September 2011

I just finished reading “Oprah, a Biography” by Kitty Kelley – updated and revised. First of all, let me explain. I needed to get away from the serious stuff I’ve been reading of late, and while I was rarely an Oprah voyeur, I thought the book would be interesting, considering she is one of the most intriguing and successful women in the world – I mean let’s face it, she’s been a busy girl this last 25 years. But I have to say, I didn’t like it. Not being Oprah-endorsed, it was a ‘she said, he said’ kind of yarn and boy is there some bitterness out there. Reassured that it will be a gripping read and “a page-turner” as People Magazine claims on the front cover, I just found a lot of it pretty pointless, unworthy and trashy rubbish. I think people of Oprah’s calibre exist on such a different stratosphere to the rest of us, so when people write about them in books like this, it brings all sorts of ugliness to the surface – because can anyone truly know what it’s like to be Oprah? Don’t get me wrong, a book like this certainly shouldn’t be sycophantic, but some opinions come from pretty dubious places, and as “they” say, opinions are like arseholes, every bugger has one. Getting into the book, how can you start a discussion about Oprah without mentioning her weight? She definitely has the most talked about weight “problem” in the world, but on the whole, I just found it horrible, awful and shitty that anyone’s personal issues are so widely discussed, and she herself, so horribly mocked. I mean how do we expect women to overcome personal image issues when we embrace these sorts of media onslaughts? The main reason it’s so impactful is the book covers all of the weight discussions that have ever been printed, all nicely wrapped together in one place. I found it a pretty horrific part of her story. Can you imagine being spoken of like that, every single day of your life? Over her 25 year career, so the story goes, Oprah went from having a pet cockroach, abandoned by her mother, molested and abused, treated like trash by men, and so much more. It’s not the nicest story to read. However, as far as her early childhood memories go, apparently her family say it’s all bullshit. Well we all know that truth is subjective, and while those in our immediate lives might disagree with our memories, it is still our own truth. Sure over the years, her life stories have changed and evolved – but doesn’t everyone’s? And let’s face it, some people are pretty motivated to go after her, as there is a lot of money in the bank, but there are also those eager to defend themselves, because they were there when bad shit happened. All in all, I found this aspect rather tedious. Maybe one day Oprah will eventually release her own autobiography and we can get her story, which will still be her own truth and probably differ from many in her life. Let’s face it, there is no such thing as truth, just perceptions afterall. If nothing else, it will certainly create a media storm. Over the years, Oprah went from being a media available darling, to having complete control over media access. When you read the stories throughout her life and how the press represented everything she said and did, is it any surprise? Shit, if I was her and had her millions, I’d wrap myself up in all the protection I could afford. Many people, who go from rags to riches, learn the hard way – initially they expose themselves to the press, which is a good career move, but after a torrent of negative publicity, they quickly learn to protect themselves. I ain’t saying Oprah is an angel. Sure she screwed up plenty of times along the way, where good things went sour or great ideas turned out to be not so well thought out, but that is as human as it gets. Many in the book who criticise her didn’t get the beacon of Oprah’s approval. This is definitely apparent with her book club, because apparently if you get the O on your cover, a millionaire you will be. But hey, she can’t cover everyone and from where I’m standing, she’s not obligated to. Throughout her life, people pissed her off or offended her, and from that day on, they had no more access to Oprah. Sometimes it seemed tedious on Oprah’s behalf, sometimes fair enough, but I can say one thing – this is a woman who knows how to hold a grudge – yikes. But Oprah has power – a LOT of power, and I think more than anything, this is the issue. People have had to tiptoe around her for years and this is the crux of many of the issues raised in this book. You want to win, Oprah can be your champion or she can screw you completely. Beware. The one thing no one can get past is that Oprah has done AMAZING things in her career. She’s gotten taboo subjects talked about – rape, sex, prostitution, teenage pregnancy, incest, body image, etc… She has donated incredible amounts of money to charities around the world – more than most earn in a lifetime. She’s gotten people thinking about new things, in a new way – especially spirituality, a big priority for her. She’s challenged conventional thinking and an entire generation of “housewives” have been motivated and inspired by her – most of whom are incredibly grateful. She is passionate, human, caring, inspirational, aspirational, and more, but she’s also a super star and with that comes lots of other quirky shit us mere mortals could never understand. I think the main issue Oprah has faced is intellectualism. Criticism come from elements in the media who think her stuff is trash BUT her

