Blowing My Own Horn

What a triumph, bring on the fanfare! God knows, I deserve it. Now you know I wouldn't normally blow my own trumpet, or have anyone blow it for me. Well, depending who it is, darling! But I must admit the O2 was truly a huge challenge, which I thought we would never get through.

As you know, all of us here at the wonderful world of Pineapple have real jobs. Hold on, Laura has just given me a bemused look; I think I just read her mind. What the look says is, we all have real jobs and you just fart around giving us more to do. It’s o.k., she has just given me one of her beautiful big smiles to tell me how much she loves me, that her life wouldn't be worth living without me, and she couldn't get through the job if I wasn't by her side. Which is great; because I have a whole load of emails I've got to ask her to write for me when I finish this blog.

Back to the O2, back to me. As you all know from my previous blogs, there was minimal rehearsal and in fact there was none for me. What we did have was a run through for the acts, so they knew which order they were going in, and if the dancers needed a costume change, how much time they would need before they got back on stage.

But for me, being the thread to their ripped cloth, having to sew each act together and make it seamless, there ended up being no time to iron out the creases. Being the true professional, I didn’t scream, I didn’t shout, I just took a deep breath and did not release it until Friday morning at 8.30, when I arrived at the O2.

It was the first time I got to see the set; there were mirror balls the size of small galaxies swinging from the ceiling (I haven’t seen balls that big swinging from the ceiling in a long time). Straight away, I knew I was going to be fabulous! With my reflection spinning in those balls millions of times, how could we fail? Big balls and me: a show made in heaven!

The rest of the cast started to arrive: Andrew, PDG, and Wizard Sleeve - I know, pretty disgusting isn’t it? I only just found out what it means. If you don’t know what it means, look it up - nothing that can’t be fixed by those designer vagina surgeons that are out there now. There really is someone for everything nowadays, it’s pretty amazing, and I do love it. Anyway it’s far too early for me to be talking about vaginas, not really my area of expertise, and I’ve only just eaten my porridge.

Then I heard the shrill tones of Trisha! Oh, it’s all too much! But hold on, was I seeing things? Could it get any worse? It was DVD! And I don’t mean a disc you slip into your player. No, ladies and gentlemen, it was no other than David Van Day. Yes! Some of you younger ones might know him from I’m A Celebrity, Never Let Him Out Of There (Please), or some of us more mature crowd (but still looking bloody good) will remember him as part of the dynamic duo Dollar. Mind you, not worth a bloody cent nowadays.

Get me to my dressing room, I needed to centre myself and focus on the day ahead. First things first, costumes out! Well, I say costumes; see I thought it would be better if I supplied my own wardrobe. I needed to be comfortable and feel at home. So, every low cut v neck tee shirt I possessed was at hand, along with a couple of pairs of knee-high socks, because they look great with heels, don’t ask me why. Do ask me why, actually. It’s because I can; the heels that is. I can walk in them, I can high kick in them, and I look bloody good in them, so I thought, why not? Two pairs of shorts, one small and white, one very tight in red leather; I say leather, they’re pleather. That’s pretend leather to anyone who doesn’t know, but they look like leather from a distance; one pink gym-slip dress; one silver cat-suit, zip up front; two blond wigs, and a buoy. And I don’t mean a living, breathing boy, well not as part of the costume; I mean the ones that can save your life in the sea - you know the red things that bob up and down.

I’m not going to take you through the dress rehearsal; it was a disaster, absolute disaster. People coming on and off at the wrong time, sets getting stuck on the stage, stage hands with halitosis and bad b.o. and me, having to link it all together, totally unscripted of course. Because apparently, so I’m told, my genius is my quick wit and my sense of humour; and believe me, it was needed. They do say a bad dress run, a great show, but this was a calamitous disaster! With only one hour to go before the doors opened I really was questioning whether we should have just kept the show as we originally agreed, to something small and intimate, just for family and friends who really would be forgiving and love us, whatever disaster we would deliver.

But that wasn’t the case, and the show must go on. So I told everyone how fabulous they were, that the show was going to be a triumph and a success, that we were wonderful, talented people, and we could do this, if we all believed! I could almost hear myself speaking in an American accent and telling everyone that God loves them. God help me, because I was truly lying. Oh, and of course I didn’t knock on Trisha’s door; give me some credit!

