERFECT WEEKEND AWAY!

May 31, 2010


If I make quickly take this opportunity to quickly correct my last post – I couldn’t have got it more wrong – Jess’ movie is called “THE DUST NEVER SETTLES” and I loved it. The music was by The Dirty Three and Hobart who was asleep next to me was twitching the whole way through – she must have felt the fingernails down a blackboard vibes from me – but the images of Australia and the characters Jess & Spenny met included in the film are great. All the shots of the world passing by from their moving vehicle reminded me of being a really little girl looking out the window of my Dad’s Ford as we drove around Australia.

I don’t know if Jess has a website or any links or anything anywhere – a google search turned up nothing – but I will try and fish around for more when I see her on Tuesday at work.


May 30, 2010


I’M A KILLER from myghanaradio.com

Mboje Kofi, an 18-year-old suspected wizard at the Gnani Witches Camp, near Yendi in the Northern Region, left many in shock when he confessed to using witchcraft to kill people at the age of 10.

According to him, this led to his banishment from Binchera, a farming community in the Nanumba North District at that tender age. He said he has since been living in Gnani with other suspected witches for close to a decade now.

Narrating to DAILY GUIDE reasons for his morbid action, Mboje Kofi claimed he was always verbally abused by a girl he named as Bigneba; but each time he tried beating her up, her relatives protected her.

This, he indicated, hurt him so much that he found it extremely difficult to forgive the little girl and therefore used powers he claimed to have received from another relative to kill her.

He told DAILY GUIDE that relatives of the victim were suspicious that he had a hand in her death and after some spiritual consultations, their fears were confirmed, leading to his banishment and subsequent relocation to the witches’ camp.

The suspected wizard admitted he was rendered powerless after being ostracized, claiming that until then, he used the powers to protect himself.

He revealed that he felt powerless now, especially as he lived under deplorable conditions, but feared if he returned to his village, he would be killed too.

Mboje Kofi’s confession was not different from that of 55-year-old Chacoja Nnogme, who also claimed that he inherited the powers of witchcraft from his late father, which he used to terrorize the residents of Nakpa.

The suspect also admitted killing some people, leading to his being chased away from the village and later, complete banishment.

He told DAILY GUIDE he used to fly at night searching for victims, particularly people with whom he had personal scores to settle.

Mr. Chacoja said prior to his banishment, there was an unhealthy competition between him and a colleague whose name he gave as Billaga, over succession.

According to him, Billaga was always amassing a lot of wealth for himself which he envied so much and therefore killed him with his spiritual powers.

His victim’s relatives, according to him, suspected and fingered him over the death of his colleague and he was dispatched to the camp since its establishment as a witches’ camp.

When asked to give a vivid account of how he flew at night and killed some of his victims, he expressed fear, saying he could not do that without mentioning the names of the spirits that aided him.

He indicated that once he had been rendered powerless, if he dared mention the names, he would be struck dead, pleading with DAILY GUIDE to leave the matter at that point.

Mr. Chacoja is currently a peasant farmer in the camp, and during the wet season, he produces charcoal for sale in the lean season.

The chief fetish priest of the Gnani Camp, Alhassan Shei, who took DAILY GUIDE round the place, said the suspects, after being rendered powerless, preferred to stay at the camp, for fear of being lynched in their communities.

He said various items used for the witchcraft, including amulets soaked in human blood, were retrieved from most of the suspects after the purification exercise.

Mr. Alhassan said all inmates had been cleansed of witchcraft and were no longer harmful to society, but was worried about the increasing numbers at the camp.

To this end, he appealed to National Commission on Civic Education (NCCE) and Commission on Human Rights and Administrative Justice (CHRAJ) to embark on a sensitization drive to enable the inmates to reunite with their families.

There are about 10,000 women in various witches’ camps in northern Ghana who are living under deplorable conditions.

Several attempts by human rights activists and organizations to have these camps closed down have not yielded any positive response, but analysts say sustained public education is the antidote to the abolition of this long-term outmoded cultural practice.

And seriously, there are alleged witches camps in Ghana. http://www.actionaid.org/ghana

On Saturday Dora and I had a long conversation about possible witches and things that happened to her when she was pregnant with Hetti and people trying to put curses on her. She also spent a long time impersonating Chinese people how they talk. Kenji has to see it. He will die laughing.

May 17, 2010



On one of my night wanders in Hong Kong, I went looking for the street of fortune tellers near the Temple Street Night Market. While behind me older men and women really murdered some karaoke hits [Hot Breath Karaoke should really come and put on a show there - it would be hilarious!!!] Tenly Wong read my fortune from my hands, face, date of birth and bones. The only info I gave him was my date of birth and nothing else. If you know me and know my job, it is kind of uncanny that he would say working in a fashion company on a computer would be lucky for me.

He also told me that I have to concentrate less on my job because my nose is my number feature on my face and I will always find money. Same with my palms. Same with my birthday. What I should spend more time on is ROMANCE.

Then he told me Hong Kong or Singapore would be very lucky for me for romance. Then he asked me if I have a boyfriend. I told him that was a personal question. I don’t think he would understand the love I have with Hobart the cat who since I have been back comes up to be all nice, then suddenly decides to throw shade and turns her back on me.

Anybody travelling to Hong Kong soon, check out Tenly Wong on his website www.tenlywong.com

As for all single men – watch out!!

May 12, 2010


I’m at gate 16 with a bloated period belly and lower back pain as a result of strutting round Hong Kong like Miss It. Or Germany’s Next Top Model. Whichever is trashier in a tasteful way.

Today was Bird Market – if I didn’t have bird flu before I sure do now – flower market and then fabric and trims district. I dropped a few bombs in a few shops stocking up on supplies like buttons.

