Why Must I Be A (Perpetual) Teenager In Love?

When you think of schlock 50's teen movies you'd be forgiven for thinking of Grease first.  I can assure you however that if Grease tops your list then you've missed out on the masterpiece that is Cry Baby.  

Starring a very young (and hot) Johnny Depp I still adore this movie!  Having keenly followed Johnny in 21 Jump Street this film only fanned my rather large crush on Mr Johnny Depp. 

Recently however I've been reintroduced to the film thanks to burlesque class.  I literally jumped for joy when I found out that our main dance routine was to be done the track 'Please Mr Jailer' from the movie! This led to an almighty urge to re-watch the film. So watch it I did . . . 

After all these years I'm very happy to say it didn't disappoint.  It's still as funny, corny and sexy as it was when I was 10 years old.  More impressive however is that Johnny Depp, 20 years later, continues to make my heart skip a couple of beats.

I'm convinced there is some sort of witchcraft involved.  How else would the man still be able to reduce me to the state of lovestruck teenager after all this time?  And he is getting hotter! There must be a Dorian Gray style portrait decaying in some locked attic room or a devil at a cross roads rubbing his hands in glee at the prospect of collecting on this one.  I'm not complaining.  Trust me, I'm happy to continue 'admiring' Johnny Depp for many decadent years to come but it would be nice to be able to maintain some sort of maturity while doing so.

As for burlesque, well last night we got to learn the first part of our 'Please Mr Jailer' routine.  It was a tremendous night and I'm loving the routine despite it being truly exhausting!  We were paired off in a showdown of 2 femme fatales begging for the release of their lover, all of which culminates in a 'shimmy off'.  Yep, you guessed it, I love my Tuesdays nights!  My hubby doesn't seem too put out by them either.  Go figure!

Check out 'Please Mr Jailer' below. 

You Say Tomato . . .

Overheard on the bus today:

"She said that Helen called her a slag but there's no way Helen would say that.  She never uses language like that, she only called her a whore."

Oh I see.  Obviously no offense intended  by Helen then!

You Know It's a Good Day When . . .

 . . . you arrive home from work to find dinner is cooking & your husband is doing the hoovering in his underwear.

I'm spoilt.

To Sir With Love

Next to overheard conversations, unintentional innuendo has to be one of my favourite things.

Recently in work we were having a conversation about how we sometimes associate a particular sex with a profession. For instance we all automatically jumped to the conclusion that a university dean was a man.  A Judge, yep once again a man.

However once we got to Head Teacher it all went slightly awry when one colleague announced:

"You know head doesn't make me think of men"

Sometimes you can know a little too much about the people you work with!

Baked Alaska Anyone?

I consider myself a reasonably intelligent person (most days). I have to admit though I'm rather baffled by the phrase:

 'Liberal Conservative Government'

Anyone else seeing the problem here?!  

The Continued Misadventures of Lany B D'Lamour

Well last week I started my brand spanking new Ministry Of Burlesque accredited class. Yes you read that right, The Ministry of Burlesque. Having enjoyed my few taster sessions I'm now aiming to master the strut and peel.

Dressed like an extra from Fame my friend & I drove to our dance studio. Thirty minutes later as we pulled into a virtually abandoned industrial estate we had a moment of doubt. Was this really a good idea?

My fabulous new instructor (Miss Pretty S'vere!) taught us to slink and pose like Marilyn Monroe, a PussyCat doll or Weight Watcher of the week. To be honest, at this stage, most of my poses look more like belly pose 1, belly pose 2 & side belly pose. Still, with time (and a diet) I reckon I'll be able to pull it off.

Next week we start learning peels. Gloves on week 2 progressing to pants on week 6! Now I must admit this leaves me a little baffled as to what the following weeks will consist of as pants sort of seem like the limit of clothing removal to me (just to stop the inevitable nightmares, I will tell you now, I shan't be running round the studio in my scanties. Any clothing we remove is worn Superman style).

I must admit I'm loving the whole thing. It's so much fun and I've met some lovely people. In short it's got to be right up there in top ten things you can do while taking your clothes off.

Oh and apparently I also need a proper Burlesque name, most suggestions welcome!

Truly Deflated

You haven't experienced crushing disappointment 'til you get home to find your brand new sexy bluray boxset of True Blood has arrived, only to open it and find it's a box of tampons!

Pissed off doesn't even come close!

Wrong In So Many Ways

Overheard conversations, don't you just love 'em? I'll be honest, there's nothing more likely to make me smile than a snippet of random conversation. Oh, except for dogs with their head out the car window. THAT wins every time.

While walking to work this morning I overheard the following gem of conversation:

“You remember Saeed? Yeah, well you see he was Muslim, but he had a little bit of Christian in him as well?”

 Let it never be said Cardiff isn't a religiously diverse city.  

Ps. Well you guessed it, I'm back to feeling my bouncy and spry self again.  Shame I still sound like a chatline perv.