Before I knew it, there I was wearing my costume, having my mic fitted in my dressing room, along with a few friends. I’m not naming names - Emma Bunton; Jade Jones; Antony Cotton; Jason Gardiner, to name but a few. But the most important of them all, was my beautiful husband, Leto.

No time for them to tell me how fabulous I was going to be and not to worry, it was going to be amazing. It was show time - Lights, Camera, Action - an hour and a half of pure entertainment! Everyone WAS fabulous and truly pulled it out of the bag. I can’t remember a thing, but I was told that, yes, I was genius, and the show was a huge success.

We did it! Yeah! Way to go! Sorry, it’s that American voice in my head again. Everyone was elated and brimming with self-adoration, but not me, I didn’t have time. Being the true professional that I am I couldn’t go to the after show party with celebrities and big wig producers; no, it was straight home for me. I had a script to learn on Saturday for my small, featured cameo in the first of hopefully many feature films; which, may I add, was another success.

I filmed this on Sunday morning alongside Mandy Moore who was absolutely charming, I loved her. She’s another NBF.

Oh! So I presume you all watched Celebrity Juice on Thursday? I had a fun time, as those of you who watched it could see. I loved my little sketch with Keith Lemon; I can be butch when I try! Talking of butch, so yesterday afternoon (Monday) I did a nude shoot! Yes! Well, all apart from a pineapple in front of my bits and pieces; it was for Cosmo magazine.

There are a few celebrities who have done it, because that’s what I am now, apparently, a celeb! It’s to raise awareness for a very important issue, testicular cancer. Yes, for all you boys who are reading this; get in a hot bath and check your balls! They should feel nice and smooth. Any kind of lumps or swelling, don’t wait ‘til it’s too late, get them checked! Oh dear, look at me getting all serious about balls. Or if not, just email me and I’ll come round and check them! Your choice!

So that was Monday, and all everyone needs to do today is go out and buy Heat magazine, which has a nice 4 page spread with me and the rugby players I told you about.





And also get More magazine, so you can read the interview with me and the fabulous Alan Carr. What are you still doing reading? You should already be up by now, running to the shop to buy the magazines.

Oh, and don’t forget the Sun as well, my dad just rang me to tell me that I’m in it today. Honestly, this is so much fun, I’m pissing my pants; it’s too funny that everyone is showing such interest in me! And honestly, if I have to sleep with another journalist! It’s killing me!

Love and kisses,

Louie

P.S. Grazia Grazia for the fantastico article in this week's issue!

My Head Is In A Spin!

As Kelly Marie sang in her '80's hit, my head is in a spin, my feet don't touch the ground. And there have been so many people near to me my head is going round and round, my knees are shaking, my heart is beating like a drum! Boom Boom! Boom Boom!

In fact it almost exploded (my heart, that is) when I was sprawled across the Saracens scrum on Tuesday morning. I said scrum, although I was swimming in ecstasy! Actually I was quite prepared to let myself drown. They were a burly bunch of public school boys with buns of steel and thighs you couldn't wrap your arms around. And believe me, I tried.

Sorry, let me keep you in the loop, I'm getting far too carried away with myself. It's the Saracens I'm talking about; they are a professional rugby team in St. Albans. This is the photo shoot for Heat magazine, my four page spread, which I believe will be out on 30th March. Don't miss it, believe me, it's hot! It was well worth the hour and a half car journey up there. I'd recommend it to anyone!

Oh, by the way, I had a fabulous audition for my feature film. Well, it's not my feature film, it is Mandy Moore and Martin Freeman who are the stars, but I got the part! Can you believe it? Honestly, I can't! Admittedly they were looking for someone quite flamboyant (gay), so maybe it wasn't down to my acting skills at all. But I don't care! I'll be high kicking and back flipping all the way down the red carpet at the premier.

