Oh, the foolishness of drink II

I lost half of today. I spent the morning slightly hungover. And then made the mistake of grabbing a sandwich from a corner shop in Stockwell. One of those shops where the sandwiches are on the counter, and there’s a mad man standing outside on the phone, shouting hands-free to Jesus.

Now, I’ve heard people say “It’s not a hangover, it’s food-poisoning”, and never believed them, but, oh dear god… All of a sudden, at two in the afternoon, my body started compulsively vomiting. In an explosive and rather boring way that went on for hours.

The worst bit was going to a recording of The Now Show, and having to run out into the street to throw up. I found an empty parking space to heave into, and had a merciful few seconds of peace, before someone started parking their BMW. I staggered out of the way, and thankfully passed out for a bit. Then brushed myself off, and trotted into the recording.

Now, I’m blaming the sandwich, but also admitting that, if I hadn’t been a bit hungover, I wouldn’t have brought it. It was “sausage and creamed chicken” – only a fool would have bought it..

Oh, the foolishness of drink

I’ve promised to seduce a barman at a top London hotel next time he’s on shift and bored.

I can’t even remember his name. It was 79 CXR. He was rather too good-looking to be in there. There was vodka. And then one of those rather squalid rooms that nice hotels seem to delight in giving the poor sods who work for them.

Top celebrity fact:

Hannah Gordon can split an apple using one hand. She once did this in front of Sean Connery, who was amazed, “How can you do that? There’s barely a pint of you”

Script or Sauna?

Well, I didn’t get to read much of the scripts I had. Instead, I got distracted by Paul, a rather nice man fron Hungary, who claimed to have come to the sauna “just for the detox”. If so, his detoxing regimen is unusual, demanding, and far-reaching.
Like nearly everyone in London, he’s a waiter. He’s fully-trained as a chemist, and would love to work as a lab technician – but waiters get paid more and the hours are better. When he moved over here, he split up with his boyfriend, who he’s still missing.

PAUL: His name is Martin.
ME: My old boss was called Martin.
PAUL: Sexy name. I cannot here it without thinking about him. Wild and passionate.
ME: I just think of a lovely cuddly bear of a man it was surprisingly easy to deceive.
PAUL: That too.

Weirdly, I’m seeing him again next Monday. He likes me. Or, as he put it. “Martin good name. James also good name.”

Stereotype?

We're moving office next year. Our business head just came and asked me if I'd like to look round the new office. "Yer know. To talk about paint colours, furnishings, wall hanging and... uh... fabrics and stuff. It's, ah, your area, isn't it?"

Oh. Right.

I'll turn up with a beret, a small dog and a quiche.

Foolish modern agony!

It's underwear night at the sauna. And I promised a friend I'd go...

...But, some really important scripts have turned up that I'm dying to read.

Do I change my plans...?

... Or do I try and combine the two?

It could be an ideal combination - after all, it beats reading Boyz on those sun lounger things...

... Or it could go disastrously wrong. After all, it's bad enough leaving scripts on a train...

Miss Marple Review

Miss Marple's best friend, Dolly Bantry, writes:

It's so charming - simply charming - to find oneself back onscreen. And how adorable that I'm now played by Joanna Lumley! Wonderful!

And what of my dear Jane Marple, now played by Geraldine McEwen? Oh, isn't she utterly marvellous? Mind like a hatchet, though her posture suggests that she's left the coat-hanger in her swishy cardie. And what an adventure! All that chasing around in splendid hats and drinking. There was even a special leather riding bonnet for Jane that was last seen on Wallace and Gromit - or was it left over from when that Rutherford gorgon was staying in St. Mary Mead? Who can say?

Well, it's hardly surprising as nowadays old-fashioned crime has to be quaint, sparkling and frothy like that ersatz champagne so adored by those lovely bachelor men Who Dance At The Other End of The Ballroom. Brilliant!

How lovely it is to be in a world that's always sunny, and the drinks are always flowing, and the men are just so, so... well, let me just say, one of the suspects was the adorable Jamie Theakston, and every one else was simply too, too famous to be there!

Even dear Simon Callow - d'you think it was piles or a St. Vitus Dance he was suffering from during filming? One just can't tell! But, how divine to see him literally hopping from foot to foot during his scenes, seemingly longing for the lavatory - which had been probably been stuffed with a fake body and burnt down. Probably by lesbians. Oh, simply divine!

And a marvel to see that old friend of ours, Day-For-Night Filming - who I hadn't seen since the Children's Film Foundation in the 70s. So nice to be getting work again - though one cad suggested that it was because we'd drunk away the budget! Cruel, cruel, cruel.

How marvellously talented and novel it all was. Especially when they changed the ending (and a murderer) by introducing thrillingly modern lesbianism! Well, my dears, none of us batted an eyelid (except for dear Mr Callow, who by that point was batting everything). But, honestly - how reassuring to see that all *that sort* are wickedly evil. I'd never have guessed. TV producers, my dears, minds like sinks.

Anyway, I really must attend to the garden. The begonias are divine at this time of year! But before I hurry off my dears, one little secret - yes, you were correct. Every time Jane and I were having a cup of tea, there was gin in it!

Marple, currently running on Sunday evenings on The Other Channel. As soothing as cocoa with a slight tang of almonds.

(PS: Wonder what the copyright is on reproducing stuff I write at work?)

Nicole Kidman: A fabulous letter

Dear Nicole,

Frankly, your latest attempt to pay off your Matalan store card is a little desperate.

Luv,
The Gays

PS: We remember when you dissed skivvy perfumes, and said you made your own out of vanilla. Bet you smelled like a candle. Now you look like one.

The way I walk

It's a two minute trot from Euston to my flat. I managed to pull on the walk home on Saturday night.

Can this really be the first time I've done this? But how marvellous - it was just like one of those Monty Python "do you want to come back to mine?" sketches.

He was Spanish, cute, courteous, and in bed within ten minutes. His sexual technique was disappointingly unlike the rest of him. Remember those fifties exercise belts that ladies used to wear, jiggling and grinning away madly? Yeah. Rather like that.

Strictly Come Dancing

Our fabulous security guards proved how this has now entered the nation's bosoms. They're two nice, burly blokes of a certain age, and on Saturday they were hotly debating who would win.

TED: Now Julian, now, he's not a dancer, but I'm glad he's in.

JON: Yeah, but I'm glad of a bit of light relief before Jill wins. It's good balance.

TED: Jill? You mean Denise.

JON: Denise? How can you say that? She's got the moves, yeah, but not the sparkle.

TED: Don't you start - She's got charisma. Don't you remember her doing the jive? Now, she came alive in the jive...