Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….



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Let’s get one thing straight, I never, ever watch the X Factor.

I don’t like the way the contestants are treated, I don’t like the way they rig the competition and, worst of all, I don’t like the way they take artists with genuine talent (well, about 50% of them anyway) and then mould them into tedious reality TV clones.

Then, when they’ve made their dosh and milked the person for all they’re worth, they cast them aside, and they end up touring Butlins, Pontins and working men’s clubs until they too get usurped by the next onslaught of ‘stars’, and their dreams are in tatters.

No. 25 my friends, No. 25.

Never change who you are for anyone.  Not even portly, puppet master Simon Cowell, the twisty, greedy bastard.

Andrea Faustini is currently in the final 6 for the boys category and ‘Judges Houses’ airs this weekend, and I have to say that I hope he doesn’t make it.

Because he’s just too good for that shower.

Listen to the above and you’ll hear why.

His voice, his conviction and this song inspired me this weekend and I hope it does the same for you, m’darlin’s.

I’m nearly broke, and at the mercy of some vindictive old bitch who hates me, I have to sell up and move to somewhere, I’m having to walk away from 2 years free therapy, I have no idea what my future holds and I’m afraid.

But guess what?

The only crumble is this house is a rhubarb and ginger one, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.

I did 8 of my challenges yesterday, and two of you have joined me so that’s gladdened my heart more than I can say.

Namaste and take care x


9 thoughts on “OPTIMISTIC MIX TRACK 18 – I DIDN’T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH – Andrea Faustini (X Factor UK)

  1. I’ve listened to him sing that about 10 times already! He’s really good.

  2. Play this every day, my love. You are a legend! And promise you’ll make me rhubarb and ginger crumble when I come to visit you on my next razzamatazz through the UK

  3. Go, Madame, you unstoppable rascal! GO! GO!! GO!!!

    The martinet mentioned above at who’s mercy you find yourself—is this that same warty, odiferous harridan from the property management company?

    I am both mortified and horrified that it has only just occured to me, Madame, however, one of my (few) friends works for the boutique New York branch office of an international outfit flagshipped in London, of which he speaks quite highly as an employer. Of course, I have no idea if they are looking to staff or if their business would even be of any interest to you (though, I think it may), but, if you would like to confer on the matter, I, as always, remain at your disposal. You know where to find me. 😉

    N.B. With Yom Kippur beginning at today’s sunset, I will be electronically incommunicado until roughly 9:00 pm. EDT tomorrow. So, should you express an interest in the last paragraph’s subject during this time, please do not think that I have chosen to turn-tail on said same. I’m just Jewing it up.

    • Can I just say that ‘Jewing it up’ is now my favourite turn of phrase?

      I’d love to work for anyone right now, but would love to be a fly on the wall when you tell your friend why you are recommending an old depressive with BPD that you have never met for a role at his work, that also has no off switch for self defeating behaviour! Don’t all queue up at once folks….

      Yes ’tis the same skin tag strewn, vinegar titted old termagant I’d previously mentioned, but I think I know just how to handle her now.

      Do a bit of atoning for me willya, if you get a moment? x

  4. Okay, Madame, first the Spiritual:

    We are both all set for the next year.  During the Sliechos (the multiple-page recitation of pretty much every infraction that anyone could possibly commit short of homicide), I silently dedicated to you one of the intermittent refrains of “And for these and all of our sins forgive us, grant us forgiveness, pardon us, grant us atonement” (the chanted Hebrew sounds SO very much less Calvinistic 😉  ), after which I hiccuped.  This I took as a sign that you were squared up.  I, of course, had several more hours to go, but, you were covered.  So, not to force the issue, and just to be safe, I would certainly appreciate a quid pro my quo next time you visit the confessional.

    Next, the Temporal:

    The entomological realty management couse?  I had every confidence that you would get a handle on that vantz (“bedbug” for the Yehudi set).

    We now proceed to the business of business.  The personal qualities that you list above?  They are not mine to provide.  I mean, come on, love—I can open the door, but, you gotta do the selling. 😉   The terms that I would use are those rococo bombasticisms with which I introduced myself here back on New Year’s Day and their ilk; you know, your ice-pick wit, bottomless depth, platinum soul, Johnsonian mind, that you are C. S. Lewis to my Joy Davidman (Ooh, literary. Fancy). My friend is already aware of your existence (you are known as “the London Blog Woman”), however, be assured, the content of your blog has never been discussed, only how I admire and think the world of you. (In fact, after finding your blog last year, when my friend would travel to the London home office, we had a few jesting text-message exchanges about his going to South London to find you for me. [I swear to you, Madame, it was nothing more than japery! 😉 ].) And, I am known for my 93.47% accuracy rate on human character assessment. (Of course, that statistic is aided by so much of our species being overt human trash.)

    PLEASE, be further assured, Madame, I have absolutely NO interest in compromising your anonymity or privacy. If you would like to actually explore this avenue, I will maintain an unbreachable divide between your blog-self (from my friend) and your corporeal-self (from me).

    My friend and I are scheduled to see one another on Tuesday, so, if this could be of any interest to you, that would seem an opportune time for it to be broached. Just let me know, Madame.

    (I have in the past apologized for compositional logorrhea, but, this monstrosity…D-o-o-o-e-e-e Jesus.)

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