Well I’ve finally realised what a massive task I’ve set myself in coming up with an “International Team of Spunks,” and the newly named “International Team of Lovely Personalities.” I had to rename the ugly team, because somehow, when an ugly bastard plays rugby, he looks quite hot – well to me anyway. It’s such a manly, visceral game don’t you think? However this task is an intense process and requires me to watch a lot of rugby! Steve doesn’t mind of course, but really, I have better things to do with my time. The first round of matches is important, because that’s when everyone gets to play and to ensure we truly do develop two international teams, I have to watch as much as I can. We missed out on the first round of games because my husband failed to get the TV service installed that covered it – doh! So less time to survey the field. I’ve enjoyed some of the rugby, but at this stage, it’s not really the exciting stuff – the Haka’s aren’t as passionate, the competition too one sided, but it’s also evolving and improving as the teams are getting better together, so it’s all positive from here. The Ireland vs Australia game was depressing and Argentina were brutal against England. Anyone with the luck of facing Fiji, Tonga or Western Samoa certainly know it after the games – blood sport is all I can say –  and I fully appreciate why it is considered the second most dangerous sport in the world. The Russia vs US game was interesting.  America was all high fives and the Russians more sombre, not even singing their anthem in tune. But don’t the Russians have the physiques of fridges? My word. Dan Vickerman gave us a lovely show when we saw his underpants and tight buttocks in the 20th minute against Ireland, and I have to say, Adam Ashley Cooper of Australia has a very nice arse. The Irish supporters were superb, the US fans mildly entertaining, the commentary teams are doing well pronouncing all the names, and all in all, it’s a feast for the eyes and senses. Below I’ve started tabulating the names. Anything to add? Not all countries are represented yet, but I will get there I promise. I also need to start putting numbers/positions with each name to come up with a selection covering every position on the field. Oh dear, the challenges I set myself. So would you like to share your favourite moment to date? Yours, without the bollocks Andrea Nominees to date include: You can check everyone out at the official RWC11 site Spunks Victor Matfield – Sth Africa Morné Steyn – Sth Africa Mike Phillips – Wales Jamie Roberts – Wales Joe Ansbro – Scotland Ally Strokosch – Scotland Pat Danahy – USA Scott LaValla – USA Todd Clever – USA Alexander Voytov – Russia Denis Antonov – Russia Andrey Ostrikov – Russia Alexey Makovetskiy – Russia Richie McCaw – NZ Ma’a Nonu – NZ Victor Vito – NZ Richard Kahui – NZ Sekope Kepu – Aus Saia Faingaa – Aus Anthony Faingaa – Aus Nathan Sharpe – Aus Adam Ashley-Cooper – Aus David Pocock – Aus Quade Cooper – Aus – he’s got something! Alisi Tupuailai – Japan Toetuu Taufa – Japan Bryce Robins – Japan Brian O’Driscoll – Ireland Cian Healy – Ireland – huge fan of his thighs Alesana Tuilagi – Samoa Tasesa Lavea – Samoa Anthony Perenise – Samoa Maurie Faasavalu – Samoa Ofisa Treviranus – Samoa George Pisi – Samoa Manaia Salavea – Samoa Nice Personalities Gurthrö Steenkamp – Sth Africa Shalck Burger – Sth Africa Adam Jones – Wales Stephen Jones – Wales Moray Low – Scotland David Zirakashvili – Georgia Alexander Todua – Georgia Mike MacDonald – USA Sergey Popov – Russia Andrey Garbuzov – Russia Keven Mealamu – NZ Piri Weepu – NZ – although I love him! Sam Whitelock – NZ Colin Slade – NZ Andrew Hore – NZ Tatafu Polota-Nau – Aus Kurtley Beale – Aus Stephen Moore – Aus Yusuke Aoki – Japan Jerry Flannery – Ireland Paul O’Connell – Ireland Sean Cronin – Ireland Damien Varley – Ireland Census Johnston – Samoa Logovi’i Mulipola – Samoa We also need to acknowledge some other aspects of the game and give appropriate awards. Best Hair Toby Faletau – Wales Adam Jones – Wales Givi Berishvili – Georgia Viktor Kolelishvili – Georgia Louis Stanfill – USA – he’s got a mullet AND a porn star mo! Todd Clever – USA Sergey Popov – Russia Radike Samo – Aus – so far, the winner I think – what a ‘fro! Saia Faingaa – Aus – shows that braids can look cool Toetuu Taufa – Japan Alesana Tuilagi – Samoa – shows that braids can look tough Tasesa Lavea – Samoa Census Johnston – Samoa Maurie Faasavalu – Samoa Best Beard Adam Jones – Wales David Zirakashvili – Georgia Pat Danahy – USA – aka Ned Kelly Ben Alexander – Aus Tatafu Polota-Nau – Aus Yuji Kitagawa – Japan Naoki Kawamata – Japan Logovi’i Mulipola – Samoa Seilala Mapusua – Samoa Best Ears Scott Lawson – Scotland Keven Mealamu – NZ Tony Woodcock – NZ Paul O’Connell – Ireland Best Porn Star Mo Louis Stanfill – USA Mike MacDonald – USA Kurtley Beale – Aus Pat McCabe – Aus Yuji Kitagawa – Japan Juan Manuel Leguizamón – Argentina Face Brazilian Alisi Tupuailai – Japan Ryukoliniasi Holani – Japan When I get time, I’m going to add best tats, best arse, best thighs and spunkiest ref. But enough already!