That was on Monday - I know my days aren't in order on this blog, but like I said, Kelly Marrrrrie! Let's try and get my days in order.
Wednesday: Alan Titchmarsh (who I kept referring to as Alan Tit-Marsh, oops) and Celebrity Juice, all in one day. I know, there's not enough of me, is there? So, I arrive at the BBC, where I'm quite a regular nowadays what with my Harry Hill appearances week after week.

On the way in, I bumped into Gabby Logan (actually I didn't bump into her at all, she made a bee line straight for me), who said how fabulous I was, and said I should be a household name. I said, ‘I'm working on it Gabby’. I nearly said, it was on the tip of my tongue, 'Do you want me to lay across your husband's back in a scrum?' (Because I'm good at that now.) But I didn't, I stopped myself, it wasn't the time or the place to discuss that type of thing. I needed to be shown to my dressing room quick sticks.

Notice how I said 'my' dressing room? Can you all take note of that? Well, it wasn't mine at all. Also appearing on the show alongside me was PDG (Pineapple Dance Group). Now, it's not that I mind sharing with twelve dancers, but when I do Harry Hill I have the same dressing room as Jay-Z, Beyoncé, and the GaGa. I do believe in consistency; I'll get my agent to have a word.

Anyway, one of the PDs or ADs or VDs, I don't know what they are, they all have titles in TV, gave me a little rundown of what was going on in the show. Well, I thought I was going to sit on the sofa and have a chat with Alan about perennial borders, but no! After PDG had done their dance I was to walk on, centre stage of course, where Alan would be standing in a very respectable suit and do a few moves with him and the warm-up guy.

I didn't let her see my dismay at not being on the sofa; we were taken to the studio and I worked out why I wasn't. Well! Lulu had slipped her way in; because she's very slight you know. She's tiny in fact. I suppose that was the confusion, us both being Lou's and tiny and slight - I just assumed they meant me in the script, not the Scottish dynamite.

Mind you, alarm bells should have rung when I overheard one of the PDs or ADs or VDs, whatever you call them, talking about Lulu's interview (which I presumed was me), mentioning how well Lulu was looking, not having had any surgery. I thought, that's a lie, everyone knows I've been 'toxed and filled, I've got nothing to hide! When they mentioned I was married to John Frieda and that the key to my youthful looks was a good bob, it made me wanna shout 'Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!' But I didn't, I just gasped and held my breath - for about a minute.

Yes, it was the other Lulu! She was plugging some book or something, I don't know, I didn't have time to listen anymore.

I was taken backstage to prepare for my entrance - 5, 6, 7, 8, I'm on! Alan briefly mentioned the O2 show that I'm hosting and then asked me to teach him some dance moves. Obviously I started high-kicking and back flipping. Well, I thought if I'm only on for three minutes I'm going to make the most of it, he certainly won't be high-kicking or flipping! And as for the audience, lovely as they were, after my little escapade they all needed to plug in to recharge their pacemakers. Maybe I was just a bit too much. What do you think?

Swiftly, moving on to Riverside Studios, Hammersmith, for Celebrity Juice, with Keith Lemon, Holly Willoughby and Fearne Cotton; much more my cup of tea. They were all alive, not plugged in to their pacemakers. Now, this was more like it, I had my own dressing room with a fridge full of drinks! Not that I drink, I can't do any stimulants, you can imagine!

I also had some lovely treats, face cream, chocolate and body scrub, all free. There was also one of those sweet smelling candles that wasn't for taking, but it wasn't nailed down so I took it anyway. Not even time to fart and I was on set - I'm not on the panel this week, I'm poking my head through a couple of holes and coming out of a closet. As you can imagine, it was a riot!

So it's Alan Tit-Marsh (I mean Titchmarsh) today, ITV1 at 5pm, and Celebrity Juice tonight at 10pm on ITV2. I'll be on the panel of Celebrity Juice next week, or maybe not, they might change their minds - who knows? Maybe I shouldn't have stuck my tongue down Keith Lemon's throat and spread my legs so wide on his desk. But hey-ho, I did!

Love you and leave you, I'm back off to the Beeb to see my old friend Harry, who always gives me my own dressing room. You can see how that went for yourself on Saturday, of course if you have nothing better to do than watch me!

xxx

What a Wonderful World!

