not welcome

I don’t even know where to start with this

Deep breath….

Here we go

I left Chicago Sunday night to fly into London for some shows

Uneventful flight made more pleasant by the old lady next to me that smelt like vanilla

Yum

Got off the plane & lined up for immigration

That’s the part where they check your paperwork, if you have any – and stamp your passport

Then send you on your way

I’ve done it more times than I can remember

Piece of piss really

Ummm…yeah….not this time

Apparently I didn’t have sufficient paperwork with me

Then the questions started

What did I do? Was I going to be earning money? What name did I perform under? Why do I travel to the UK so often?

Then I was asked to ‘take a seat’ while the man went away to do fuck knows what

He came back about 10 minutes later with printouts from my website

Pages of it

And yeah, he was holding ALL the BAD PENIS TATTOO THURSDAY pics too

Oh, joy

Then he asked me to come with him as they ‘weren’t satisfied with my reasons for entering the country’

They took my mugshot

I tried to be all cute & pouty like Lindsay & Paris

But I’m pretty sure I ended up giving him my best ‘fuck this shit’ face

Then I was asked to sign some forms

One of them stated that, “…if I was detained for more than 8 days, I had the right to appeal”

EIGHT FUCKING DAYS?

So yeah,  I said I wouldn’t sign that one

He said I had to

I said no I didn’t

I was earning browny points left, right & fucking centre with this dude

He asked me to follow him and proceeded to tell me that, where he was taking me wasn’t really that pleasant, and a little uncomfortable – but it was where any detainees had to be held and I wouldn’t be there for long

A detainee?

Isn’t that someone that’s trying to do something illegal? Like immigrate illegally or smuggle drugs

Neither of which I was trying to do

Then he and another man took all my stuff & searched me

They took my phone, my bag, my water, my computer my TWIZZLERS, and a little piece of my dignity

I wasn’t allowed to have anything with me

This day was turning to shit at a rapid pace

So I was put in a room with 8 other people

Make that 8 men

That didn’t appear to speak english (to me anyway)

And spent most of their time on the public phone, praying to Allah, or giving me filthy looks

Oh yeah, the public phone?  I asked for change so that I could use it to make a call, and was told there wasn’t any

All the coins had been given to my fellow inmates

My roomies were fucktards

At least I didn’t have to worry about becoming anyone’s prison bitch – I was very happy to not be their type

A lady came & got me for an interview

Yeah, I thought – a woman – she’ll be nicer and we’ll get this shit sorted

Oh, how wrong I was

Immigration lady had herself a raging case of PMS – or maybe she was just born a bitch

I was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt

She wanted to know was I married, how many kids, what did my husband do, why were there penis’ on my website?

It was pretty much the suckiest interview ever

Then she took me back to the room from hell – where my 8 buds were so happy so see me

Like, look up from their Korans – spit on the floor, kind of happy

So as they prayed, I sang “God Bless All the Little Children” as loud as I could

And it may come as a shock, but I couldn’t remember the the words

So I belted out an inspired (if I do say so myself) version of D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F

And I know, maybe this post is taking on a racist tone

But you know what?

I wasn’t given a prayer mate

So what if I don’t pray? I totally could have done some yoga

They were given toiletry bags, with toothpaste etc

I wasn’t

But I’m taking that as a compliment

Because I smelt like a bed of roses and didn’t need one – and they smelt like moldy goats

Soooooo

Seven hours and six more interviews later

That’s right, SEVEN FUCKING HOURS

I was deemed unwelcome and refused entry

Even as I type that I can’t quite believe it

Are you fucking kidding me?

When I work in the UK, I put money INTO the economy

Granted, it’s not a squillion dollars

But fuck – I pay taxes

And this time they tell me I require different paperwork – as it’s a ‘grey area’ and subject to interpretation

Really? I would expect that immigration issues should be pretty black & white

And not subject to the whims & moods of the person that happens to be working the day I enter the country

So it could have gone either way for me

As I’m typing this from my office in Chicago, I think you all know which way it DID end up going for me

I was escorted through London airport by 3 immigration officers

All the way onto the plane

I asked to stop to go to the toilet

They said no

I asked to stop so I could buy a bottle of water

They said no

Yesterday was officially one of the most ball-sucking days I have ever had

And I appreciate there are so many people out there that have it worse

But I’m pissed

I’m pissed that I was treated like a fucking criminal, fingerprinted and all

I’m pissed that my 8 buddies were ALL permitted to stay in the country

And I’m really pissed that the shows had to be cancelled

I’m sorry to all of you that were coming out to see me

Starting today, I am going to try to reschedule them, and also add in some extra places

I guess that’s a good thing, yeah?

