Friday, February 20, 2009
Julie Burchill's foot is still attached to leg
Met up with the goddess Julie Burchill and a few others last night for a drink at One Aldwych. Her foot is repairing nicely (not amputated as certain dead tree amateur hacks claimed) and she's just sold a short story to the the Sunday Times Magazine. Cathy Galvin (I think the dep ed) has introduced fiction which is great: might even make me read the paper again. "I'm not spiritual, I'm religious," Burch told me. I said I'm the other way round, as I am in lots of respects. Love to my two new young friends, the hairdresser and his PR girlfriend. I predicted they would live in New York after they told me that's what they wanted. I must be psychic.
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9 comments:
I was there the night before. She's on great form.
I want to be amptated too. But more importantly, I think Julie Burchill is an interesting read. I need an editor too, but where are they to be found in this period of total voidurriati?!
Be your own my dear. It's the only way. Employment is overrated.
I've always worshipped Burchill ever since NME days, I'd love to think she reads this blog so she can read this. Sugar Rush proved she has gained as a writer, I'm not surprised she's breaking into short stories. She's just so sharp. It's wonderful to hear that her foot is healing.
Andy Warhol died 22 years ago tomorrow. Kneel, ye!
Tell me Madame Arcati,is Julie Birchill still married to Cosmo Landesman ?. I remember meeting Fran Landesman once, Cosmo's mum. A truly wonderful lady of great intelligence which it seems was passed down to her children, Miles and Cosmo.
Oh no, they divorced yonks ago. Julie then had a long relationship with a Raven and then married her brother, a poppet.
I've been thinking recently of the vowel sounds ravens make: they're flatter than naturists may have led us to think.
Is Cosmo Landesman the one who hates every film he sees as a point of honour?
Cosmo dislikes a lot because he won't sit thru the movie, he walks out most of the time. Presumably bored or appalled. He's also a scruff and requires a haircut, though sarrtorial standards of film critics are quite grim. The shoes! But Dr Mark Kermode still has his quiff, thinning.
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