Then I went to The Dragon-Centre in west west west west Kowloon. Don’t go there unless you like looking at piles of trash in the street and old people selling trash on blankets etc like me and enjoying the beauty in sadness.

The point is though at big shopping centres there are always clean toilets and food courts. Today was a Pizza Hut lunch. Get this – pepperoni tortilla pizza. A wafer thin base almost like paper with pepperoni, cheese, sauce, sweetcorn and PEACH. Too fucking good.

I’m sad to leave Hong Kong.


Last night after wandering around the funeral district I ended up walking into a Chinese theatre in what wasn’t much grander than a car park I guess. No-one spoke English, but even so I was invited behind the stage with the rickety floor watching the make-up costumes and getting my picture taken on their mobile phones. Dinner was outside sitting on rugged plastic children’s furniture. While I ate my congee, the old old audience of toothless people with scabs on their legs and no teeth watched the noisy old opera. There was a strong scent of incense from the temple in the corner. If I had the nerve I would have asked if they could make my face up. So awesome.

May 11, 2010


Yesterday I saw a fish getting it’s head smashed in, a giant hunk of liver hanging on the side of the road dripping blood into the street, I ate dim sum in a place where I was the only whitey with toothless old men and saw a little cat standing on the top of a pile of fruit in the open air market meowing its little face off while a man kicked a plastic crate full of holes and chicken gizzards down the hill in front of him.

Not sure which part left me feeling the most squeamish.

May 9, 2010


Hello to those of you who go even further than your freeview box allows I want to tell you a little travel secret.

At Melbourne airport at Terminal 2, just past duty free and left down what’s looks like Hudson Coffee’s lounge area is Gate 2 your secluded gate to travellers paradise. There is never anyone in there who isn’t there to do what you do – lie out flat on the row upon row of empty sets with a view of the runway and no casual passers by who will gawp at you having a private moment.

It may not sound like much but to those of you in the know, you’ll know.

My other international travelling tip is Dr Fish Spa at Terminal 1 in Changi Aiport, Singapore to break up the long haul horrors. The fish pool treatment with live fish is optional IMHO, but the massage is not

May 8, 2010


Some homes in 7008 on a walk back to Mum’s house from The Green Strore where we had a good lunch.

Mum’s Ranch

May 7, 2010


Melbourne and back and I hear there is some more volcanic ash problems back in the UK. What they need is some of this Tasmanian wind to blow the ash back up north to where it came from. I will speak to God, Allah, Jah, Buddah etc at their card game tonight and see what I can do for us all.

A giving up on life waiting room at a train station in Melbourne. For when your life is going no-where.

BUT!! I have to say, seeing my old friends Elissa and Ray was MAGNIFICENT. I don’t think I laughed so hard in ages; remembering THOSE OUTFITS, gossiping about who was with who then / still, the obsessions! HAHA. I wish I had more time in Melbourne now. It is such a pretty city! Small but gorgeous.

The restaurant I went to with Ray was BANGING. If you want to see the pictures from The Commoner please visit here.

Anyway no real news other than I hear Hobart is doing well in London. I can’t wait to see her and try and put her head in my mouth because I love her so much. Dad has requested a cheese cake for his next offering after polishing off a nut pie made with pecans, walnuts and chestnuts since I have been away in Melbourne.

A shame about the crack in it. Otherwise perfect.

Oh I have been doing a photographic essay entitled ARCHITECTURE IN HOBART which I will publish soon. Only I have just learnt that my good camera – I left the fucking charger back in London and I only have the charger for the shitty camera. I have the shitty camera but I really wanted the good camera for Honkers!

April 27, 2010


There is a lot of brown on Clarendon Street including opulent plastic fruit at Pat’s and loads of pussy down at Mum’s. What would DJ Godfather say about that F.U.P.A.?

April 26, 2010


A beautiful piece of graphic work from the travel agent we use at work who arranged my trip to Australia and handled everything while the volcano was erupting. Design like this doesn’t happen as often as it should these days. I long for when every business in the state involved a map of Tasmania some how and their intials stamped across it. There is a really good roofers van in Tufnel Park like this too.

Anyway then after Mum and I talked about it for a second, I stopped thinking about it and went and had a shower. I picked up the shower gel and couldn’t stop laughing – everything now in Australia seems to have these really stupid names for everything. Instead of whatever flower it was, the shower gel was called “Japanese Zen” with this bottle covered in swooshy brush strokes and waterlilies or something. What is this?

There is some coffee drink in the kitchen called “French Liasions”. I can assure you every French liasion I have had I have not been able to swallow all too smoothly – too much huffing and puffing, agnst and hand wringing agony [on their part] and definitely not the name for a drink. A French Liasion sounds more like something to choke on to me.

It was the same on the airplane. We didn’t just get a muffin, we got “healthy seeded something stupid muffins”. Once you read the name, there was no suprise left and appetite totally spent imagining it all swirling half chewed in your stomach, knowing what it would all eventually become when you flushed the toilet.

In other news, I woke up in the middle of the night crippled with freezing. My sister and I call Mum’s house the iceberg. I lay there for a while almost crying thinking “I wish there was someone to call out to! I want a blanket, a tea and a hot waterbottle.” I had to get up an do it myself. It really makes no sense that central heating is not a bigger deal here in Tasmania for the winter.

Here I am on Mum’s sofa looking a right state this morning, still freezing. In horrible little fleece lined lesbian coloured ali baba slippers of my mums. The shame.

A bit later though I went out into the garden and pruned roses, cut back plants, chopped down these weird tree things, pruned two apple trees and filled the trash pack for Mum. Then we had sausage sandwiches under what was left of the apple tree in the sun.

April 25, 2010


Folks, when the fish finger sandwich is on the table, you know you have really come home.

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