You need to keep up to speed, I'm not backtracking. Things are moving way too fast and I'm riding it like a rocket!

As I said when I left you last, I had two press interviews and I was off to Harry Hill. The press interview was fabulous! I terrorised a very handsome young cameraman who was filming the whole thing for Sky Magazine. I know I shouldn't but I just couldn't help myself.

I was then whisked off to Harry Hill; lucky you're not sitting in front of me while I say 'whisked' this early in the morning. Honestly, you would need a shield in front of your face like they use at the hairdressers before they attack you with Elnett. It takes a bit of time for my tongue to warm up in the morning, but everything else is fine.

As those of you who were watching Harry Hill would have seen, my pussy was quite impressive, once I'd choked up my fur ball. I'm getting to feel quite at home with Harry, me old mate! Sorry, I should say award winning Harry Hill! Anyway, enough about him, back to me.

Friday morning, a meeting about the O2 show, which I will be hosting. Have I told you about that or not? Yes, yes, yes! I'm hosting the O2! I'm trying not to think about it too much at the moment, it's one day at a time. And talking about time, I ain't got time to think about it!

Let me tell you about Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I'm going to make this quick, because I want to get back to today, Monday, so I can run you through my busy schedule.

Friday, after the O2 meeting (did I mention I'm hosting the O2?) - oh, I did? Fine. At 6 O'clock I met Carmine at The Ivy - sorry, how could I miss out Laura? (gasp!) - me, Laura and Carmine. Do I need to explain that Carmine is Jake Canuso, who plays the waiter in the hit show Benidorm, which I have already mentioned in one of my blogs?

So, it was burger and chips for me and Carmine, and two bottles of rosé, thank you very much - Laura was on her liquid diet again, as per usual. I know why I always have a two glass of wine quota - because I just lose myself; like I'm not pretty full on anyway.

Let me tell you what happened. There I was on my third glass of rosé when a very handsome TV executive (I presume, because I'm very big in TV circles at the moment - apparently I'm hot, hot, hot!) said to me 'I'm loving you in your show'. I didn't interject and tell him that it isn't my show - there's a whole load of other people in it.

I pointed to his friend and said very theatrically and loudly, 'And I love Gary Lucy!' With an awkward laugh he made his way back to his friend. Carmine had tears of laughter rolling down his face at this point, for a reason unbeknown to me, until he caught his breath enough to spit out that it wasn't Gary Lucy at all, it was Will Mellor, from Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, thank you very much. Oh well, shit happens!

On finishing my third glass of rosé, that naughty Miss Bunton (that's Emma Bunton, I have mentioned her, haven't I, that she's one of my best friends?) called to ask if we would like to join her at another bar for a few drinks? We agreed and got out of there as quick as poss, after my Gary Lucy / Will Mellor mistake at The Ivy Club.

Oh dear, the fresh air hit, I got that floating-on-air feeling and I couldn't quite get my tongue around my lisp. Now that's a worry. It was water all the way for me from then on, and another wonderful evening with Miss Bunton and her gorgeous partner Mr Jade Jones, who we all love.

Oh, did I mention? We were also with Leigh Francis, better known as Keith Lemon or Avid Merrion, who you can imagine is also great fun to be out with! I managed 'til about midnight with these guys. I know it all sounds very glamorous being at a private members' club in Berkeley Square, but when you've got a schedule like mine you've got to know when it's time to go, and it was about midnight for me.

Early to rise, on Saturday I popped down to Move It at Olympia in London, which was great. I watched some amazing dancers and loads of people came up to me and said how much they are enjoying the show. Everyone was so lovely!

Sunday I spent with my gorgeous husband (because I am married you know - well, civil partnership) who helped me go through my lines for my audition today for a feature film. Did I mention? Oh, I didn't? I'll let you know how it all goes.

Gotta go now, I need to look at my script one more time. I'll come back to you as soon as I can, and I'll fill you in (not literally) about my other commitments this week, like my shoot for a two double-pages spread in Heat magazine, the Alan Titchmarsh Show, Celebrity Juice, and my many radio interviews.

Who would have thought it? So much interest in a 40 year old, well-toned may I add, homosexual! What a wonderful world we live in!

xxx