I’m also going to make sure I have MORE than enough paperwork to satisfy the ‘powers that be’ next time I head to the UK

Passport, work visas, itinerary, birth certificate, baby album, grocery shopping list, love letters, school report cards

You name it, I’ll fucking have it

I’m bummed I’m not going to get to catch up with some of my buds that were coming to the shows

I’ll be back though, I promise

I just need to make sure they let me in next time

Anyone know where I can buy a Burka?


*UPDATE*

Just found out that 3 of the 4 shows were sold out, which is kinda awesome – and kinda sucky too ’cause I can’t do the shows!

You know what, you guys are fucking brilliant – your comments, emails etc have been overwhelming. Overwhelmingly cool, funny, supportive and just plain fucking great. THANK YOU!

New tour dates & venues will be posted soon – but mark these dates in your calendars: 17th  - 31st January 2011

I’m going to try again!! x








when does it end?

I don’t want to go into a big rant about the whole BP OIL CLUSTERFUCK

I was angry

But now, after looking at the photos from THE BIG PICTURE over at boston.com

I’m just sad

So sad

And I, along with so many other people

Just want it over

Want the people who’s lives & livelihood has been decimated by this

To have their world made right again

And those motherfuckers at BP (Big Pricks)

Held accountable

And for things to change

New laws, or whatever it takes

To make sure that this shit can NEVER happen again

And I know, I know, WE are the ones that create the demand for the oil

But surely there’s got to be kinder ways to get the job done

To protect those who need protecting

The people on the gulf coast

And these poor animals


sweet carol-ing

I’m not one of those who gets shitty when the radio stations start playing Christmas carols

It’s never early enough I reckon

I have the radio on (loud) from morning ’til night this time of year

But I’ve always been a bit baffled by George Bush getting elected for a second term some of the more morbid Christmas songs

I always thought that songs for this season were meant to be cheery and upbeat

But every year, without fail they play some songs that would make you want to fall asleep with your head in the oven

One of them is called Christmas Shoes

It seriously is so depressing, it’s almost laughable

For those of you who haven’t heard it, it’s about a kid who goes into a shoe shop, to buy some shoes for his mum for Christmas

Nice idea, yeah?

Except the mother is DYING!

Oh the joy this song must bring

Sample lyric:

Sir, I want to buy these shoes

For my Mama please

It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size

Could you hurry, sir

Daddy says there’s not much time

She’s been sick for quite a while

And I know these shoes would make her smile

And I want her to look beautiful

When Mama meets Jesus tonight

OK, now PUT. DOWN. THE. RAZOR. BLADES.

Isn’t that shit just hideous?

.

But wait, there’s more

My other favourite is a little gem called Same Auld Lang Syne

It’s about a guy who runs into his ex-girlfriend at the grocery store

She drops her groceries, they grab a six pack and go drink it in her car

Oh yeah, and she’s MARRIED

Have you ever heard a nicer Christmas story?

Sample lyric:

She said she married an architect

Who kept her warm and safe and dry

She would have liked to say she loved the man

But she didn’t like to lie

And then their beer ran our, he kissed her and she drove off

Jingle fucking bells huh?

Apparently people actually call into the radio station and request this shit

I’m thinking they should be calling the suicide hotline

Nutjobs

My favourite Christmas song has always been I WANT A HIPPOPOTAMUS FOR CHRISTMAS

An nice little happy ditty, that’s great fun for the girls & I to sing-a-long to in the car, at the top of our lungs

They’ll probably never talk to me again when they’re old enough to hear the JENNY TALIA version

But I know you guys won’t hold it against me

So, in the spirit of fucked up Christmas songs, I give you

I WANT A NEW SET OF TITS FOR CHRISTMAS

Your’e welcome