Is he baking bread in his Butt Cheeks?

Whatever the hell he's doing, I don't like it one little bit!

I Love Your Smell!

I have a weakness for one of the strangest things. It's aftershave. I can fall in love with a 4ft acne inflicted dork if he's wearing the right aftershave. I say the right aftershave because not every scent floats my boat. I don't care for musky animal smells. They remind me of my dad's ex-friend Lloyd who used to try to talk to me with his hands and invade my personal space to the point of talking to me almost nose-to-nose. Lloyd always smelt of musk, cigarettes and alcohol. I remember Lloyd used to wear Cuban heels and one Saturday night, I saw him from my bedroom window being noisily ejected from our house. As my dad was man-handling him, Lloyd caught his Cuban heel on our gate at the front door and fell over. I can still remember laughing and laughing until belly was in knots.

Anyway, going back to the subject of "regular" aftershave and not the musky stuff, the smell of aftershave moves me.

I went to breakfast at work the other morning with a guy from accounts. He thinks about life in the bland shade of grey and numbers. He's the complete opposite of the kind of person I can easily get along with, but every time I walk past him, he leaves the most gorgeous smell of Boss Aftershave hanging in the air. I literally go mmmmmmmmmmm!!!!! I know when he's been in the corridor, the lift or at the vending machine. If I could just put Idris Elba's head on his shoulders, the whole thing could work.

I even purchase aftershave for my own use. I know sometimes guys think I'm chatting them up when I ask them what scent they're wearing, but it's nothing to do with trying to "make friends", it's everything to do with me trying to satisfy my need and to make that scent mine.

Judge Judy: A Very Unlikely Friendship... Not Impossible, but Unlikely!

"When I grow up, I want to be married". One of the many dumb replies made by the Defendant.

Patti LaBelle should be ASHAMED of herself!

You're not supposed to look like this at 65. I mean really! It's an offence.

What the hell does Patti think she's doing? Jesus, I didn't even look this good on my 30th birthday.

And this is no old photograph, the photo was taken THIS MONTH, not in 1979!

It shows Patti LaBelle performing at the NAACP New York State Conference Centennial Celebration. Patti LaBelle said she's 65 "years young," she's "diabetic, menopausal, and divorced" and going strong!!

Don't mind me and my negative talk, I actually admire Patti and when I get to 65, I hope I'm able to say to all the boys "voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir" just like Patti did when she sang Lady Marmalade!

To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health...

...blah, blah, blah!!!

Now let's get the party started.



If you'd like to see another Wedding Dance, click here!

Pull the other one, it's got bells on!

Well "pull the other one... " is a well known phrase for people who are attempting to take the living p*** out of you! On this occasion, this is something I have no desire to do right now.

I'm here to tell you about my trip to my local Metro Supermarket this morning. I popped in there quickly to buy a few groceries. It was very early in the morning and the Supermarket is normally deserted at this time. While browsing, I heard the sound of a loud bell. When I laid eyes on where the bell sounds were coming from, I was surprised to see a little boy zipping along the isles with what looked like a cat collar with a bell around his neck.

He ran past me and I had to step back a few paces and then I immediately came eye-to-eye with his mother.

The woman read my mind because I was thinking why's this little boy wearing a bell. She said to me "morning... Dylan wears a bell so that I don't loose him when he runs off. I don't like the idea of putting reigns on him, but he doesn't listen to me so when I put a bell on him, I can always find him". I said to her "OK", while thinking "...OK!..."

She then said "I saw the look of surprise on your face". I said again parrot-fashion "OK" and then smiled.

As you and I both know, my feeble OK, OK was fully loaded. I thought of so many things, it was too much to compute. For instance, I thought a bell? Was it wrong? Was it right? Was that really a cat's collar with a bell on it? Should I care?

Well Dylan seemed quite happy, running around with abandon and a cat-collar around his neck. But I guess it made me think wouldn't it be better for Dylan and his mother for Dylan to understand that there's a time to run around and there's a time to calmly walk next to your mother, especially when she's trying to shop and running around like you're in an Adventure Playground is not an option.

An August Thought

Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car!

Resembling Beyonce surely can't be the worst thing in the world!

In the past, Solange Knowles has stated that she gets a little tired of people asking her about Beyonce and making comparisons on the way the girls look.

She's fed up of people accusing her of cloning Beyonce so she's decided to take matters into her own hands. She's put an end to any further "boring" comparisons and questions about copying her sister's looks by cutting her hair.

Well I guess that's done the trick! There's no way on God's earth that anyone can now say she looks like Beyonce.

Maybe I would have gone for a red bob or a Rihanna Mohican myself; but each to their own.

What time do they serve breakfast?

Just two hours to go!

