borrowed/nicked from moby's blog (http://www.moby.com/journal)
"...Being British is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for a Belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing an Indian curry or a Turkish kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch American shows on a Japanese TV. And the most British thing of all? Suspicion of anything foreign...".
made me laugh so much
had a good week for funny stuff
waiiting to be served in a bar the other afternoon idly flicking through a copy of The Guardian i came across a column written by Maureen Lipman
i have been a fan for years - she just makes me laugh so much and her husband wrote excellent TV plays - Ptang Yang Kipperbang - Spend Spend Spend - Barmitzvah Boy
in case you are not from around here i should maybe explain who Maureen Lipman is - an actress (you might know her as Julie Walters girlfiend in Educating Rita) - she has done loads of theatre and written very funny books - some of it is her turn of phrase and some of it is her ability to tell a good story - anyway i had no idea she wrote a column - we only read The Guardian/Observer on the weekends
i went online and found loads of columns wot she had wrote - i was in laughter heaven for a couple of hours - wanna see some of what i mean? course you do
i suppose technically it is nicking stuff but with the good intention of spreading the word about this talented and funny lady - so i apologise and if Ms Lipman or her lawyers ever object i will of course remove them (http://www.guardian.co.uk then search for Maureen Lipman to find the full articles)
here are a few of my favourites:
All this reminds me of the time, years ago, when a friend of mine, over dinner, handed his sweet old mum a list of words to read out as a sort of party game. I know it wasn't kind and we shouldn't have laughed, but it was hilarious at the time and, in fairness, she never really did know why. The assembled guests got more and more helpless as her perplexity grew. The list of words was: whale, oil, beef and hooked. Please do not try this at home.
I loved the artist John Fisher's paintings of writers' rooms. I couldn't decide between two and had a blinding flash of Jack, my late husband, saying, "What's the matter with you? You work like a dog! Treat yourself, for heaven's sake. If you like them, have 'em." This from a man whom, when I suggested in Italy that he bought himself some shoes, looked at me and said in all seriousness, "But I've got shoes, love - a black pair and a brown pair."
On Sunday I drove to Amersham to the 90th birthday party of actress Dulcie Gray. Jack always used to drive and I did the map, so I chickened out and used the new satellite navigator. "Cross the roundabout and take the first turn off" is not an instruction I can follow, and I ended up lost on the M25 with the sat nav saying, over and over, "Turn around at first opportunity" then sulking when I didn't. With some cruelty, I put it in the glove compartment where spookily it continued to chunter on. Finally in Amersham Old Town, I did what my mother always did - and it used to make me shrivel with embarrassment - I smiled helplessly and asked a nice man to drive in front of me till I found the house. And he did!
number one guest at my ultimate dinner party