This is a call for all men out there, to look at our female friends, find inspiration, and say no to the perfect body image. We are perfect as we are. We are perfect with or without beer bellies, with our without hair, with or without man-boobs.
When something as good as the Night Tube is gifted to the people there has to be a downside, right? It's been sought after for years now. "Why," Londo...
Something terrible is happening to the Tube. Where once it was a place of solitude for the fatigued, if a bit sweaty, commuter, a sadistic group of right-on luvvies is attempting to turn it into a guitar-playing, poncho-wearing, dreadlock-sporting commune.
In the last few months, I have made many trips across London, alone, using different mobility aids. All have been unnecessarily eventful, and have ben...
On Sunday, London's Regent Street began a month of Summer Streets - every Sunday in July it will be closed to traffic, leaving shoppers and visitors the rare pleasure to roam Regent Street freely on foot. This first Sunday it was transformed into a spectacular display by TfL and London Transport Museum as part of their Transported by Design free festival.
So I was tired. Very tired. Eight hours of customer service job, dealing with progressively drunker people went by without incident, but I wasn't up f...
Crossing a metal barrier into an odd small cage for women while men glare over the divide felt like I and the other women were communicating 'I feel vulnerable around men', emphasising the power of the men outside the zone.
A week that seemed to start off so well for Sadiq Khan, has already fallen apart and it's only Wednesday. Given his swift u-turn on this pledge and others he made during his election campaign, one is left wondering what else the new mayor will fail to deliver for Londoners.
I wouldn't like to assume what the Night Tube is going to be like but after once speaking to the ticket inspector on the high speed service from St Pancras International to Strood, I understand that the later the service, the more unpleasant the experience. He nick named that service the Vomit Comet, which I think dangerously glamourises it.
I have been eager to make a music video for my song Tube Ride of Shame for a while, but was determined to wait until I could be sure it would be done properly - AKA professionally - and not by me making a stumbling selfie video amongst confused commuters.
The bookmakers have George Galloway in third place for the position of Mayor of London, which is determined by the Supplementary Vote. Neither Sadiq Khan nor Zac Goldsmith stands any realistic chance of winning outright on first preferences. They, and all other Mayoral candidates who want to win, need to start engaging with Galloway's policy proposals.
The bleak reality is that the black cab industry is at risk of becoming extinct. Seeking Judicial Review is the only route of success to ensuring a fairer system with more regulation. If Uber gains a monopoly in the market, the travelling public could suffer from dramatic fare increases and compromised regulation surrounding safety and we can't let that happen.
I just couldn't sit by and watch the slow and painful death of the iconic black cab industry; I had to take action. After all, this is an industry that not only supports me and my family but also the families of 25,000 black cabbies in London, and related businesses such as garages and vehicle manufacturers.
I'm going to cut to the chase; the next few years are going to see London's infrastructure stretched to breaking point, and the next Mayor of London has a colossal job on their hands to prevent the capital's vital services and infrastructure from bursting at the seams.
I become a connoisseur, admiring a nice 90 degree angle and revering a really good spread. I'm so excited by the width between one man's knees, I actually fall into him, in my haste to claim the seat beside him. When I spot an empty seat between two spreaders, it makes my day. I couldn't be happier if I'd found £50 on the floor.
So congrats to whoever it was who strung up the mistletoe, and well done TfL for ferrying everyone round more or less successfully for another year. But please, please, as a Christmas present, let the man on the Clapham Omnibus decide what constitutes 'good', and stop telling him what to think. That's if he can squeeze on to it, that is.