My darling people
I’m so sorry for such a protracted absence, I needed a holiday. I have been betrayed!
My dear Julius Ackass, with whom I’ve enjoyed a close personal relationship for at least 20 years has found another love! My heart is…slightly cracked, how could he do this. Her name is Dora and what annoys me the most is that her pedigree is better than mine. Okay, she’s a pure bred golden Labrador, but even so!
Although there is nothing improper about the relationship, I heard Julius say “My darling, I cannot imagine my life without you…” and I thought “At last, the proposal I’ve waited so long for is nigh.” My heart lifted, a smile nearly split my face in two, I turned around, and he was talking to the dog. I was so wounded, so let down, so jealous, that I decided the only thing that could revive my spirits would be a retreat.
I spoke to a dear friend who’d been through a similar situation with a pedigree Pekinese, and she recommend a blind, deaf, monk who lives in the foothills of Machu Pichu. Apparently he can solve all your problems providing he agrees to see you. So off I went.
After a long plane journey, a seemingly longer journey in a rust bucket of a four wheel drive, I arrived at the foot of the slope where he lives. I found the third blueberry bush on the left, and made my way along to the mouth of his cave. My friend had told me that you call out three times, and if he doesn’t answer he doesn’t consider you worthy of his time. I thought “How ridiculous, the man is deaf!” So I marched smartly into his cave and tapped him on the shoulder.
When he came round I attended to the wound on his forehead, he headbutted a rock when he fell over, and made him a nice hot drink. It turned out that he was neither a monk, nor a wise man, nor blind or deaf. It was a ‘joke’ in certain circles that too many people fell for. Boy did they pick the wrong person to play a joke on. Especially as the guy’s advice was fantastic and I feel so much better.
He is close to my age, and currently ensconced in my flat in Belgravia, I generally live in my Knightsbridge apartment, having the time of his life. Apparently he fell foul of the authorities in a South American country and had been hiding out in that cave for 5 years. So I hired a private plane, had a passport forged for him, and brought him home. Where this may go I do not know, but Julius can keep his dog!
Anyhoo
I arrived back in the UK to discover that Labour were in power, the pensioners were being screwed, and everyone was getting free clothes and football tickets except me and Prince William. The country has gone to pot!
I have to say that Labour have run into trouble in record time, and of course I will be fighting for the pensioners. No one screws my mother and gets away with it. No I don’t pay her bills, she’s too proud, but what can you do with them at that age? She refused the home. It’s not even a serious question ‘why don’t you live together?’ only one of us would come out alive and it wouldn’t be her. We may not get on but killing her would seriously unsettle me for days, although I think I’d get off scot-free as she’s well known just about everywhere for being marginally more impossible than a Times Crossword.
Strictly has started again, carefully produced with referees in every training room from what I hear. There is rumour that one couple had to be pulled apart, they weren’t actually fighting, but the pro was trying to escape so the team stepped in. Apparently one of the contestants was hoping that the Strictly curse would strike and decided to give it a push. No sequins were harmed during the incident.
I have eyes and ears everywhere.
As to my friend who played the ‘joke’, I know her very well. She’s a woman of a certain age who has lived a rather unfulfilled life since her husband ran off with a Bichon Friese. He actually went missing during a skiing trip, but so did his precious dog so we have our suspicions. They only found his skis and a set of footprints. Apparently the depth of them suggested he was carrying something about the size of a small dog. As did the dog poop a little further on. He hasn’t been seen or heard of since.
Anyway, I told her that the monk did see me, that he was 6′ 2″ tall, jet black hair, so ripped he had an 8-pack, and told me he had a penchant for mature blonde women. I asked if that was natural or bottle but he said he didn’t really care as long as everything matched. So I suggested that she made sure she was a total blonde, and put her on a plane for Brazil. Yes I know Machu Pichu is in Peru but if she can play ‘jokes’…The blisters should have healed by the time she arrives.
In truth I actually do hope that a nice Brazilian Millionaire falls for her and tells her he can’t live without her, and she stays there. I’m not altogether cruel. She’s been blocking my next promotion to Chief Justice for England and Wales, she thinks I’m a loose canon, I’m a canon that shoots straight, hits the target, and always wins. This way we both win.
Hey ho. My dear friend Clarence has taken a break from political reporting on the grounds he’s bored to death, but I’m sure the Conservative leadership race, if something that seems to go at snail’s pace and involves a lot of hot air can be called a race, will bring him out of his funk and get him back on track. His ex remarried a man 20 years younger and he feels somewhat, diminished by the fact. I told him it’s nothing Viagra won’t cure, and he threw a book at me. Turns out he feels diminished because he’s a top reporter on one of the top channels. Not the BBC of course, they’re too suspect to be considered anything but…well…suspect. So it’s one of the others.
I’ll give you one clue, it should be called “News at around ten o’clock but not necessarily as we may put some other crap in front of it and it may be later, or much later but still definitely the same day. Even so, we will still call it News at Ten, and then everyone will go to bed an hour late and wonder why they’re so tired when their alarm goes off.” If you’re going to have a News at Ten guys then put it on at ten o’clock.
It’s like Question Time, that should be called “Question Avoidance and Waffle Time”. Ooh…that’s an idea….off to have a waffle!
Your font of all useless information
Mildred Scrunge
P.S. I’ve bought a cat!
Deb Hawken - Amorah 