A St Valentine’s Day Special

This particular newsletter is rated PG.

Which thankfully means there are no photos!

I have written this to all of those of you who have to be Jamie Oliver in the kitchen, David Gandy in the gym, as sensitive as Ted Zeff and a Christian Grey in the bedroom (or any other room, inside or out). Yes you get the picture, and I think to myself. Me? Me? Me?

I have been reliably informed that the restaurants of London will be empty tonight.

There’s a new boy in town and he’s wearing grey, quite a lot of grey, in fact to be precise 50 different shades.

Gone is the usual romantic dinner, where the last hour is spent fending off young men offering you roses in order that you can cement your love for the person who is sat opposite you. Or at least be like the cement, and get laid.

Apparently there are only two places to be this evening.

Firstly, at the Shadow Theatre Clarendon Street where a friend will be offering a Valentine theatrical treat in the form of a Kabuki production. A neighbour of his has been selling tickets ready for a play which can often involve grotesque masks and facial expressions, performed partly behind a blind with only the shadowy outline of the figures visible. I leave the rest to your imagination until the curtain comes up or down, depending on your perspective.

Secondly, and for the less squeamish amongst you, it seems that everybody else is off to see 50 Shades of Grey. Apart from someone who has now admitted to seeing it last night. Yes, you know who you are and despite stating the contrary I know you loved it!

Well, the things they don’t teach you round the back of the bike sheds at school these days.

Guys, I know one or two of you feel press ganged into this. No, I mean press ganged!

Oooh, the minds of some of you! Anyway, if you don’t want to be recognised wear one of the Kabuki masks, and then you can nip round to the Shadow Theatre later!

If the worst comes to the worst and you find yourself slightly incapacitated, imagine you are Bond. No, no, no.

Not tied to a chair being assaulted by a person with a length of knotted rope, which I know may work for one or two of you. Rather act out a scene from 50 Shades.

And if you are in real trouble it may be time to use the last resort of any spy worth his salt in this predicament and bite down hard on that molar. No, not the one containing the cyanide things aren’t that bad yet, but the one containing the emergency Blue pill, and ‘Hey Presto’ you are ready for action!

That is apart from J, I use only his initial, if I used his full name it would make it too obvious who this person is. J turns up in the shop every time he gets stood up by whichever boy or girl he has a date with, bottle of white wine in hand, telling me that I’m all he has left.

Now this is someone who should be press ganged aboard a boat, but this one needs no second invitation!

I personally will be auditioning for 50 Shades of Just for Men, the sequel, and yes it will involve my wearing 50 shades of Lycra.

I hope you all have wonderful evening with the one you love, and may cup of love runneth over.

Vash pour me another!

 

Copyright © 2015 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

 

November Newsletter 2014

New Stock follows this Newsletter,however this one includes at least one image you will find disturbing!

One of the reasons for the tardiness was the death of my Aunt Kathleen aged 96 years and 364 days, peacefully in her sleep. If you would be kind enough to read the newsletters posted just before this one, both she and I would be very happy and you will get a sense from whence the madness stems!

I am sending this out on the biggest party night of the year, with the exception of New Year, so that you will all have something to stare at bleary-eyed during tomorrow’s hangover. Remember joyfully that I don’t suffer from them!

To those of you sipping on Dom Perignon and Krug, don’t overdo it, save a bottle for me.

Basket Case

Basket Case

Had to get that photo out of the way; Paul and Ines, I am speechless, but that’s because I have a brownie in my mouth.

Well I have had to start again, I somehow managed to delete, even in this auto saved world, the draft of the newsletter.

It was going to be the greatest one yet, the funniest, the one most likely to reduce you to tears of joy and tears of sadness. My “Cinquanta sfumature di Grigio”, più piselli Norma.

But sadly the dog ate my homework, the collection was stolen from the warehouse the night before it was to be shown, the cheque is in the post!

I could of course have copied one from before and would you have known the difference? Probably not. So this one is BARKING!

The newsletter is now read in 110 countries, and I am stalked on several social media sites in several more, you know who you are, and so do I.

No it wasn’t the little green spiders in Coogan’s Bluff, wasn’t Tisha Sterling gorgeous, and mental!

I hadn’t shared anything with Neil or Eugene, it all started much earlier.

Any excuse for a photo!

Tisha Sterling

Tisha Sterling

For those who don’t believe that I am mad, here is my Santa outfit. Now you could have had this as a Christmas card, now where did I hide that Werther’s Original.

Santa Lycra

Santa Lycra

 

That’s my kind of Christmas Onesie, my David Gandy look.

Like comparing me to David Gandy, life often looks as though it’s going to offer diamonds and ends up giving you bricks. This happened recently happened when I hired a car. The guys at Avis excitedly told me they’d upgraded my car to a BMW 4 series with an M specification.

Pah! M spec meant leather interior and heated seats. If I wanted heated seats, I’d wriggle around a little. The engine was a 2 litre diesel and automatic gearbox had four settings Eco (very kind to bunnies), Comfort (Werther’s Original), Sport (Tear the skin off a rice pudding, just), and Sport with all the driving aids turned off (Tear the skin off a rice pudding, but just don’t try going round a corner at anything over the speed limit), as if I would! All show, and no go.

Ahhh, I’ve just remembered what I’d started writing in the other Newsletter that I lost.

Starlings, they don’t like poppadums!

I tried to find a photo of the two together, failed miserably therefore it must be true.

Thank you Reggie Perrin, I’d forgotten. Not only is the madness hereditary, it has been absorbed by the process of osmosis using society’s semi-permeable membrane; television, and a diet of Monty Python and Reginald Perrin.

I also predict; come the first warming rays of sun in springtime we will see the demise of the beard. The reason, well not only do starlings not like poppadums; they won’t nest in beards, mainly because the guys put up one heck of fight when the starlings start their murmation.

And all because I liked this photo.

Murmation

Murmation

Later in the month I will publish a list of trends for next year, some ups, some downs and a few things that are not likely to change.

Hopefully we will sense and get rid of things such as Black Friday, replace it with either Dodgeball,or Rollerball, both of which will be much safer.

In the not too distant future Black Fridays will no longer exist, but there will be Rollerball.

In the not too distant future Black Fridays will no longer exist, but there will be Rollerball.

The footage was fascinating, disturbing and funny all at the same time. We of course do not stoop so low as to offer a Black Friday event, our wine tastings offer a similar experience with alcohol involved.

A big thank you to all who attended, the next one will take place in January, when you are all supposed to be dry.

Wolf who is a regular is big into 3D printing has produced a Christmas Quiz which will be mailed out with the Christmas Newsletter. Don’t worry he does get out a little and is headed to LA and NYC for the festivities.

Now a little plug.

I have a friend and it is not Wolf, who is starting to produce 3D printed chess pieces from his own CAD files.

Here are some examples, maintaining the bird theme.

Rook and Pawns

Rook and Pawns

 

Copyright © 2014 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.