Absinthe Minded : Miss Duke's Webcam
February 4th
Bored. Walked down to the foyer and struck Captain Jones up in conversation. The Captain is not only the doorman at my building, he was also an indispensable source of tittle tattle on the other residents, and often carries one home in the event of passing out in the foyer.
It seems that Miss Duke in Flat 9 has
been interviewed on Polish televison!
According to the Captain,
who listens in to her doings with the aid of the old heating pipes, she is a big thing in Ibizan "technical dance" clubs.
Duke
has a webcam placed in her flat allowing dancers to log off and observe
her life. Why anyone would wish to watch the old chestnut smoking
gitannes and shouting at the guests on the Trisha Show is beyond me.
Apparently at 21;00 hours precisely every day she sings the Polish
national anthem! Why is this?.She was born in
Rill and is as English as a custard cream.
February 8th
Turned on the old television set in the dining room for the first time in months. Fiddling about found a channel showing nothing but Crown Court, the 70's afternoon drama. Most agreeable viewing whilst eating eggs Benedict.
Highness arrived at noon with news. Bad news.
Lasso Tie Systems Inc is being sued by thousands of Ukrainian dependents of those strangled by the Bulgarian contraption in 1972. The Lasso was extremely popular after it was rumored Brezhnev owned one; a rumour started by none other than the dastardly Petri Fides on a radio chat show.
Frightful drama at our Kiev office and must send funds to pay for security guards for office wallahs. Ukranian's making a big stink and blaming yours truly! Most unfair as never heard of deadly Lasso Tie before a few weeks back...now up before the beaks with a 1000 uncivil suits. Awful suits.
Relief of Mafeking: Highness informs
that a Nigerian lawyer he knows can frustrate the litigants and thereby push up the price on the "Change. Hong Kong investors waiting to bite like caged tiger. Annoying,
must remit ten grand to the Nigerian wig by Western Union...Edna
won't like it.
February 9th
Highness informs that Papa Doc has now got wind of the Lasso deal and is trying to throw his hat in the ring...no surprise there. Papa D has always been a silent predator in many of the dealings that Highness and I have had over the years. The business with the Japanese submarine, the kosher ice cream fiasco and so on...devilish fella always popped up and ruined things. Cunning little fellow, short with wirey hair and a liking for drip dry shirts, I hear.
Highness and I share several absinthe frappes and speculate about the future.
February 10th
The stress of the Lasso tie affair begins to tell .....as have a nasty headache and disturbing dreams. Pop over to see Doctor Ranter – aka Dr Death...so christened by Miss Duke, who claims that Ranter tells patients they are fine whether they be ill or no. Apparently, the Doctor does not like being disturbed by patients during daylight hours. Fellow is addicted to American TV shows which he watches all day long. Duke smokes 40 a day and can't be relied on for toffee.
Ranter rushes me out of the surgery and tells me I need to drink more tea. The receptionist looks
doleful and says “EE ARR” as I hand over the readies to settle
the bill. Most odd...is she a Somerset lass I ponder? No, they are rather
gutteral or is that Corns of Truro? Cornish lingo.. Fatla genes?
means “how do” but nobody speaks it anymore! So about as much use
as knowing the address of Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen's tailor,...E
Pluribus Unum.
Llewelyn Bowen, you say? Fawnish chap – bad type to have in a brigade of men as tends to create strife before attack on the Mau Mau position; hysterical and self centered like a walnut whip.
Return home and have a sun downer at 4.00 – absinthe and a spot of ham and eggs. The ginger cat is lurking in the communal garden...damned thing seems trained in giving one dirty looks. Captain Jones drops by and requests that I loan him a wager on Salmon Sid – a greyhound running that very evening in Whitechapel. I concur.
Absinthe drink bottle is empty and so open a new one.
February 12th
Highness reveals that I am Public Enemy Number One in Zimbabwe (after Mugabe) where the Lasso tie arrived in the 1980's after being banned elsewhere. Seemingly the mechanical ties were very popular for wedding guests!!
The result of this popularity was mass
killing; the females naturally assuming that the menfolk were down
wind of the sherry trifle.. as they were slowly choked during the
nuptial festivities. Will cost an extra couple of grand to
temporarily placate the Rhodesian contingent and Roland will
trade within the week. Is Mugabe involved somehow?
February 13th
Received letter from Carstairs at the bank. The old harpy refusing to honour cheque made out to Mrs Hutu Lola Umbargo in respect on ongoing saga of Highness' safety box in Abyssinia ( which full of bonds, jewels and the like.) Umbargo demanded the fee to release the box; some blighter has altered cheque and now reads 100,000 rather than 10,000. Most peculiar - got on blower to Highness who promised to investigate.