Our new helper Eve starts with us today. She’s a lovely, smiley lady, and we’re expecting great things. We signed the papers for her to become our employee on Friday, but until we have official approval, we were told she had to stay at a “boarding house.” All weekend I’ve been getting texts from Eve about the three nights of misery she’s had to endure, saying the experience is like being in prison. The “boarding house” is someone’s home, and the girls – there were about nine of them staying there – had to sleep in the laundry, with no pillows, no mattresses and no fans. Additionally, when the lady of the house needed to do the washing, they had to stay in that hot, sweaty room and get even hotter and sweatier. For dinner, they were given sardines, and they were locked in and not allowed to leave. This is the sort of thing that really makes me go grrrrrrrr, so today when we collect Eve, I can promise you that the agency using this woman to board their girls is certainly going to get a tongue lashing. I mean, is it really that hard to treat people with a little dignity? I appreciate that things are done very differently in different parts of the world, I really do, and I also understand that I do not fully appreciate all of the aspects involved, but please, give the girls a bloody bed, pillow, fan and something nourishing to eat. They’re paying $10 a night for the privilege, so a little bit of comfort should be a minimum. Sometimes I wonder why cows getting slaughtered in Indonesia gains more coverage (and outrage) than people being treated like shit. And this case is nothing compared to some of the horrendous situations human beings are enduring all over the world! Yours, Without the Bollocks Andrea

What can I say – it’s been a weird and very emotional week. Knowing that someone I love has suffered such a huge and devastating loss while there is little I can do, is not an easy thing to accept. When you feel this way, you wander through the world, not really part of it. Anyone who has experienced grief – or been close to it as is my case this week – knows what I mean. When you feel like this, any bitching, moaning, judgement, etc.. is even more unwelcome than usual, because when you hear it, you want to shake that person and say, how can you complain? How can you judge? Don’t you know what happened this week? But we are all wrapped up in our own lives and often so busy, we get consumed and often don’t spend time thinking of others. We all have our own problems to deal with and one of the life lessons I’ve learned on this journey is this – all problems are relevant to the person experiencing them. They may not be as big as some are suffering, but they are still relevant. I came to this epiphany when I’ve felt guilty about moaning about my own lot, because I have seen human suffering on a scale that’s blown my mind – yet I haven’t even seen the worst this world has to offer, like the camps in Darfur. But my problems and concerns are relevant to me, and therefore relevant. I have a right to them. As does everyone. This week I feel more connected to the worst the world has to offer and I have to say, I don’t like it. So I’ve been asking myself, how can I do something to help the little Tracey’s of the world live? How can I really make a difference? You see, I believe I can make a difference. That I can do something significant. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’ll be sure to tell you when I do know, because I’ll be looking for support. I’ve decided that I’m going to get really really busy, because if I want to change the world, then I need the power and connections to do so. Don’t worry, I won’t be entering politics – never understood why anyone would do that – but I’ll find a way, somehow. All I know is that I need to do more. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I woke up today with Vick’s news going around and around in my head. It’s definitely hit me harder today than when I first heard about it. Vick lost her baby daughter, Tracey, yesterday – a little girl who had been on this planet for only six weeks. Tracey had been a sickly bubba since birth, but because Vick lives in a poor part of the Philippines, her daughter got sub-standard care and died because she had an allergic reaction to some antibiotics. Vick asked the doctors not to give the medicine to her daughter, but because doctors are still Gods in this part of the world, they ignored Vick and killed her daughter. The worst part is – she didn’t need to die. I can still hear the roar of grief in Vicky’s voice when we spoke yesterday, and that is probably why I keep finding myself in tears. It is unbearable to think that anyone you love is going through such a horrendous time, especially when I’m so far away and completely useless to her right now. All I have is words. Vicky is a lady who deserved to be a mother more than anyone I know. She took beautiful care of my boys and our family for two and a half years, and before that, she spent nearly 15 years taking care of and loving other people’s children in Singapore. She is a wonderful person, someone I have missed keenly, and I was delighted that at long last, it was her turn to enjoy motherhood. I’m finding myself going from grief to anger today, because why is this world so unfair? If Tracey was born in