What did you think was gonna happen?

I'm no expert, but I don't think tasering a man carrying what you think might be some kind of combustible fuel is a good idea. Worst still, trying to put the fire out with your bare hands. From where I'm standing, it looks like somone's going to get hurt.

Australian, Ronald Mitchell was in a critical condition in hospital after a bit of impromptu tasering.

Police said they were responding to a complaint at a house when Mitchell ran outside carrying a cigarette lighter and a plastic bottle containing what they believed was fuel.

Allegedly, Ronald doused himself in petrol and refused to stop running towards the police, one officer Tasered him, police said.

Ronald was immediately engulfed in flames, but the officer threw him to the ground and smothered the blaze with his hands, the statement said.

Poor Ronald, that'll be a day he never forgets but I don't think running towards the police while doused in petrol while the officer's aiming a taser at your chest is a very good idea at all.

Some Slow Singing and Flower Bringing

I went to my parents house for dinner yesterday and when I arrived; my favourite Aunt Patsy was midflow in conversation with my mum. They were morbidly talking about funerals and their wishes! I’m not sure I was quite ready to hear that my mum wants to be buried in a casket full of sunflowers - which so happen to be my favourite flowers!!

Great... considering I woke up in pain as if I were heading for Swine Flu. Even when I sneeze I think it’s Swine Flu! I might have to grab the sunflower casket off my mum if I’m not careful.

Anyway, my Aunt Patsy was saying that she wanted her funeral to be a happy occasion. She wants her mourners wearing bright colours and instead of crying, celebrating.

Well I told my mum that I positively, definitely didn’t want a celebration of my life with ragga, UK garage, R&B and hip-hop. I don’t want anyone doing the ‘Gully Creeper’ at my funeral! I don’t want fun and enjoyment and I certainly don’t want any singing and dancing – basically, nothing resembling a party.

My mum said well it’s not up to you!

I said to my mum, I've not asked for many things in life, but I do ask for this in death. Please mourn my passing. I want you all dressed in black and for a month thereafter, you need to be wearing black armbands. Yes, just for a month and then afterwards you can do what you like. I want people to tell stories about me at the funeral that’s heart-wrenching enough to make the congregation weep. I don't want funny quips and jokes. I want all-out mourning. I want you saying how fab I was. Kind and thoughtful etc. I want a closed casket. I don’t want anyone staring at me with my hair done by a man in the mortuary – oh hell no! If Pauline my hairdresser does my hair, open my casket by all means! Also, I don't want anyone wearing summery dresses, or white suits or pastel colours - what a liberty. BLACK attire; end of story.

For goodness sake, everyone’s got the rest of their lives to wear bright clothes and rave. In fact, if I'm lucky enough to have a memorial on the first anniversary of my death, that's when you can be happy - if you must; and celebrate my life with laughter - if you must.

But when I die, show some respect and bawl your eyes out please!

The August Mayfield Diaries

THERE'S NOTHING QUITE LIKE HEARTBREAK

My mate Heather's off work. Sick to her stomach. Her heart's broken. She found out that her husband's been doing the nasty with another woman. Heather can't get out of bed and everyone at work understands her absence. There's not one woman and maybe a couple of men at the office who hasn't got their own very personal tale of their heart being ripped out of their chest while it was still beating with the news of infidelity.

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You're never too young...

...to have fun!

Love vs. Money

They say "love makes the world go round...

... and money
just helps
us enjoy
the ride!"

Is that so?

You decide.

It's Not Supposed to Hurt

I've been promising myself a massage for the longest time. Strangely enough, I overpaid one of my bills - yes OVERPAID. Can you believe it? The company sent me a cheque saying that I'd reached the end of my payments and in fact had overpaid for the month of June.

It wasn't very much. Just enough for a few personal treats. I decided to have a manicure, pedicure, waxing and a Thai massage.

I wanted to have the massage first so that I could be totally chilled for the rest of my appointments.

All was going very well at first although I didn't like the idea of both women talking over me very loudly in a language I couldn't understand. Paranoia comes into play when people are talking over you, you have your back to them, you're semi-naked and out-numbered. So already, I wasn't enjoying myself.

I then noticed that the massage was getting a little bit painful. I thought it was because I was tense, so I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax but the rough man-handling continued. I turned around and said to one of the the ladies, this hurts and I didn't want to feel pain, I wanted to feel relaxation. She snapped at me, "love hurts, don't be a baby"! I turned back around but I could feel my blood boiling. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Love hurts! What's love got to do with it?

As she pummelled my back I thought to myself do I tell her that it hurts again or should I just get up and go. Well I decided to do both. I shrugged her hands off and said OK, that's enough. You're not supposed to be hurting me. When I had this done in Thailand, I left the salon walking on air. This feels like punishment.

