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Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium: London’s First Cat Brothel


Last night I went to ‘Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium’ which calls itself a ‘cat cafe’.  It’s basically an English tea room complete with vintage teapots, scones, jam and cakes; but with the added bonus of having cats to keep you company. It’s the first of its kind in London, primarily originating in Japan.

The popularity of cat cafés in Japan is attributed to many apartments forbidding pets, and to cats providing relaxing companionship in what may otherwise be a stressful and lonesome urban life. (Wikipedia)

It sounds like cute, harmless fun doesn’t it? Well that’s what I thought, too, but upon closer inspection I can actually reveal that this is London’s first CAT BROTHEL. The first of many I fear.

Due to the overwhelming popularity of the concept my fiancée had to book tickets for us months in advance; so we could only get an evening slot. A strange time for afternoon tea, but I could eat a nice scone at any time of day, so I wasn’t particularly fussed. I’m a bit of a cat-man myself and have two at home - Larry and Suzy - who I love as much as you can love any cats. They bring a lot of happiness into my life and I thoroughly enjoy all cats and all cat memorabilia. I hadn’t initially given much thought to this “cat underworld” before my visit.  I assumed a trip to a cat cafe would just be a ‘bit of a laugh’ and right up my alley… How wrong I was.

I headed there straight from Shepherds Bush after work. The skies were darkening as I took the tube across London. I emerged from the safe, uninspiring underground straight into the lively, hipster hive that is Shoreditch. A cool, trendy place with an energetic atmosphere; yet the place still feels dirty and rough underneath. Once the reality of the fast-approaching situation started to sink in, I too began to feel just as dirty and rough myself. 

As I wandered through the streets I took out my phone for directions to Lady Dinah’s – only to be faced with my own phone wallpaper. I must see it a hundred times a day, but tonight I actually paid attention. It was Larry, my cat, staring back at me. Never have I realised how hurt those little amber eyes looked until tonight. I pushed aside the guilt and told myself I was being silly. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I’m just going to a cat cafe.

As I arrived at the café, I saw a black cat in the window display asleep. Sweet. My friends were already waiting so I made my way inside. There’s a strange reception area with one door at the back of the room with a sign that reads “please wait to be called.”

There was one member of staff behind the counter. I asked if I could go straight in and meet my friends who were already there but was curtly told to wait. Wait for what, I wondered… I started to feel nervous and my eyes darted around looking for exits. There was only one. I told myself to calm the f**k down. They’re just cats. Cats I hadn’t met. Cats I was paying to see. The recurring thought bounced around my skull ‘Oh god, what am I doing here?’

The door opened and for a split-second I expected an impossible giant cat to greet me.  But no. It was just a regular sized woman. She welcomed me and ran through some of the ground rules. I must not wake a sleeping cat. I must not feed the cats. I must not pick up the cats. The cats are allowed onto my lap; but it must be their decision and theirs alone. I nodded along and agreed to the rules. She led me downstairs. On the way down, we passed a beautiful exotic cat, “Petra”, who was sprawled across a Chaise Longue. I couldn’t take my eyes off her but her sultry gaze cut right through me… her contempt was withering. The decor was quirky, with a shabby-chic vintage tea-room feel, but at a second glance I realised that everything was specifically built for cats. The book case was actually a climbing frame with nooks, crannies and hidey-holes. The shelves were in fact a cat run that made its way through the cafe. It’s not so much shabby-chic as it is tabby-chic.

I met my friends downstairs and we sat down for tea and cake. The reality set in pretty quick that this was basically a BROTHEL FOR CAT LOVERS. The cats came over to me, and although they let me stroke them, they didn’t really seem THAT into it. There were cat-toys strewn about the place. They appeared mildly interested in them at first, but I soon became aware that they weren’t actually playing with the toys at all. They were just TOYING with ME.  Giving me just enough attention to keep me interested – but not enough to satisfy. I soon realised it was all an act -  and with names like “Biscuits” and “Wookie” - I really started to question how genuine these cats really were. I mean, “Biscuits”? Really? It was clearly just a stage name. Even my sweet, sweet (but oh so cold) “Petra”. It was all just an illusion, wasn’t it?

What had I done? The old adage of “why go out for burgers when you have steak at home” really stuck in my mind. My cats basically did the same thing as these cats. There was nothing particularly special about them. I felt guilty that I had left my cats alone in my flat to go and play with other cats.

