'That marvellous writer 'Lord' Archer came to see us. He had eyes that glowed like small glowing things and a lovely, cheeky smile. Now I had a book contract, he suggested I try his politics-prison-rehabilitation through crap TV strategy. He also offered us a very rare unsigned collection of his complete works, but we declined. There's no room in the house because of the new Aga and my husband's massive collection of interestingly coloured rocks, a legacy of that bad acid he took and ended up in the Metro Centre in Gateshead, naked, babbling and convinced he was St Cuthbert. After dinner I threw a couple of yokels on the fire, my husband changed into his Bullingdon Club suit - royal blue with cream and buff facings - and we settled down with jugs of Armagnac cut with Stolly and a 72-skin, cable-stayed spliff...'
In fact, Wifey is nothing like Jeff in that she has a sense of humour, though she does seem to have a lot of headaches. She emails me about my last post: 'Pyjama-clad magic boy lent in close to me. "Aunty," he said as the Farne light knifed through the shuttered windows, "there is no honour among thieves." I laughed a lot, a lot, a lot. I tried to post but failed as it is that sort of day and my head hurts too much to try again. wifey.'
Monday, February 19, 2007
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A blog about, among other things, imaginary ideas - What ifs? and Imagine thats. What if photographs looked nothing like what we see with our eyes? Imagine that the Berlin Wall had never come down. What if we were the punchline of an interminable joke? All contributions welcome.
I think you are becoming ever so slightly unhinged. You have tripped and fallen into a strange world. And the worrying thing is that you seem so comfortable there. Be careful! There may be no way back.
ReplyDeleteShe can certainly afford to have a sense of humour.
ReplyDelete'Unhinged' I can take, Neil. But 'ever so slightly' is grievously wounding.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's perilously close to a shaved head, Bryan. Too many years writing half the Sunday Times, that what's done it; that and ingesting all those 4X4 fumes, while posing on their bonnets.
ReplyDeleteWhat you need is a good literary agent. You're worth at least double her. You could call it THE MILLER'S TALE.
Yrs from the extended congestion charge zone, querying, as a resident, entitled to a 90% discount, why I am FORCED to buy
a deal which enables me to bat in and around central London of London as and when I please for FIVE days when I only want to bat OUT of the zone for ONE day?! Proof positive that the Mayor of London's about to join you, Robbie and Britney in the rehab clinic.
It's worse than I thought - a morbid fear of understatement, the use of adverbs, and yet, paradoxically, given to wild overstatement without any provocation. Hmmm. Interesting. How are you around semi-colons? I'm only try to help!
ReplyDeleteI cannot believe this..I am now sitting here with a DICTIONARY , for God's sake; I will fish out the Lynne whatshername punctuation tome next..I must not make a mistake here.
ReplyDeleteI LOVE semi-colons; they are so useful; they have drama, suspense- one never knows what is coming next; one just knows that something is about to happen- and yet are precise and meaningful - just like my favourite type of man really . Now there's an image..