While I was dressing, the ladies were having a discussion and both were standing, looking a little shame faced when I emerged. I brushed past them, damn witches and went upstairs to reception. I said to the receptionist that it was horrible and painful and I'm not paying. She said oh, I'm sorry, what was the problem. I said EVERYTHING.

The receptionist said to me, well can we have our pedicure flip flops back? I said NO and stomped off down the road as frustrated as a pitpull in heat in their flippy flappy flip flops.

It's Raining... It's Pouring!

The weather in the UK has gone down hill recently. A few weeks ago, we were in the middle of a heatwave. Now I don't know whether to leave the house in gold batty riders or a floor length rain mac and Wellington boots.

"Taxi...!!"

An August Moment

Expecting the world to treat you fairly

because you're good

is like expecting the bull not to charge

because you're a vegetarian.

40's the new 30!

Oh Lord… it’s my birthday in less than a month and I’m not getting any younger or any prettier. Boooooo!!



Unfortunately, I’m getting a few pounds heavier but I'm very happy to say that I'm certainly getting wiser. I’m also learning the art of happiness even when I’m not…. well… happy!



Thankfully, I now realise patience is a fine art which is achieved with layers of maturity but I’m still finding it extremely difficult not to throw a temperamental fit and I still sometimes find myself in a high state of emotion when not much emotion’s called for!

As I get older, I like to use the term “…oh f*** it – it’s no biggie” which I think is a good thing. F*** it creates less stress. I could word it differently (i.e. minus profanity), but I wouldn’t be being me would I? And quite frankly, as time ticks along, I quite like being me.

Anyway, looking at some of these fabulous older women, I’m looking forward to adding another digit to my age, it’s all good.

I might not have a make-up artist like some of the wonderful women I’ve featured in their 40s, but my mirror mirror on the wall isn’t showing me anything that makes me jump back in horror – YET.

So I declare that 40 is the new 30.



Remind me to be this positive when I get to 50! If I do reach the 50 mark (if the Grim Reaper doesn't come and snatch me off the face of the earth), I really don't want to hear that Iman, Oprah and Angela Bassett are washing their face in Caviar. If that's the case, I'll be forced to get a second job which doesn't fit with my plans at all because I'm already planning to retire at 50.

More Money? More Problems!

Biggie sure knew what he was talking about when he said "more money, more problems"!

My student son just got a part-time job in Waitrose Supermarket. He's so happy because he can supplement his teenage life-style without coming with cap in hand to me begging for a few pence to buy a pattie or get a hair-cut! I'm very happy too. First, I'm happy because he's happy and feels proud and secondly, and you knew this was coming. More money for me!! I'm not going to take his money, but I'm not giving him any of mine either.

Our one problem is this. He's a professional Vollyball player - he's been doing this for 6 years. The important cup-matches are on the weekend; his job is on the weekend.

What's more important?

So as The Notorious B.I.G. said, "more money, MORE PROBLEMS"!

...and if you don't know, now you know...

An August Thought

You know you're old

when you go to the chemist for

Nurofen and hydrocortisone,

not condoms and a pregnancy test!

Never judge a book by it’s cover!

Well shame... because today I did just that. I stepped out of my car and I saw the youth looking at me. When he started to walk towards me; I felt nervous. The young man was dressed casually; he was about 18 years old. Around 5ft 10 with fair hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a grey hoodie, a yellow t-shirt, baseball cap, baggy jeans and trainers. He was also listening to headphones, possibly an iPod because the earphones were white, a diamond stud in his ear and a ring on the middle finger of his left hand.

Why do I know all this about his appearance? I took a good look just in case I needed to describe my attacker to the police. My attacker to the police indeed? It was broad daylight... 9 o’clock in the morning. I’m not saying attacks don’t happen in the morning, but the street was busy and he would have had a hard job running anywhere without bumping into the swarm of people going to work.

The young man walked up to me and said excuse me, do you know where Stonehouse Street is please. I gave him directions and he said thank you, smiled and walked down the road.

I must be getting old to be making such narrow-minded judgements about our youth! Either that or I’m a big fat hypocrite.

When I’m preaching love and unity and telling people “never judge a book by its cover”, you have every right to cough out the words bullsh*t! I say this with a heavy heart.

Is it a boy or a girl?

This is not what you want to hear when someone’s peering into your pushchair. Especially if you’ve done everything in your power to make sure that the whole world knows that your lovely little bundle of joy is a girl. You’ve put her in a pink dress, pink booties, you’ve pierced her ears and you’ve stuck a pink head-band on her head. The infant in question has no hair, so the pink head-band makes it very clear that you’re dealing with a girl here.

