Tuesday, 1.20pm Dear Diary, Today the 'Bridget Jones's Diary' soundtrack arrived for me to review. One look at the artists involved and I spent the next hour shivering in fear. I relented and played the thing, and whored around for the next hour in an orgy of Britcom chick-flickery.
After spontaneously opening cans of low calorie soft drink to Gabrielle's 'Out Of Reach', and popping out to the newsagents with a confident yet sexy swagger to Aretha's 'Respect', I sat and contemplated over a bag of Monster Munch (yum! - don't care about the calories!) at how much further Geri Halliwell has to go before she actually becomes a gay man as her rotten, blindingly obvious cover of 'It's Raining Men' suggests she's finally growing a penis.
I sang along to oldies from Chaka Khan, Andy Williams and Diana'n'Marvin and tried not to smash the stereo in frustration at Robbie Williams' two contributions ('Have You Met Miss Jones?' being a preferable swing-thing compared to the hokesome 'Not Of This Earth') and counted the amount of Craigs involved in Artful Dodger's 'Woman Trouble' (17 approx). I also wondered if anyone else had heard of Rosey, Patrick Doyle or Aaron Soul other than their parents, and soon drifted off into a nice afternoon nap with thoughts of being ravaged by Hugh Grant.
