posted 28 September 2002 08:26 PM            

Here's things I've done lately.

1. Flying to New Orleans on Friday 13th my plane fell 10,000 feet in a sixth of a second, or maybe six seconds, and, though we landed safely eventually, I am never, ever going to fly in an aeroplane again. This could prove a bit of a problem since I'm many thousands of miles away from home. Maybe my home has just changed continents. I've also acquired a new - or newer - attitude to life that involves the words 'fuck', 'dont', 'give' and 'a' in no particular order.

2. In line with my new transportation policy I meandered slowly from New Orleans to the next Springsteen gig in Denver by car. In the small New Mexico town of Truth or Consequences (somewhere I've always wanted to visit since I first saw it on a map) I murdered my first hooker. Don't worry, she had no close friends or relatives. And we didn't have penetrative sex - while she was alive - so that's okay. (© Democrat Gary Condit)

3. Reaching Minneapolis-St. Paul where I had been hired to write speeches and handle the press for the Republican Senate contender I was bitten by a mosquito the size of a small flying dog and contracted either West Nile Virus or, more hopefully, malaria. A cheap doctor tended to me and declared me dead. A more expensive doctor was summoned and he upgraded my status to alive. (Joke for lsg there)

4. Invalided back to the great Republican state of Wisconsin I recuperated under the tender ministrations of my nubile and now legal next door neighbour, Angela, who provided a particularly tasty brand of chicken and brandy soup. We didn't have penetrative sex - without rubber - so that's okay. (© Democrat Bill Clinton) Eventually my wife - who seems to believe that poorly working class shits in the Greater Manchester area are more deserving of her attention then her husband - arrived at my sickbed and turfed Angela out.

5. Visiting the Treehouse for the first time for ages I discovered that you had completely ignored my impassioned entreaty not to post pictures of Crabstock. I already know that the rest of you - well, those among you who, for some unfathomable reason, insist on photographing each other - are hideously ugly, scruffy, fat and seedy-looking characters because I've seen you before. But you, andrew, I held out more hope for. I desperately wanted you to be Herbert Lom, or at least a close approximation. But you are in fact the bloke who hangs around outside the Bridgewater Hall just before concerts bumming loose change. And you owe me that two quid that you said was a deposit for a blanket and which you instead spent on industrial strength cider. I followed you to the off license, chum. I then resolved that the whole damn bunch of you were not worth hanging around with, even virtually. People of my status have standards, you know.
PS. Mick, there's no chance there'll be a remake of Coppola's Dracula (the first one was rubbish) so I wouldn't waste any more time hanging around Whitby looking like that if I was you.

6. And then - because you're surprisingly hard to drop quite so gratuitously - I popped back in and (thanks to Sub-atomic Katt) learned that I am, in equal proportions, despised, adored and unmissed. So I'll hang around for a while yet to get one of those columns (probably the first) up to 100%. I guess from Mr T's post that I've been more widely discussed in another thread but obviously I can't be bothered wading through all the shit on pages 2 onwards so could someone point me straight to it please.

7. And if my housesitter Geoffrey's reading this - I can't get a reply from the phones, mate. I want you to courier me the "package" that's on the LEFT edge of the SECOND shelf from the TOP at the back of the boat house. Phone the SIXTH number down on the board by the phone in the kitchen - I have an account, the code's alongside - and they'll collect within TWO hours.

8. There's no number 8 really. But the number 8 looks a bit like you Jane so I thought I'd include it. I know the received wisdom is that dark colours flatter you "bonnier" people but it's not true. Can I suggest pale green or pink?

9. There's no number 9 really either except to say that Edwina Currie, the popular novelist and radio personality who's all over the Chicago Tribune for God's sake, may seem unusually honest for a politician but is actually no such thing. She's made her serialisation very lucrative with her Major revelation (which everyone who's interested in such stuff already knew) but she seems to have forgotten her other sordid casting-couch liaisons with - in date order (during the period I was abreast of these things and excluding non-politicians) - Nicholas Edwards, Lady (Janet) Young, Michael Heseltine, Paul Channon, Leon Brittan, Cecil Parkinson, Ken Baker, John MacGregor, John Moore, John Wakeham, Ken Clarke, Norman Fowler, Peter Brooke, Malcolm Rifkind, John Selwyn Gummer, Michael Jopling, Chris and John Patten and Virginia and Peter Bottomley.

posted 29 September 2002 11:21 AM            

Increasingly gung-ho and right-wing as his stay in the states continues.

posted 29 September 2002 07:43 PM            

The views expressed in this email are the views trevd only and in no way reflect the opinion of the management.

posted 30 September 2002 02:56 AM            

I'm absolutely appalled. From the top...

I assume Yellow Sub is well-known Beatles apologist Dead Elrond. Hooray!

(But dull-witted people who have a pop at me can, from now on, expect to be shafted. So beware, Mick. Yawn.)

richardx - sod creative writing, go to the 'spelrite' class first.

Of course I noticed you, S-a K, that's a very enjoyable moniker.

Thommo, you're very sad indeed.

Vixen, you're far too emotional. As we've discussed (privately) it's about time you moved on, okay?

posted 30 September 2002 07:58 AM         

I shall ignore your immature 'shafted' edict just this once if offered an apology.

posted 30 September 2002 10:01 AM            

(PS Your missus is a bit of alright)

posted 30 September 2002 02:12 PM            

West Ham = v. good
spurs v boro = v. good (ongoing office banter)
europe v usa = v. good
My son's first football match = not so good

posted 30 September 2002 02:26 PM            

Just got confirmation that in the great film character giveaway I am (forever and a day)...

NATHAN LANDAU.

Who he, you're asking.

Anyone who knows (without checking the imdb) wins an exciting and mysterious prize.

posted 30 September 2002 02:40 PM            

Warriors beat Cas in Play Offs
Greenhalgh's pies and cakes still best
Rovers OK but keep getting injured
Indian Summer forecast to last
New rowing boat tax dismissed as a hoax
Southerners still under impression that Phoenix Nights is fiction

posted 30 September 2002 05:08 PM            

Marcus: I've been loyally applauded your posts for ages, but this is an internet message board for people who want to enjoy themselves. Slagging off CJ's dress sense? Who is that supposed to appeal to? Only queens and Cecil Beaton do that, Marcus, and if you've ever met CJ then you will do well to practise quaking in your Jimmy Choo's.

Don't spoil everything. The funniest thing I've ever read is the World Cup Diaries, but you've made me side with Trevd on this one.

First time I posted I called RossMc a ****. I now know he's as funny as Bribox, which is as high a compliment as I know.

posted 30 September 2002 07:13 PM            

(And he's considerably funnier than Chris Evans)

posted 30 September 2002 08:17 PM            

come on man, just say sorry.

Next time you want to take the piss out of someone, aim it at me - I'm used to it.

But for a funny chap you appear to enjoy barbs too much to be nice as well.

posted 30 September 2002 08:22 PM            

His posts are funny enough now and again (though the World Cup/Ferguson ones really were the thinnest of gruels worked to death, darling). So let the poor boy have his fun.