Firstly welcome to all of those of you who are receiving this Newsletter for the first time through Linkedin.
Sadly for the rest of you who have been getting this via the other media channels namely email, WordPress, Facebook and Twitter, this is just another way of me pestering you into reading what little I have to say about what has happened in the last month.
It means that you’ll all be reading it apart from the celebrity ex-customer who asked me to unsubscribe him from the system.
By all accounts the majority of clicks of me in the red Lycra playsuit were down to him, and Diana the Huntress, who promptly forwarded the photo to all her friends.
I had dinner with Diana, Fiona and Jennifer on Saturday night chez La Wolseley, quelle surprise. It was to have been 4 guys and 3 girls, but the other men all bailed leaving me with the Three Graces. I’m sure I saw Diana dropping a little powdered Rhino horn into my drink. What is she trying to suggest, well the drink was an ‘Old Fashioned’!
The after dinner drinks took place at Browns Hotel bar, and the staff from Hix came out to usher me past, apparently my close friends and I are still barred entry, their loss not mine.
By the way, there were at least 3 other cocktails I could have called it, but I’ll leave those to your imagination.
Moving swiftly on, it has been a packed month, so much so that if the month had been made of Lycra, there would have been some very unsightly bulges.
Neil has been here from Ibiza, and I’ve worked out if I put that in early it gets his attention, otherwise he will just skim read it. More on Neil later and perhaps even a little Eugene as well.
You may ask why there are so few photos in this newsletter.
Well I haven’t taken any publishable photos since my last little missive a couple of weeks ago.
I hasten that I added the word publishable because of all the stick I was given for the little red Lycra number and wigs; I have to be careful what I post apparently, well at least according to one or two of you.
But the photos I have included are of some new stock.
Continuing the Lycra theme, Adam is running the Berlin Marathon and has devised a cunning plan, which will be almost Baldrickesque in its execution.
He has been testing a Velcro running suit and I have been helping him.
This has involved me running past him at high speed, he then hurls himself at me in an attempt to stick on; then I continue on again at high speed like Wile E Coyote and Roadrunner.
Now I will admit I have swerved a couple of times leaving him flat on his face on the pavement, but I just explained if he was going to latch onto a passing Kenyan in Berlin, he’d have to expect them to take some form of evasive action.
Still on the subject of Lycra, the other Neil my training buddy refused to run with me last week until I lent him a pair of sunglasses. Well I was wearing my super hi-vis, tight fitting top which has been designed to be visible from space and luminous pink running shoes. The only thing to separate them, were my Lycra leggings, which Emi thinks are much too tight. Well she shouldn’t be looking is all can say!
Anyway there wasn’t much chance of me getting run over wearing that little getup. One or two people driving white vans whistled at me and passed some rather off putting remarks, and a lady taxi driver wolf whistled me, making me nearly run into a tree, but catch me they couldn’t I was moving too fast.
I will not be posting photos of me in this outfit so you’ll have to get your jollies elsewhere, and also I think that the unsubscribed celebrity may now be stalking me; anyway I’m in training just in case Gwynnie decides that the look she gave me in The Wolseley, was more than just checking me out now that she may be single.
Back to Neil from Ibiza. He was here for a few days to collect his menagerie of dead animals, lights and trainers. We are like an old fashioned Western Trading Post. If you look hard enough you find all sorts of things.
Only yesterday I found a spider in the kitchen. Each time I went to pick him up and release him into the back garden it reared onto its hind legs, and lunged at me at knee height. OK, OK, I’m not that tall, but it was fearless. We battled for hours until I trapped it using a suit like Ripley in Alien.
Anyway back to Neil. It was a flying visit as I said so that he could pick up his purchases and head off to Copenhagen to see Eugene, and do a few tattoos. Neil had been suffering from the same virus as the rest of us; either that or he’d been on the lichen again, the serenity has returned to his furrowed brow.
Fortunately, it transpires that we will all be in Ibiza together for Easter. So this means more Lycra, but this time with inclusion of glo’ sticks and more tattoos. The beautiful Scratch will have missed her master, and the sun will now be warming her bones. A summer of partying beckons, and if you are headed for this paradise, let me know, I’ll tell you where I am and you’ll know where to avoid.
This weekend Perseus raised his head off the bathroom floor, pealed himself off the towel rail and returned to a state close to human. The 5 week binge was over and he was positively glowing, but then that could have been the lavishly applied fake tan, and I remember Naples when his legs were favourably compared to a cross between Rod and Penny’s by the Mail Online! Oh, you are so talented Mr Ripley.
And Richard if you have read this far…. 5km in 21minutes. That’s your target.
Ten things Vladimir Putin is least likely to say or do:
1: Walk bear chested into Balans at 3am and order a White Russian. (Or please insert any of the cocktails name you will have thought of earlier).
2: Sit at his desk stroking a white kitten on his lap a la Bond villain, it would have to be a Bengal Tiger.
3: I’m stopping at Crimea.
4: Up periscope.
5: Does my bum look big in this?
6: My favourite film is the version of La Cage aux Folles with Robin Williams.
7: Does that come in pink?
8: Don’t you have something a little smaller?
9: Silvio, Francois et moi, are The Three Mouseketeers
10: Did someone leave the gas on?
This newsletter has been sponsored by Velcro and Lycra.