I suffered the excruciating embarrassment yesterday when I bumped into my friend while I was out with my brother. My friend (let’s just call her Janice) has a baby girl and unfortunately Janice’s baby doesn’t resemble her at all – Janice is very pretty. The little mite looks the spitting image of her father who... how do I say this? He’s far more charming than he is good looking.

So my brother bends over the pushchair and says aaahhh, is it a boy or a girl? Well Jesus come here right now and kill me! I gave him the biggest nudge in the ribs I could manage without drawing too much attention to the baby’s mother but when my brother shouted at me “what”, I think we were busted.

Before Janice could say anything, I said to my brother, it’s a girl silly, why would you put a boy in a pink dress? My brother then said, aaahhh, isn’t she cute! At this point, I said OK, come on, let’s go now.

I know my brother’s a jack-arse because when we walked away, he said "I thought Janice was going to say PENNY FOR THE GUY"!

A Fitting Tribute

I watched the televised Michael Jackson tribute and memorial which took place at the Staples Centre in Los Angeles and thought it was very well done.

It was touching, happy, sad and just enough razzmatazz to remind us that he was a superstar in a superstar world with superstar friends and family.

Whatever anyone thinks about Michael Jackson, no one can deny that he will never be forgotten and he'll be sorely missed by those who genuinely loved him and his music.

The August Mayfield Diaries

Somebody Somewhere Hates You

I'm beginning to understand that if somebody out there doesn't hate your guts, then you're not doing anything worthwhile!

I put some new summery flowers in my flower box on my window sill and my neighbour hates me. She must think I didn't understand the look on her face which said "who the frig does she think she is... that overblown show off bitch. With her damn flowery flowers. Making everyone sneeze and bringing the neighbourhood a whole swarm of bees. Stupid show off bitch"!

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Well it made me laugh!

When I die, I want to go peacefully like my Grandfather did, in his sleep - not screaming, like the passengers in his car.

The Maxi Dress

What a beautiful idea! A long flowing feminine dress for all shapes and sizes.

When I was a little girl in the 70s, I remember my mum and dad were getting ready to go to a party and my mum came down the stairs with the biggest Diana Ross & the Supremes hair. She was also wearing the most beautiful floaty maxi dress I'd ever seen. It was white with great big red flowers and she towered over my dad in platform heels! She looked stunning.



Twenty years later, I can dress in exactly the same way; maybe not as stunning as Mrs Mayfield was back then, but a close second.


I hope the maxi dress stays in fashion for a very long time. This is the first time in ages that I've seen a fashionable item which suits all ages, shapes and sizes without exception!

Don't forget expectant mothers. A pregnant woman can look like a vision of beauty and not a great big tent if she's wearing the right type of maxi dress. So you go for it girls!!

The August Mayfield Diaries

A Happy Sad Story

I decided to sit in the park yesterday because it was hot, I mean really hot from 8am in the morning until 10pm at night. I had a stack of bits to read so I made some picnic food and grabbed a carton of juice and off I went in search of a quiet place to sit in the common.

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Addicted to Coke!

Yes I am people... My name is August Mayfield and I'm a Coke Addict!

Hold up, hold up, stop right there - don't get the wrong idea. I'm addicted to coca cola. Dare you not imagine cocaine. The Devil's dandruff! Me? Oh no.

It's with a heavy heart that I say this because I've been told that if I don't stop drinking coca cola, all of my teeth are going to fall out. But I love coke, it makes me happy!

My dentist, Doctor Alex Salvatore said to me the reason why I have to charge you half of your monthly wages on this occasion is because you're ruining your teeth with excess sugar.

I told Dr Alex that I hardly take part in the sugar department. I assured him that I mostly eat 'good for you' food, I look after my health and brush my teeth twice a day, I floss and use mouth wash; what more does he want? Dr Alex then said do you drink tea and coffee with lots of sugar? I said Oh No, not me! But I did admit that my only weakness is the odd can of coke. He said OK, so how many cans of coke do you consume every week 'approximately'? Well I told him the truth, I only drink one can a day, some days three. Well this man grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and shook me hard and said WHAT?? I say the scruff of my neck and mention shaking, but I really mean he didn't grab me at all. I'm just translating the way he looked at me. He made me imagine that he grabbed me by the lapels and shook me hard. But what he said was "I advise you to lay off the coca cola and for the time being, just drink water. It will save you a lot of money and your teeth in the long run".

I'm vain enough to take this mans advice. After all he's a professional dentist and I really don't relish the idea of smiling with teeth the shade of tree bark. But I can't promise you that I'll be in the best of moods while this cold turkey's going on. I'm not looking forward to this lack of coke at all.

I might have to find me a new habit!