Did that get the heart beating? No? Never mind, she’s retiring now.
Je t’aime je t’aime, oui je t’aime
Moi non plus
Oh mon amour
Comme la vague irrésolue
Je vais, je vais et je viens
Entre tes reins
Je vais et je viens entre tes reins
Et je me retiens
Who says big biz has no sense of humour?
Guess who’s buying the baby formula giant! The owner of Durex. That’s all about preparing for the worst, I suppose. Buy me and stop one or if not……….
This is your Court correspondent, reporting on the life and work of Snowdon, just call him Tony.
Of course those society snappers faced awful temptations. Some resisted, I’m sure; others, like Tony, indulged. But (again of course, given the the tempora and the mores) the extent of the indulgence was never revealed.
After Meg succumbed to the curse of her cigs, Tony continued to bat for both sides, taking his latest handsome squeezes to be entertained to dinner by ‘friends’.
A full-colour fella, eh? RIP.
Some like to disparage
MEP Nigel Farage
Especially the friends of EU.
And bremaining detractors
Won’t welcome the fact, as
He graces the Upper House too.
The only examples we see tend to be vulgar or worse. The Rev himself however is quoted as uttering amusing confusions which did not depend on smut.
So do you know any new ones?
Coincidentally I saw a real, live footie player today who rejoices in the name of Connor Wickham. So? you ask. Well, when spoonerised he is (yes) Wonnor Cickham! How appropriate, eh? OR he’s a NY chef with limited skills: Cinnor Wockham. Sorry.
So now it’s your turn. People are the best subjects. Laters…..
Harold Wilson never had to deal with this. In his day it was a piece of paper (not plastic). And will some nerd tell me who this particular J.C. is, please?
It’s been a while since I reported on the royals. Probably because Kate can do no wrong and Wills is doing his best, bless him.
But sources tell me that the PoW is side-lining his rapacious brother whose strings are obviously still being jerked by the inimitable Fergie. Andy’s been whining about his daughters’ having to work for living – which they seem do do but rather spasmodically – arguing that the Heir’s lads are fully subsidised royals. With his nose well and truly out of joint, Andy asked HM the Queen to intercede on his behalf – and got what can only be described as the bum’s rush from the Palace too.
Come on girls! Use your natural talents, tap into Daddy’s well-oiled connections, marry well – and Chuck’s your uncle!
It’s meant a lot of work and determination but worth every ounce. I refer of course to a grandparent’s input to a grandchild’s GCSE results, published yesterday!
My most senior of ten did all the requisite academic subjects and (Jazz note) the really useful Textiles Technology, well suited to the distaff side methinks. 😷
So I can relax again until next year when another young lady shows her paces.
As an aspiring writer, my big breakthrough piece of fiction is still unwritten, I have always wanted to visit the Cheltenham Literature Festival. The chance to hob-nob with fellow unpublished sorts and to see in the flesh real authors would be happiness unbound.
Mingling at social gatherings with the lit-set I would forgo the glasses of bubbly on the trays and demand a beer from the Jeeves-like waiter. After all, With Faulks’ powers faltering, I’m the next big thing in town. I’d also ask Jeeves for the big daddy of vol-au-vents, a scotch pie. And I’d tell him to drown the pastry with Bertie Worcester sauce. Read more…