Morning, Noon and Night

Well I’m sprayed up and ready to go - Factor 30 all the way. I’m not burning in this mini heatwave like I did in the last one. Now, I don’t need to be a weather man (or wo-man) to tell ya this ain’t gonna last, so make the most of it. I’ve got my G-String to hand this week – picture to follow next week.

What’s been going on? There’s always something going on – it really is non-stop. But my life has always been non-stop, so it’s not really anything new for. And I’m like a chameleon; I can be whatever colour you want, for whatever occasion. And on Sunday I was pink and fluffy on the inside, sporting blue and white stripes on the outside, for my trip to Legally Blonde, which I treated my gorgeous husband to, as he hadn’t seen it. I had seen it of course, because I was there at opening night.

As you know, I’m not one to name drop, Emma (Bunton), Kylie (Minogue), Kate (Moss), Pixie (Lott) - she’s coming later, I’ll tell you all about Pixie – of course, I’m good friends with Sheridan (Smith) and Duncan (James). For those of you who don’t know, they are the stars of Legally Blonde, the musical. I like to keep a varied group of friends, from West End to Wembley – you know me, I don’t discriminate; from counts to council (I did say counts, didn’t I? I do know a few of the others as well, but hey.)

And what a show! I enjoyed it as much the second time as I did the first time round. Not just because, as I said, I’m good friends with people in it (Sheridan and Duncan). Ooh, I forgot to tell you - so, we’re sitting there, husband and me, and I always get an aisle seat because I have a bladder like a pea – I went to the loo four times in the first half. I’ve had my prostate checked, so it’s not that. You see, I’ve got private medical insurance, so when I go to the doctor’s I don’t bother with the GP, I just say send me private to a specialist. It costs me £800 a year – I know what you’re thinking, more money than sense, just because he’s famous. I’m a bit hesitant about using this word famous, remember last week I used it a bit too soon, it came back and kicked me right in the rear? Let’s see if I can keep it in for the rest of this blog. Keep what in, I hear you ask? The word ‘famous’.

My point about private medical insurance is I’ve always had it. I believe it’s an investment in my hypochondria, which I’ve had from a very young age, due to Pat, my mum. She would take us all to the doctor’s, me and my three sisters that is, when only one of us was ill. I mean, they say nature or nurture about being gay, well at twelve when I went to the doctor’s with my three sisters - as we always did, to get diagnosed for something we didn’t have but my mum was convinced we had – I thought I had ovaries and a womb and was going to start my period. Imagine that at twelve, when my balls had only just dropped, and I was firing blanks but still giving it a good go.

Hold on, it’s Caleb calling me. I’ve mentioned Caleb before haven’t I? Haven’t I? He’s my work colleague. Hold on a second, I just need to see what he wants… I’m back, sorry about that. Oh, actually, thank Kylie (not God anymore) he did stop me! I’ve totally digressed here, haven’t I, into my medical history, which is none of your business.

Back to Legally Blonde - in between the toilet breaks, can you believe it, I had them queuing down the aisles for autographs. I felt quite bad, signing across Sheridan’s picture on a £7 programme, but I had no choice; I didn’t have any photographs from Snappy Snaps on me – why would I?

Amazing, amazing, amazing! Well worth the money, Legally Blonde is a real good family show – Duncan is wonderful, charming and handsome, but the star of the show is Sheridan. She is just so believable; apart from having a great voice (and great tits as well, as you can see here, I do know at first hand).



Her acting is just award-worthy. If she doesn’t get one for her performance then I’m taking musical theatre out of my vocabulary.

So that was Sunday - Monday, nothing to report, I didn’t leave the house all day. It was a bank holiday, that’s what you do, isn’t it? You either spend the day with your family or do nothing, so it was nothing for me – I didn’t even scrape my tongue or floss my teeth. I know it’s hard to believe.

On Tuesday I couldn’t wait to get back to Pineapple. I bumped into Pixie (Lott), who was rehearsing for her performance on Britain’s Got Talent on Wednesday, where I was also going to be doing Britain’s Got More Talent.

Debbie (Moore) had arrived back from France, it was great to see her, as always, and catch up. Then we had a lovely dinner in the evening to celebrate her birthday, at The Ivy, of course.



Just to let you all know, this isn’t the same top that I wore to Legally Blonde on Sunday, this is short sleeved, and £2.50 from H&M.

Wednesday, I got picked up at 5.30 to get to Wembley, where they film Britain’s Got Talent and Britain’s Got More Talent. Come dressed, they said, so I did. They didn’t tell me I was going to watch the show in some badly decorated room sitting on a brown draylon and pleather sofa (if you could even call it a sofa).