Singapore, or Australia, or anywhere else where healthcare is affordable and of a high standard, she would be alive. But she’s not, and millions of women all over the world are suffering unbearable heartache while their governments continue to be corrupt and instead of making their countries better for their people (which is their job), they are spending trillions of dollars on weapons, killing neighbours and starting wars, when the only thing that matters to the majority of people in this world is living with peace, love and harmony. I think women need to take back the mantle of power from men – they’ve had their time and keep fucking it up. Maybe if women rule, we can get refocused on the things that matter, like making sure everyone enjoys a minimal standard of living and that every community has access to a hospital that is equipped with the best doctors, equipment and standards of hygiene? It really shouldn’t be too much to ask. The grief of losing a child is probably the most unbearable grief I could imagine and I just wish that I could have done more for Vick, and for any woman facing this situation. I feel I have so much with my two beautiful lads and the benefits I have had all my life because I won the life lotto of being born in the first world. Vick didn’t win that lotto. In the meantime Vicky my darling, I’m thinking of you every day, mourning with you for your little treasure, and I hope you can find some solace during this time to help you through. Your unbending faith in God is sure to help you right now and just know that my family love you and we are here for you always. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

A little while ago I came across Slut Walks following a Mona Gable Blogpost, which led me to the original NYT article it was based on, by Rebecca Traister.  Somehow I missed all of the coverage around SlutWalks and found it a very intriguing idea. It’s also been rattling around in my head ever since and I wanted to write my thoughts down, but I just haven’t had the time or headspace to get my thinking together. So here goes. For those equally oblivious to these events, SlutWalks came about when a Toronto police officer told a group of college women in May this year that if they wished to escape sexual assault, they should avoid dressing like sluts. Idiot. It actually reminded me of the South Australian judge who, many years ago during a rape trial between a husband and wife, said that “no really can mean yes.” He wasn’t popular. Anyways, as a result of the Toronto cop making this stupid statement, men and women have marched in more than 70 cities around the world, often dressed in “sluttish” attire. It’s not an activity that made it to Singapore suffice to say… Well I don’t think it did? Both Mona and Rebecca raise this issue quite delicately, with neither convinced that marching the streets in a pair of panties is the way to deal with the situation, but then, what is appropriate? One thing that has always pissed me off is the question in a rape trial – what were you wearing? Like that has absolutely ANYTHING at all to do with rape. I’ve met many rape victims (and have almost been one myself twice) and you know what, some dress sexily, some as modest as can be – and every time I hear this question, I want to scream to the judge and the media often supporting the idea – “if we all dress in ankle length floral kaftans not dissimilar to a tent, will you then finally accept that it is the man’s responsibility?” And if it’s continued to be positioned as women’s fault, you have to ask – do the Arabs have it right by recognising men can’t control themselves, and therefore the women must take responsibility by covering up and dressing in burkas?” Also, if it is women’s responsibility, does that mean the West is as full of sexual repression as is reportedly the case in the Arab world? I unequivocally believe that it is NEVER a woman’s fault for being raped. We do not ask for it. We do not attract it by how we dress. We do not deserve it for being free and easy. The only thing women are guilty of is having a vagina (besides other orifices). I mean, can’t people see the contradiction with how we view our so-called progressive world alongside archaic beliefs like this? So much for women’s lib! Men who rape are responsible for their own actions, but some claim they cannot control themselves. Somewhere along the way in a rapists life, one experience (or many) happened that taught them violence was OK, or that women were inferior, or that control is something appealing, or that sexually dominating people was horny, or they were sexually abused by someone they trusted, or they watched their mother raped by their father, or considered the scenes in porn movies where women enjoyed having a 15 inch dildo shoved up her rear the norm, or whatever… And there is another element to look into – the “sickness” within society at large that creates “these” people, rather than laying all of the blame with the victims. Or is it in the genes as some claim? The reality is – this situation isn’t straight forward no matter how strongly I believe that women are not responsible for rape. So I decided to do a bit of “market research” and asked Steve – why do men rape? He said he had absolutely no idea how any man could enjoy forcing a woman sexually, let alone being physically capable of sustaining an erection while forcing themselves upon a woman. OK I said, let’s talk about that no-turning-back-point you get to, where there’s a promise of sex, or we’re getting hot and steamy and something happens – the boys interrupt, for example. I have watched this point occur a few times, and for me, no big deal if we get interrupted. But for Steve, he goes from angry to hurt and back to angry again for about 24 hours afterwards and it can be rather uncomfortable. Thankfully, he’s more of a sulker about it, but it’s a pretty powerful reaction to observe and one I am unable to appreciate fully. It’s just not like that for me and I presume, most women.   