The Goo Life

Updated: Nov 25, 2019

We caught up with Glasgow Town’s favourite socialite and style icon to find out what she does when she’s not on screen as the comedy foil of drug dealers and cheats.



Good afternoon Goo. How are you?

I’m lovely, thank you.

What you’ve been up to?

Well Terry, for one thing I’ve been smoking quite a lot. I love to smoke. It makes me feel sophisticated like Audrey Hepburn. That’s Audrey back in the Sabrina days, by the way, not now. She’s dead.

Apart from smoking, have you been attending university?

I have during the day and then been spreading myself thin at night. My mate recently needed my help and I shamelessly left him in the lurch, bailing out when things started to get tough. All he needed was some help studying and I blew it all out of proportion. He shouldn’t even be doing this test. It’s only another stick for his department to beat him over the head with. Felt pretty low after that.

What did you do? Say sorry?

Nah, I phoned Ally and had some sex.

Tell me about Ally.

Arr, he’s someone I shouldn’t really be having sex with. Well, not anymore. It’s good and everything but the psychological warfare is devastating. He has a girlfriend and I keep getting drafted in as the third side of his manage-a-trois. It’s harsh.

I suppose dating ain’t what it used to be then?

That is true. It’s pure shite actually. Where are all the nice boys? They aren’t shagging all the nice girls, that’s for sure.

You sound bitter.

Meh, comme ci, comme ca. I have my eye on this lad that works in Peckhams. Sometimes I go there and stare at him over the Oreo Bash. He always looks like he’s in a world of his own. I’ll never approach him. ‘Tis but a pipedream.

That was Monday. Tell me about Tuesday.

Total walk of shame on Tuesday morn, waiting for hours on a fucking bus across from Kelvingrove in the pissing rain and without pants. It’s a long, uninteresting tale so I’ll cut straight to the chase and say that they simply weren’t worth saving. No one in the queue could have known, but sometimes you glance at the lady standing beside you and think she knows. I couldn’t head straight to class looking a fucking riot so I cut the first couple to get back to my bit for a shower and some Shreddies. Ended up watching America’s Top Model as well, so only really made it in for my last lecture.

Do you enjoy your classes?

Sometimes. A lot of the time I like to look around at everyone else: some paying attention, others secretly watching films under their desks. The best people to watch are the folk that are really into it. You know, education is my life, man! You can see them itching to ask questions about everything. My pal – the esteemed Mr. Wheeler that’s doing the test I mentioned – is the polar opposite of that. I guess that’s why I walked on him because it kind of feels like he’s beyond help.

Just like your pants?

Just like my pants. Actually, I’ll be the judge of that. Tuesday night turned out to be great. I went to the Sparkle Horse quiz with Queen B. What a hoot! He told me he’s been appearing in several low-brow photo shoots, the exact web address I’m not allowed to divulge but it’s www.hungryhungrybottoms.com. He makes big bucks but it sounds horrendous. I don’t fancy the porn thing. People are always asking me. Dirty, dirty people. It’s never a good opening line, Snapchatters! In a word: chivalry. I need a Don Quixote in my life, just without the mental illness if possible

Are you an old-fashioned romantic?

I wouldn’t say so. I just watch too many films. Nobody ever told all those girls that went on the bus to Hollywood that they’d end up getting pumped for a living, but they still followed the dream.

That’s pretty bleak.

Light and shade, friend. Light and shade. I’ll be back talking about Ru Paul’s Drag Race and lollipops in a minute.

You said you and Queen B did the quiz. Did you win?

No, it was a fucking fix. It came down to a tiebreaker and I let B do the dance-off. Musical theatre students are the worst choice for dance-offs. He started doing some shite from Wicked or something. Thankfully the winners gambled all and lost on Play Your Cards Right. We hung out in The Chip ‘til closing. I love sitting on the roof terrace and it has so many plants. So green. And the mandatory fairy lights.

Is The Chip your favourite West End pub?

I like it but sometimes – usually between midnight and one – it can feel like an endless parade of exes. You know, The Usual Suspects except everyone in the lineup has seen you naked. Sake man, it’s an uphill struggle. Mind in Ocean’s Eleven they had ‘The Pinch’?

I don’t recall that. What was it?

It was this nuclear device that knocked out all the power in Las Vegas so that George Clooney could rob the casino. I wish I could use that on scumbags’ collective wank-banks. It would make my late night Chip visits much less uncomfortable. Brel is cool, and I like The Judges because it’s got a Noel’s Crinkly Bottom fruit machine.

And the beers?

Beer is for SQUARES, boyo. Gin all the way. I can’t wait until I’m a mother so that I can be officially ruined. Hendricks comes with a fucking slice of cucumber in it. How West End is that? All these guys with their craft beer and no socks… Fuck off!

On Wednesday you seemed very quiet. What happened?

That was a detox day. Every few days I need to regroup and watch the telly without the eyebrows.

The eyebrows?

The secret of modern beauty is all in the eyebrows. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar and a charlatan. Do you know how many boys I used to get before I embraced the tweezers? (holds up her hand in an ‘O’ sign) THAT’S HOW MANY.

You mention boys quite a lot.

I do, but that’s because I rarely meet men.

Ouch. So Wednesday was a lazy one?

Aye. I kind of thought my lazy mate Wheeler would have called by then but he was strangely off the map. Probably sitting at home in the dark waiting for me to call. He’s probably been doing better without me, to be honest. I can be a bit flaky.

Do you think you’ll patch things up?

Yeah of course, we always do. That’s the thing if you put two fire signs together, you get a bonfire. When he gets booted out of uni on Friday I’ll be there for him. Maybe I’ll take him to a bare-knuckle boxing match. There’s definitely one happening this Saturday. Do you want a ticket?





Goo The Experimental Fashionista appears in 'Boxhead', an original novel by David McMahon. Stay tuned for more details, boyo.


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© 2019 David McMahon.