By the time I got to do BGMT I was screwed up like a bit of old rag, and it wasn’t a cheap shirt, it was All Saints, which is much more expensive than Top Man (that I still haven’t got anything free from). But I did get to meet some of the contestants, which was fun.

The dance group Starburst were very sweet, and were asked who their idol was and who they would most aspire to be like – and they said me! Oh, how sweet! I didn’t like to shatter their dreams and tell them they’ve got no chance – not unless they’ve all got a mum like mine, and they’re made to believe they’ve got body parts they haven’t got, if you know what I mean. I don’t think they’re going to grow up to be gay men with loose legs and a lisp.



Anymahoot! I also met the drag artist who thought he was Madonna. Darling, he needed to think again, and again, and again. I don’t know about hung up, but he looked as if he had been dug up.



Oh, I forgot to tell you, apart from the brown draylon and pleather sofa that I had to sit on for four hours, screwing up my expensive shirt (from All Saints – maybe they’ll give me something free – All Saints All Saints All Saints). When I first arrived, the VIP area for the BGMT guests was the back end of a conservatory with some nasty blue crushed velvet curtains draped everywhere and over what I’m sure was a piss-stained sofa, I could smell it. I think they must hold the OAPs pottery class there or something, one day a week, in the ‘flu season - one cough for incontinence.

What I’m trying to get across to you guys is that it’s not glamorous, it’s work. I had a gay rosé, a bowl of potato wedges, cottage pie and peas - just how I like it, in fact.

I don’t like it all posh and la de da – I could have done without the smell of old piss. I would have Febreezed it myself, you know the spray one you can get now? I love it. (Ooh, Febreeze commercial?) I know JedWard have just done the Shake’n’Vac - they were there too. They did make me laugh, they are funny - not intentionally funny, of course.



I didn’t get out of there until midnight, and it was an early start for Lorraine Kelly. But it wasn’t Lorraine at all, it was my gorgeous Emma (Bunton), standing in for her for a week. So, of course, I got myself on. I did beauty tips, well, my beauty tips – it was all about the olive oil and eyelash curlers, you all know - I don’t need to go into detail with you lot, do I?



Then we joined Jade (Jones) in the kitchen, who did an amazing cous cous, honestly, it tasted so good, with salmon, which I didn’t go near, I don’t like fish. We had a real laugh, it was really good fun. I think I do worry the producers, of most of these shows I go on actually, I don’t know why. But hey, what can I say? It is all about fun, fun, fun, isn’t it?

It was an early night for me Thursday, what with a late one Wednesday night, after BGMT, and an early one Thursday at GMTV, with Lorraine who wasn’t Lorraine, it was Emma. Even I, with boundless energy, need to recharge. And here we are today, and what a day - the sun is shining, again.

Ooh, and while I’m on about the Sun, I just want to let Gordon know that I’m all signed up; I did it yesterday about 6 o’clock. And you can call me Louise whenever you like, Gordon. I’m taking it as a sign of affection; I’m hoping it is, because I think I’m getting a soft spot for you.

I’m going to stop there, I’m married – such a cute smile he’s got, isn’t it, Gordon, that is? You can smell his freshness – it’s like Febreeze! (I’m still trying to work on that commercial idea.)

Oh, and one other thing, Top Man and All Saints, any freebies, just contact my agent.

I’m off to the sun, and I don’t mean Gordon.

Arrivederci xxx

Hot Stuff – My Ass!

Well, it’s not only me that’s hot stuff apparently – Not! What weather we had last weekend! What with me only having a window box – I know I’m flexible and can contort, but not even I can squeeze in between a geranium and a pansy in a window box 40cm x 20cm. Not that I haven’t tried.

So it was straight down to Essex for me. My dad had cut the grass, mum had cleaned the garden furniture, paddling pool out, and me in my Speedos, where I left you last week, do you remember? I was going to try them on. And, yes, they fitted a treat, the red ones I went for. Which is the same colour I ended up, after thinking one hour in the sun wouldn’t hurt; not taking into account the conifer trees on one side and the creosoted fence on the other, hanging baskets and all, creating a wind barrier, with sun rays of 28 degrees, and with limited ozone. I thought I wouldn’t burn, considering I’ve only just got back from Lanzarote, with a good base tan. Well I haven’t only just got back actually, it was a good month ago. But I thought I’d be fine without my Factor 30, but, like I say, we’re all the same. Celebrity or not, we all burn!