Steve explained “it’s like my whole body is surging with testosterone, every muscle is pumped up with it, and until I can get that release I am consumed by it.” I asked another friend Dave, who is equally respectful of women and he said pretty much the same thing. And you see, I believe this is the point we are talking about – that all consuming physical reaction. Fortunately, the majority of men on the planet have had an appropriate upbringing that teaches them to control that urge and not lash out when they don’t get their “release” (even if sulking might follow). Unfortunately some men have not learnt that control. For me, this is the fundamental issue. Women are being blamed for men reaching that point and their inability to control themselves. What gets them there? A woman is teasing them or perceived to be? They are getting on well with a woman and the night is looking promising? A porno? Who knows! I don’t know what happens to make a man capable of rape, BUT the role of women should be deemed irrelevant, because men should be responsible for themselves and know what is, and what is not, appropriate

Girls, how are we going to get through the next few weeks? It’s almost World Cup Rugby time, and that means a dedication and focus on sport I’m just not used to from my dear husband – I will go un-noticed, un-loved and un-cherished… But I have a strategy for survival for us gals married to (or shacked up with) blokes who love their rugby, and my strategy is this – we’re going to come up with an “International Team of Spunks” AND an “International Team of Ugly Bastards,” because seriously, there really are some ugly bastards playing rugby. I would like to see our final list make headlines, so fellow rugby widows, your support and sharing of this campaign is vital! To come up with truly International teams, I need you to nominate your contenders as the tournament progresses – simply write the names in the comment section of the blog and I’ll capture all the data. Then I’ll issue a survey and we can all vote together. In the last two World Cups, I’ve done my own International Team of Spunks, but I’m looking forward to sharing the love with my fellow women in this new world of social media, as well as extending it to include an ugly bastards team. Personally, I am very happy that my husband is a lover of rugby. Before we met, I was always happy to survey a scrum or watch Taqiri run the length of the pitch – such fine thighs. Fortunately, my rugby knowledge has increased thanks to the patient teachings of my husband, and I now have a greater appreciation for the actual game. However my preference remains with perving at the lovely big thighs, bulky shoulders, tight bottoms, big hunky chests, and well, pretty much the whole gamut of a professional rugby player’s body. I also have full permission to perve to my heart’s content without threat of ego devastation – so that’s a bonus for the coming weeks. Now, while I appreciate that not all women love their men big, most women with rugby loving husbands will tend towards this demographic, so we should be able to capture some excellent international data. The rules There are 15 players on each team, but with a squad, we get to add six more. For both teams, we are allowed a maximum of two players/number, and while coming up with two nominees for number threes (prop) might be challenging, we’re going to have to vote hard to agree which are the sexiest number 10s (fly half/First 58). Whereas the ugly bastards team is sure to have a plethora of prop options but not many fly halfs. Simple right? For the remaining six, we’ve got a bit more flexibility as they can play in any position. It’s sure to evolve as we go, and we’ll also seek to nominate the spunkiest team overall, as well as the ugliest – South Africa and Argentina stand a good chance of winning the latter. The final rule – while I will be using advanced online research technology to capture the votes – the final decision is mine and mine alone, unless you can convince me otherwise… In addition, I will, of course, be offering my deep insight on the games, so stay tuned for Haka critiques, the best clothes ripping perving opportunity, the best scrum of the tournament, amongst others. We’ll get through this together ladies. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea PS: All Blacks, it would be lovely to see you win, and even though my heart will always be with the Wallabies, I’d love it to be your year. But if you do drop the ball (so to speak), just feel reassured that I expect quite a few of your team members to be on the “International Team of Spunks.”

