Celebrity Demands

As a top celebrity, I don’t have to explain my dressing room demands to you. I just tell you what I want and you give it to me, okay?

Do I make myself clear? Am I being too much of a diva? What did you say? I can read lips you know. You just called me a spoilt bitch. Oh yes you did. What? I misheard? There’s been a hitch? Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. What’s the hitch?

No crates of beer? Now you listen to me, get me that beer or your name will be history in this town. Do you hear me – history! What was that? Oh, you’ll get me what I want. Now that’s more like it. That makes sense. Smart move.

Well now. Let’s see. I’d like champagne, a crate of beer for the crew. I love my crew. I love them like children. I want a four poster bed with red silk sheets scattered with rose petals, orchids in each corner of the room, a bag of toiletries…

(She went on and on, and eventually..)

Ah, I see you brought everything, the bed, the sheets, the orchids. Now get out. I vant to be alone. Did you hear what I said? I said it with a ‘V’, that’s serious. We’re not kidding around here.

My, my, you are a cheeky one.Well, normally, I’d have security take you by the scruff of the neck and haul you out of here for such talk but I do like gophers with spirit, preferably whiskey and coke. Ha ha. I said ha ha! I made a joke, you idiot – laugh!

There, that’s more like it. I can see your tonsils. Well done.

Okay, I’ll tell you why I demanded all these things for my dressing room. First of all, I need the alcohol because I’m an alcoholic. I’m a famous artist and most of us are alcohol fuelled because we’re tortured, tortured I tell you! The grape and the grain keep us going.

Now, I need the flowers because I like nature. Nothing beats the sight and smell of fresh flowers. The red bed is there to stimulate me enough so I won’t fall asleep before or after a show. It’s a lounging bed people. Plus, red is hot. My superstar friends will also be suitably stimulated by my red bed. It’ll get them in the party mood for my after show soiree.

Lastly, is the bag of toiletries, toiletry products are a must. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and I want you to think I’m clean but I’m a dirty little thing really. Anyway, I need to be fresh at least before and after my show.

There. I’ve told you now, satisfied? I’ll give you the rest of the dawn off because I’m such a generous person. What? Wait! What did you just call me? Oh, a cult!

Awww, that’s very sweet of you. I do believe I’m one of the biggest cults in the business.


© Sue Young



Odd Socks & Autographs

Once again, I’d taken the socks out of the dryer and found an odd one. I told myself, this time, I wouldn’t get frustrated or annoyed. This time I would know where the odd sock had gone.

I put a micro camera in each of the socks. I would be able to track where any missing sock had gone. I played back the footage from my computer…

Red Sock was astounded. “But I don’t think I’ve got what it takes to be a star.”

“Nonsense” said Rough Wool Khaki Sock. “We’ll train you up. Besides, that bright red colour of yours, is just what we’re looking for.”

Red Sock gulped. “But…I had a partner.”

“Oh yes.” said Rough Wool Khaki Sock. “That’s true. We come in pairs, but you’re in the real world now. You’re not a pair any more.”

“But we belong together!” wailed Red Sock in a panic.

Rough Wool Khaki Sock sighed and put his ribbed cuff around Red’s shoulders. His voice became a soothing whisper. “Look, that other red sock of yours isn’t as good as you. He is faded, was left out on the window sill on a summers day. He can’t hack it. There’s nothing we can do for him now. He’ll probably end up in an old socks home. Now, do you want to be a star or not?”

“Of course I want to be a star.”

“Well then, follow me into the Academy. It’s this way.”

As Rough Wool Khaki Sock hopped away, Red Sock escaped and fled into the dryer, where he found one damp, depressed and slightly faded red sock right at the back of it. He smiled happily and snuggled close. “I’m back!” he said. “I’m so glad we’re together again!”

“So am I.” said Faded Red Sock.

Well, this was puzzling. If the two socks were together, then how come I was sitting there still looking at one red sock. I checked the back of the dryer. there was nothing there. Then I noticed there was still some footage left on the camera…

Slinky Silk Sock wrapped her instep around Faded Red Sock. “You’re just what I’m looking for to be in my new musical ‘Almost Pink’. I’m going to make you a star!”

© Sue Young






Quote Of The Week

‘Some people believe that by writing down dreams, ambitions and intentions they can come true, because in a way you are sowing a seed into your consciousness, which enables even the smallest intention to take root.’

Toyah WillcoxDiary Of A Facelift

Limiting Belief

Your limiting belief may be skulking outside, just behind the door, in the dark. Some of them like the dark. That’s where they feels safe. Or, your limiting belief may be a right show off, does five minutes when the fridge door opens and a ten minute routine when your relatives come round, complete with top hat, cane and dickie bow. Doesn’t matter that it looks like a dick. It doesn’t care. It likes dickie bows. It likes looking like a dick.

Your limiting belief may even be inside you. A bit like that Alien movie with Sigourney Weaver and John Hurt. You’ve got this foreign body inside you, only it’s not the least bit pleasurable. And it doesn’t always wants to burst out of you, it likes the warmth too much.

Would it be difficult to ignore this mucus covered fiend waiting impatiently in your stomach? All it ever threatens to do is gut you like a fish, gore and intestines everywhere but it doesn’t really want to do that. Not really.

Because that would mean getting rid of it.

Its power lies in the anticipation, the fear. And like any other expert bluffer, the limiting belief often depends on us just pretending it’s nothing more than indigestion. And so it stays there, painfully repeating, but there is no heartburn remedy or decongestant available that can shift this.

‘The opportunities that we pass up (through limited belief) stop us taking risks that we don’t want to take. We simply say we can’t and we’re off the hook.’

The NLP MastersJudy Bartkowiak


According to some schools of thought, you’re not supposed to blast your limiting belief into smithereens, you’re not supposed  to medicate it, or fight it using psychological warfare. No, none of these things. You are supposed to write a letter to it, as if, it were a person. Your mother, your father, an ex lover, an ex friend, maybe it’s all of these and none of these. Maybe our limiting belief is unique and we can’t cannot connect or relate it to anyone else. Limiting belief, you’re an alien, no, you’re a demon at the end of my bed. I believe you can read. I believe you learned your letters at limiting belief school. You’re clever. But it’s what you will do after you get the letter. That’s what’s important. What will you do then?

Maybe it doesn’t matter what it does. Maybe that’s the point. Hey, limiting belief, you can rip it up without reading it, you can mock it and laugh over it with friends, or you can sit and re read it time and time again crying into a glass of Chardonnay, or you may never open the letter at all. It may just go unopened into a drawer, because you’re afraid of what’s in it.

So that’s it guys, you have to write a letter to your limited belief, if you have one, whatever that may be.

Oh okay, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours etc. Ahem.

Dear Limiting Belief, Please stay away and don’t ever come back. I am much happier without you. I’m more sociable for one thing. I’m like a completely different person. I don’t recognise myself. I can do so much without you and nothing is impossible. Everything is possible and then some. Don’t contact me ever again. X


I don’t know why I gave it a kiss. For old times sake I guess.