But the severity of what I’d inflicted on myself became apparent that evening, when I could have stopped traffic with the colour of my skin. It was radiant red! You know when you feel like you have the Ready Brek glow around you, you’re that hot?

And hot is exactly what I wanted to be, but not literally red hot and looking like a burning coal, and I don’t mean Cheryl. I wanted to look hot for the first film premiere that I was going to attend, one of the hottest tickets in town, apparently very exclusive, not open to any old Tom, Dick or whosoever. And I’ve got two tickets! Na na na na na na! What to wear? What do you wear to Sex and the City? Now, I know it’s all about the girls, I know that, but the closest to is a gay, and God knows, I’m gay! Not only He knows – the whole bloody nation!

Anymahoot, wardrob - straight back to Top Man, still nothing for free, only 15% discount. I mean, really, there’s a limit, isn’t there? I’ll have a word with Philip. Green, that is, I’m sure he’d be horrified to think that someone like me would be modelling his wares with such finesse and flair without even a complimentary handkerchief on offer. Anyway, I’m not going to go on about Top Man not giving me anything, and me constantly in their clothes, for only 15% discount. Photos to follow of this week’s outfit, which I’m not sorry to say, wasn’t a full Top Man ensemble; it was married with a Zara jacket, and a wonderful Simeon Farrar designer, one-off tee shirt, which was totally free. I think this may be in the world-wide press – thanks Simeon. And, yes, I’d love to look at your new collection. I just couldn’t find a suitable tee shirt this time in Top Man.

Oh, I’ve lost where I am! Oh yes, Sex and the City. So, outfit sorted, off I went to my agent to collect my tickets. This is Tuesday, sorry. The premiere is on Thursday. I like to know I’ve got everything at hand; tickets and outfit. I’ve invited Jake, and Emma has also been invited. So, obviously, we’ll be going with her - iIt’s always good to turn up with an A-lister. Right, deep breath for me, to get in the lift, five floors up, to my agent. I can’t wait to go through my outfit with him. Get out of the lift, had about 4 panic attacks from ground to fifth – I really don’t like being closed in, hence coming out of the closet at a very young age.

Hop, skipping and jumping, a high kick and a pirouette, straight into my agent's office. Tickets please darling! Tickets please darling! Tickets! Why are you looking at me like that? This is my agent’s assistant, looking at me with an expression of panic on his face. Now, I know I haven’t missed any appointments, I was no longer flashing danger like a bleacher beacon, and I know for a fact that I don’t have any nasal hair hanging. So what can it be, I ask? Pray tell?

Er, er, er, er, er, I’m really sorry mate, I’m trying me hardest, tried all me contacts, but they’re really hard to come by.

What’s really hard to come by, I ask? It didn’t enter my head that the next word to splurge out of his mouth would be ‘Tickets!’ Well, I lost the wind beneath my wings; that was a wonderful song by Bette, wasn’t it? The song may have been wonderful, but this wasn’t. I’d just come crashing down to earth with an almighty thud, after painting myself in calamine lotion for four days, braving two high street stores in the lunchtime rush, and waited in for a recorded delivery package with designer t-shirts – all gone to plan. I was now being told, one and three quarter days before the premiere, that they could not secure my t-t-t-t-tickets! I’m calm.

Ish. I can feel the Readybrek glow coming back. I really thought I could start to use the word Celebrity. Obviously not! Not in association with my name, not quite yet. ‘I’ll keep trying mate.’

At the grand young age of 41, if you want things doing, just do them yourself. Don’t rely on others, when you can rely on pop star, tv presenter, actress, best friend, VIP pass holder, my darling friend Emma Bunton. She’s the first person on my speed dial – ring ring, ring ring, ring ring – come on darling, answer! Yes! ‘Daaaaarling, you know I thought I was a celebrity for a moment. Well, we all did, didn’t we? Anyway, that’s not what is important.’ Before I could fart in a bottle and think I could sell it, she was straight back with a ticket, and not only a ticket to the film, but to the party afterwards at Kensington Palace at the Orangerie.

Relief! Not at going to the film or the party, who cares? (I do!) It’s just the fact that I hadn’t wasted money on an outfit that I was going to wear. I know you’re probably thinking, well, you could have worn it somewhere else, but no, I couldn’t. This was for this particular premiere. I don’t know if it’s the gay gene, but when I’ve got an outfit for an occasion, it’s for that occasion and that occasion only.