Has anyone watched Secret Millionaire? Mate, talk about messing about with your heart strings. Last year we watched Australia’s “Secret Millionaire,” and this year it’s been the British and now the American one. I’ve got to say, considering these are considered first world countries, some people live in very shite circumstances indeed. The Australian one was hard, but as a general rule, the basic standard of living – even for the poorest – is much higher than the US and the UK. Don’t get me wrong, some of Australia’s destitute are having a very hard time of it, but one thing to be thankful for is the weather – it makes a hell of a lot of difference when you have to sleep rough. I always remember those poor buggers I’d see sleeping in cardboard boxes in London and Boston during the winter months – ahhhhh – it was so frickin cold!! In the UK and US there are young families living in single-room-mould-infested-dumps and that is just not how it’s supposed to be in the first world. We all know that people live with the threat of gun violence in the US, but in this show you’ll meet the children who’ve watched their parents gunned down, or their siblings, or friends… Brutal. This show really makes you look at how drugs create horrendous societal problems at every level in both countries, why kids have given up and dropped out of education thus perpetuating the cycle, how the disabled and physically impaired don’t have a chance of meeting basic needs because most people don’t care, and that people are literally starving. One story showed that 65 percent of people in one community were malnourished. This isn’t Darfur, this is the UK and US! But within every community you’ll find truly amazing people working their arses off to help as many as they can. They’re the true heroes whose only motivation is to make the standard of life for their community better. They’re feeding thousands, giving people respect and dignity, training young people, trying to find jobs for those who need them, pushing the government to provide better housing, taking care of single mums, building playgrounds so children can know some childhood, and they’re taking care of the sick who are unable to get themselves to hospital. People run activities for the elderly, they create safe environments for the young people when everyone else has given up on them and try to get them re-engaged back into society, and they’re doing so much incredible work – mostly without any support from government. But the thing they give the most is love and community spirit – everyone needs that. There really are some remarkable people in this world. Bring in the millionaires, people who come from very comfortable lives – most of whom have worked hard for it – and within 10 days (only six days for the US millionaires) you watch them profoundly changed by the experience. Most start off with a pretty patronizing attitude towards the poor, but they change their point of view very quickly as many of them get to know “poor” people for the first time in their lives. Also, as part of the deal, they’re “poor” – they have to survive on the equivalent of job seekers allowance while away (six pounds a day in the UK) and live in equally undesirable accommodation – let’s just say most of them start their journey by cleaning the toilet. The one consistent thing is that all of them are absolutely shocked by how their fellow countrymen are surviving in a world that has been comfortable and generous to them. When people talk about the divide between rich and poor, this show definitely demonstrates how deep that divide can be. Many might be cynical about this show. I mean let’s face it – it’s very positive PR for the millionaires after all. When you do something so public, with yourself positioned as the saving hero, some might be a little sceptical. But I think it’s shedding light on some very challenging situations people within our communities are facing, and if it takes a TV show to bring these things to light to make more of us think about what we can do to help, and maybe even be a little less judgemental of people in these situations, then so be it. And let’s face it, many of the millionaires are donating hundreds of thousands of their own money to these communities, and it’s not just a one-off thing, some are involved for the long term, bringing real value. If you’re looking for some meaningful TV viewing, I reckon this is a powerful show. It’ll break your heart and give you hope at the same time, but it ain’t always easy viewing. If I ever feel in need of a good cry, I always make sure I’ve got one recorded, but more importantly, it makes me want to do more. And while we don’t need to be millionaires to make a contribution to our society’s welfare, money certainly helps, but so does hope.   Yours, without the bollocks Andrea