It’s not like I’m completely loyal to my cats or anything, I have frequently played with other cats. I even had close bonds with some cats back at home, cats I grew up with. I indulged myself with cute cat videos and pictures on the internet sporadically but one thing here was different… I’d never exchanged money to do so before. I’d paid for this. I’d gone out of my way for this.

THIS was crossing the line.

The rest of the night was a blur. I just remembered wanting to get home to my cats. I arrived home and ran up the stairs, swung open the door and fell to my knees; cradling Larry in my arms and kissing him on the forehead.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!" I cried.

"Mwreaow" he said.


I contemplated a stuttering explanation for my absence, a justification for my infidelity, but thought it best to just bury my face in him again.


The devil’s greatest trick is proving he doesn’t exist. A cat’s greatest trick is convincing you it gives a fuck.

I’ll be booking again in the morning…

If you’d like some faux furry love, you should pop down too!

Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium
152-154 Bethnal Green Road, Shoreditch, London, E26DG

The Spartan Skippers complete the Whole30 challenge. Before/After pics and some words on how we got on.

Poster #225


Guys I’m just popping to #Shoreditch, you dudes want anything? 


Guys I’m just popping to #Shoreditch, you dudes want anything?


The man who did some exercise: The downside to losing weight

Over the last couple of years I’ve been on a pretty solid diet of good food and lots of exercise (mostly running). It’s been tough work but I was MASSIVELY massive and decided I wanted to down-size (to a smaller ass) and I’m happy to report that I now only take up one seat on public transport and feel better than ever!

We all know the benefits of a healthy lifestyle but I’m here to tell you that there are some downsides too. So think carefully before putting down that biscuit…

1) - Clothes

The first one is fairly obvious and hard to avoid. You WILL shrink and as a result you WILL look/feel ridiculous in the larger clothes you own.This means spending money on slightly smaller clothes, which is great for your self-esteem but not so great for your wallet…

Also, if you plan on continuing to lose weight you know that anything you buy will soon be made redundant by your ever decreasing waist size!

My method was to buy cheap (Burton), which still cost me quite a lot but there’s not a whole lot you can do about it, unless you adopt a monk-style outfit in the form of a robe or something…

2) - You are still ugly

Yeah. So… When I was fat I always assumed I would be pretty darn good-looking once I lost weight…… Turns out I still see a whole bowl of wrong where my face should be, albeit a slightly smaller bowl of wrong.

The one solution I have to this is to just be incredibly attractive in the facial region. Problem solved for you.

If this isn’t an option then I’m sorry buddy… Learn to love yourself or some shit.

3) - People are meaner to you

This is a complex one… Now, you would assume people were more likely to verbally abuse a fat person for being fat but it turns out that “slightly chubby” people get wayyy more stick for it!

My theory is that people just pity you when you are MORBIDLY OBESE and consider it beneath them to cause the poor fatty further pain. They have enough on their plate. (Sorry.)

The problem with gently teasing a slightly chubby chubster who has recently lost weight is that they probably still think of themselves as pretty fat and their self-esteem is just hanging on by a thread.The problem here isn’t really the piss-takers, it’s really a confidence thing for the overweight folks. Beauty is in the eye of the pie-holder and you must remind yourself to take the teasing in good jest because they assume you’re now thinner and thus able to joke about how fat you were in the past… Which is kind of true, but it is a weird, touchy, sensitive subject for most post-fatties to discuss. For example I can quite easily laugh my arse off at an old picture of myself in full 20 stone fat-suit one day but then on a different day get deeply depressed at how the fuck I ever got that huge… It’s swings and roundabouts. I’M COMPLETELY WELL ADJUSTED NOW, mind.

4) - You become “boring” and smug

I swear I used to be funnier. Now I feel all I talk about is running, training, nutrition and eating “paleo”. I also feel incredibly smug most of the time and am continually battling myself internally to keep the smug cunt within from escaping…

So there you have it. Some cons to weight-loss for you.

Needless to say this is mostly in jest and actually I feel fucking fantastic most of the time.

Eat well and run lots.



When I grow up I want to draw #comics.

When I grow up I want to draw #comics.




Today! The absurdly prolific and unspeakably nice Rob Delaney. See me ask him questions without using the @ symbol! IMPOSSIBLE YOU SAY? WATCH AND SEE!

Oh, and maybe, if anyone thinks to do so in the future, someone could tell me that my TIE isn’t quite making it all the way up to my COLLAR once I am sitting in front of a CAMERA.

I sincerely thought “That must be the cool new thing” about your tie. It didn’t OCCUR to me that every stitch on your person wouldn’t DO AS TOLD.

What a kind, gentle soul he has. You can tell by his laugh.