It’s Thursday, 3.30 pm, Emma calls, she’s booked the penthouse at a hotel for us to get ready for the premiere. I’m saying us, it was for her, I just got in on the action. Not only did I get in on the action, while she was having her hair done I got a make-up artist to give me some guy-liner and some shine. Not that I don’t shine enough. The great thing is, the hotel was in Leicester Square, and I could see all the crowds gathering, the red carpet being laid and hovered, hear the crowd screaming – it’s really quite exciting.

We were ready to be picked up by Emma’s car, blacked out windows and all, and we were driven around to the celebrity VIP entrance. As we were about to turn in, the bloody black cab in front of us wouldn’t move. Who got out of the cab? One of the Geldof girls - she tried to walk up the red carpet, but they wouldn’t let her. She didn’t have the right credentials, or ticket, or pass, or whatever you need when you’re not in a car with a pop star, tv presenter, mother and model. And Jake Canuso. Anyway, we passed through and I got out first. Louie, Louie! Oh shit! How strange; all these people wanting a bit of me. I may be small and well formed, but I made sure there was enough to go around. Obviously they were screaming for Emma too, who was wonderful and such a pro, taking me along with her as we signed autographs and had our picture taken.

The red carpet was like doing one round of a running track, right around Leicester Square it went. GMTV, Heart Radio, BBC News, and then there was the camera runway where all the photographers stand and flash and flash and flash. I started at one end with Emma and finished up at the other end with Emma or Kylie. I didn’t feel as if I needed to see the film after that, I was happy as Larry. But I did, and I must admit, I’m sorry, I didn’t enjoy it as much as SATC 1. I’m not going to go into the reasons why, you can all make up your own minds.

We all had great fun at the party; I did approach Big to ask if I could have a photo with him, which I thought would be great to share with you all, but he ended up just being a big wanker. His reply was ‘Oh no, I don’t do photos’. Well, listen love, I wouldn’t ask you if you were in a restaurant eating your food, or if I passed you in the street, but you were at the after show party of a film you were in, so I would consider that as having your work hat on. That’s how I would perceive it if it was the premiere of my film. It wasn’t even the premiere of my film (yet) and I was posing for pictures. And I didn’t see him looking hot with Kylie!

And that was it. Until the next time I’m on fire!

xx

Forty One and Fabulous!

And why wouldn't it be? The sun is out, the daffodils are blooming, and I feel more radiant than ever! And why? Because I'm worth it! Move over Cheryl - if L'Oréal can have a Geordie, babe, they can have a poof with a lisp! If anyone from L'Oréal is reading, feel free to get in touch, I look great with a weave too!

No, but really, what a glorious day I have woken up to! My life is already perfect, as I tweeted last night - what more do you want? Health, happiness, and someone who loves you - I've got it all. But I suppose there's always more, isn't there? There's Kylie and her retweets to me, "Plus high kicks to die for!! hahaaa!!" Sorry, did I mention Kylie again? I must not stop doing that!

So, what am I doing on my special day, I hear you all asking? Well, it's work, work, work! I'm here at the studios 'til 12, then off to Grazia magazine to go through a few bits that we're doing together - I'll let you know when it's out. It's bound to be fabulous, isn't it? I mean, really! Then off to lunch at The Ivy with Debbie Moore, OBE - it's going to be burger and chips for me all the way. After, a bit of shopping, then deciding where I'm going on holiday - it's going to be lastminute.com for me, they always seem to have something great on offer.

I'm loving you and leaving you - I know this is a short blog, but Interflora have never had such a busy day! I must go and receive my boxes and bouquets, and honestly some things are turning up that, well... I thought it was a totem pole! I'll leave you to work that one out, but I don't think it's something you'd be dancing around. All I've got to say is it would take your breath away!

Oh, and also, how could I forget? You all know I'm big in the Sun, don't you, the people's paper, as I mentioned in one of my previous blogs? And I did say how difficult it was to read those big papers, you know the ones I mean, like the Observer and The Guardian? Like I said, they do take up a whole carriage on the train. Well, I'm sorry, I'm backtracking and rewinding on that one. It's amazing how comfortable those big papers can get when you're in them - The Observer magazine on Sunday, and The Guardian on Monday! It really does seem that I'm reaching out to the whole nation, doesn't it?

And what is my message? Live life to the full! Love yourself, and love those who love you. And I love you all.

Happy Birthday to me!




Love Louie xxx

What, Not Me?

