by Gwendoline Riley
Review written by Patrick Hussey.
When I first saw a Gwendoline Riley book in May 2002 I had been graduated for a year and was working in a bookshop. It was an rotten job with an Aspergic manager, the type who kept dropping tenners and then smiling when I handed them back. The staff were all older and had a sort of lost stink. Nice but lost. I tried to ignore them as much as possible and hid in the staff room reading.
Curently my favourite online videos - currently running at 7 episodes of roughly 5mins a go covering the wide subject matter of masterbation, homosexuality, the 'first time' and many more, its all toung in cheek paradoy of those painfully bad videos we were all made to watch at school. all round good stuff - subscribe in Itunes for your biweekly fix of sex advice
Part 1: Croatia and the Garden Festival
By Michael Heap, our Al Jazeera man from the desert.
Croatia is a country with a lot of history, a lot of recent history. 20 years ago it was communist as part of Yugoslavia. 15 years ago it was in the midst of a bitter and costly war with Serbia the so called 'Domovinski Rat' homeland war– often shortened to just 'Rat' war. I don’t want this to turn into a history lesson but suffice to say the memory is an intrinsic part from the young peoples childhood. It was bloody, with just over 10,000 dead and 37,000 seriously wounded.
Happy Ramadan-Kareem is the greeting that resounds through the hallways and malls that surround me this week in Doha, Qatar. – it’s a mixed feeling.
Ramadan is a month long lunar event (one that rotates month by month through the year) it marks the anniversary of several important Islamic events – the revealing of the koran to Muhammad by Gabriel, The battle of Badr (between Mecca & Medina). The Five Pillars of Islam are celebrated; the most common one is fasting.
Venice Film Festival: it’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.
Last year I used to sleep four hours per night. I finished writing my reviews at 3am, slept like a baby until 7am when the sun hit my sofa bed and I had no choice but to wake up and get ready for another day of hard work. This time around I don’t even have a sofa bed. But I don’t care, because going to the Venice Film Festival is always great fun and the average quality of the film is always damn good.
Day 1 - I DONT DO TRAINS!
First stop, Manchester! After a horrid 10am start, a bad sandwich from Upper Crust and a journey from hell sitting next to Super Nanny and her newest recruits - I arrived. I'm currently making a new film with Daniel Liddington and I'm here for the test shoot before I run up to the fringe.
The clock ticks past 11pm (local time) a I write this, sat at my desk in the deserted studios of one of the worlds more controversial news channels, I sit and think of my previous life – that of Bon Vivant, Raconteur, micro philanthropist, club impresario, and question my reason for living in the desert?
When I was a little girl my sisters and I had a 50-something babysitter called Jean who looked exactly like her yappy Yorkshire terrier. Luckily after three games of obligatory dominos she was a soft touch and let us stay up to watch Bond films which with a start time of 9pm finished way past my bedtime.