Skip to main content

Big Brother, Rula Lenska and Me

I usually keep my mobile switched off during weekdays; only switching it on after work and at week-ends. Last night when I turned the think on, I had a voice mail from Big Brother. Well from one of the researchers on Celebrity Big Brother's Little Brother (BBLB) anyway.

The 'mad polish countess', Rula LenskaAs some of my readers will be aware, Rula Lenska was hosting the Christmas show of the London Gay Men's Chorus in December. This apparently is the reason why she then got invited to enter the Big Brother House. She was very enthusiastic about our show (she was taking pictures of us backstage with her disposable camera) and she actually joined in the fun; singing and dancing with us. This very much engraciated her with the boys and when she got in the House, there were calls in the Chorus to get out there when she is evicted to support her. As the person in charge of marketing for the Chorus, I contacted the producers of the show to offer the Chorus. Someone from the Chorus managed to find contacts. They passes us on to BBLB and it looks now that we will be on air tomorrow morning (Friday) at 8am as Rula got nominated for eviction last night. I am waiting for another phone call for confirmation of this.

If this goes ahead, we will probably need to be at the studio for 6am, in time for a rehearsal before facing the cameras and the lovely Dermot O'Leary (who, knowledgeable rumour has it, is one of us...) at 8am. Thankfully, because the studio is somewhere in the sticks, we will be chauffeured there (how the other half lives!). The bonus to all this, of course, is some exposure on national TV for the Chorus: not to be sniffed at.

More to come soon, I expect...

Tags: , , , , , , , .
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Please leave your comment here. Note that comments are moderated and only those in French or in English will be published. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog and to leave a thought.

Popular posts from this blog

A Short History of the Elephant and Castle and Its Name

Last night I attended a lecture by local historian Stephen Humphrey who discussed the general history of the Elephant & Castle, focussing more particularly on what he called its heyday (between 1850 and 1940). This is part of a week-long art project ( The Elephant Project ) hosted in an empty unit on the first floor of the infamous shopping centre, aiming to chart some of the changes currently happening to the area. When an historian starts talking about the Elephant and Castle, there is one subject he can not possibly avoid, even if he wanted to. Indeed my unsuspecting announcement on Facebook that I was attending such talk prompted a few people to ask the dreaded question: Where does the name of the area come from, for realz? Panoramic view of the Elephant and Castle around 1960/61. Those of us less badly informed than the rest have long discarded the theory that the name comes from the linguistic deformation of "Infanta de Castille", a name which would have become at...
19 comments
Read more

Welcome to Towleroad Readers

On Wednesday, Towleroad , the top gay blog, who win all the awards, were kind enough to link to and quote from my post on Football and Homophobia . This has generated quite a bit a traffic in this otherwise desolate region of the blogosphere. So much so that Wednesday was my highest day ever with 132 hits (previous one was 97), this week is already my highest ever with 317 hits so far (previous one was 287) and this month is the highest month ever with already 865 hits (previous one, last month, was 739, thanks to the posts on the Danish cartoons). So thank you again to Towleroad and welcome to their readers. I hope they like what they see and will be back from time to time.
Post a Comment
Read more

For the Living Left Behind - Frieda Hughes

No one dead who loved you  Would wish your future years dismembered  Against the rocks of their departure.  They would not sentence you to the guilt of betrayal  For any moment they weren’t uppermost in your mind  Nor would they wish you whittled down like a stick  To pick the stony teeth in the open mouth of abject misery,  Daily, until you are nothing left.  No one dead who loved you  Would want your still-breathing carcass  To be lost in the wilderness  That spans the two worlds of the living and the dead,  Where you are neither dead nor living.  They would not applaud your misery,  But would weep to watch their loss  Made pointless by the waste of you.  The dead become a part of us; our skin, our bones, our thinking;  Their existence is continuous in us  And the best we do in everything  As we move on from the moment of their passing.  Step back from the graveside where nothing flower...
Post a Comment
Read more