Morning all! I've finally got five minutes! I'm flat out at the moment, what with the O2 show coming up on Friday. So, Absolute Radio was a blast! Iain Lee was very nice. He could be Jack you know, he's that tall, and I'd climb his beanstalk in a flash - and after ten minutes in the studio with me I think he would have been quite happy for me to do so.

I don't know what it is, I don't know what I've got, I don't know what I do with these boys, but their feminine side comes cascading out! It's no joke; after ten minutes with them I'm swimming in femininity! And if it wasn't for me pulling back and putting on my masculine side, I don't know what might happen. I think this is all in my head, but I'm just going with it!

So that was Friday. On Saturday I popped down to see Mum and Dad - they were having a photo shoot with Braintree and Witham Times; remember I told you about that in my last blog? It's local press, you've got to do it.

We went into town, me and Pat that is (my mum), because she wanted to go a new shop that has just opened. To them it's like our Selfridges on Oxford Street, but believe me it's not like our Selfridges at all, it's affordable if you're on benefits - just how I like it. So, it was the big opening and they had someone to cut the ribbon. Guess who? Go on, have a guess!

Let me tell you. When I was driving through town, because I have to do this to get to Pat and John's, I passed the Co-op, and next to the Co-op is an alley that goes into the centre of town. I saw a big queue of people going back to the fish and chip shop and I thought to myself, don't tell me Pat's got the word out that I'm coming home!

It's got to be for me, hasn't it? I can't think of anyone else from Braintree who's been hanging out with Kate Moss and been spoken about by Robbie Williams and Kylie Minogue. She did that on Twitter you know; she said 'All hail Louie Spence'. For a gay man, it's like being knighted. I should be calling myself Dame Louie after that, really, shouldn't I?

Then I thought, Ah! It’s most probably Stan Thorogood opening other DIY / builders’ merchants, and he's got cut down prices on plastic ponds and garden sheds. That will always create a crowd, and I'll tell you why. They're used as extra living space (the sheds that is, not the ponds). My nephew used to live in the garage at the bottom of the garden; it gets to a point where the council won't move you on anymore you know, no matter how big the family gets. And believe me they do like to breed in Braintree. That's why the garden sheds are popular - extra living space you see, it's very simple!

So, back to the big crowd by the Co-op; it wasn't for me at all! Pat hadn't got the word out. It was bloody Olly Murs, from X-Factor, muscling in on my home town! He's from Witham, a town five miles up the road. I suppose I'll let him have this one, it's fine. Anyway I'm far too busy to be opening shops, I just wanted a bit of quiet time with my mum and dad and my sisters.

I did create a bit of a storm though on entering this new store. I don't suppose it had anything to do with the fact that I was high kicking and back flipping and shouting ‘I’m here, anyone want a photo?' Not really, I didn't do high kicks and back flips. I just asked if anyone wanted a photo, but not to a great response. Maybe if I'd sung 'Twist and Shout' I might have got a bit more attention.

Sunday, at home with my gorgeous husband, and I cooked a lovely roast, compliments of M&S, all ready made. Early to rise Monday morning! Chris Moyles, Radio 1 - I think I've made it! Chris was excited to see me, I was excited to see him, and we all had fun. I'm sure all of you who listened would agree.

I was a bit unsure about Chris before I met him, because I've seen him with some people, he can be very hard. But, like I say, I've got that something, haven't I? I bring out their softer side, and he was an absolute teddy bear. I think I might even have a little Chris crush - that's a mouthful for me.



Tuesday (keep up with me), I got Keith Lemon in, doing a spectacular dance routine with me, which is going to be used for a VT on this Thursday's Celebrity Juice - of which I am on the panel. This is Tuesday morning. Tuesday afternoon, vroom vroom, vroom vroom vroom, I got the Carr in.



Yes, girls and gays, THE Alan Carr parked up in my penthouse. That's Studio 79 - we call it the penthouse because it's at the top of the building. We had a quick chat for More magazine, slipped him into some pink legwarmers, quick photoshoot, tour around the building and sent him on his way. You can only imagine the innuendos flying back and forth between us. Honestly, it wasn't camp at all!

So here I am, Wednesday morning. I'm off to go and do a very rough run of the show. You know the show? I have mentioned it, haven't I - The O2? I know, it's a worry every time I mention it, it's got to that point now where I get that loose sort of feeling in my stomach, and I can only relieve the anxiety when I fart! Ooh, that's me off; I shouldn't have had the lentils last night, always leaves the air a bit thick after a good old fart.

Right, I can't breathe now. Speak soon; it may not be until after the O2, I don't know!

Ta ra xx