Is Carstairs, (Edna Mrs) up to old tricks ... trying to get claws on Highness' tight sealed box? Tricky customer always looking to outflank a chap trying to make an honest crust. Suits are pulling her strings, big conspiracy against yours truly. Carstairs like devilish female pirate waiting to plunder my hull.
Jones drops by and informs that “my dog” was a dead loss. Was not aware that I was backing Salmon Sid, but apparently the case. New certainty at Cardiff Dog Track name of Bubbles Bad...Jone's informs that the hound is German and has a “special diet”....100 on BB for a bit of sport 50/50 with Jones...prices later.
Aunty Petal in Nairobi sends a postcard of a Zebra with inscription “ Warning: If you cannot think of anything constructive to say kindly restrict your conversation to the weather and the state of the roads” Obviously peeved about the pot holes again. Eventful day and thus put feet up with an absinthe or 3.
February (can't remember as stain in journal from absinthe spillage)
Matter of leg, artificial not “of mutton” variety finally... solved. Leg was discovered in bedroom after New Year's festivities. Leg belonged to Old Mary – barking mad artist a.k.a “Contrary” who has a studio in Charlotte Street.
According to the tobacconist, Mr Goiter, Contrary presented it to yours truly in Giles & Olivia Wine Bar as act of “artistic subversion” with the words “because your are less”.... erstaz Salvador Dali but rather drole. Contrary found artifical limb in a skip and signed it before presenting it in the vino bar....apparently one used it as a conductors baton during “Ol Lang Syme” and destroyed the chandelier. Thus Giles and Olivia seemed to have barred poor old me.......
Saw Heather Mills shopping in Harvey Nicks ; reminded of line from Shakers : “Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.” Exact oppo in HM's case as reminds one of a still life with old prune and stale Garibaldi biscuit (the one everybody secretly loathes...but passes itself 'orf as classy in the family selection) Tell you who is a cracker though....buxom blonde act on “How Clean is Your House” on television set....reminds one of those glorious matron types from the Continent but 100% English fillet steak by the looks of.
Had an absinthe and got back to thinkers on blonde lady...by third absinthe was also ruminating on bath full of strawberry jelly and custard..........Cleopatra used to bathe in asp milk..good for the skin..milky white like an absinthe after cold water added. Absinthe Spa...one gets to bathe in absinthe ...note to self: write to George Melly regarding opening of Absinthe themed turkish bath in Battersea....top flight ideas whilst liquored up...as always.
Never switch on television set these days due to inexplicable presence of vitriolic Scots – Colin and Justin – work for monkey nuts one assumes...talentless duo full of empty gestures ...sound and fury and signifying nothing....ghastly.... robbed of chance to see classy cleaner due to avoiding Caledonia crap.
What is Des O' Connor doing on Countdown?....my vote ( as Robert Morley is sadly not with us) is for Russell Grant - but nobody listens to the loyal viewer. Dashed blue rinse brigade...rule afternoon television set. Russell Grant is a fabulous fellow – had a giggle to self about smutty joke name play on planet...was it mars in jupiter?
Recall something about backside...the moon maybe! Dashed annoyed that joke had got mixed up with other mess in closet called brain. Must do a tidy out. Big woolly jumpers and quite chubby...splendid ...nice fellow to share an absinthe with and have a chin wag about planets and that sort of thing. Little known fact about the poodle is that it is good hunting dog.
If Russell is too busy then why not ask Alexei Sayle? Fellow is an author and musician; I enjoy playing his song "Hello John" at bridge evenings.
February 17th
Extraordinary thing. See Jones and Highness in cafe on Sloane Street laughing and Highness handing money to Welsh balm pot. Must warn Highness about placing wagers with Jones – not aware that two were acquainted, rather miffed. Pull up collar on Burberry riding mac and merge with the crowds to avoid eye contact.
Asked Highness about matter of cheque altering alleged by Edna at bank. As per usual the suspicious old crow wrong about Mrs Hutu Lola Umbargo! Highness explains that said lady believed cheque was in Abyssinian Gongs (local currency) and that 100,000 gongs is 10,000 quid. Dear Mrs Hutu not wanting to cause cultural offense had altered it to avoid any embarrassment. Ghastly Edna at bank causing storm on sea of international trade!
Highness suggests that Edna is trying to muscle in on the box affair ... maybe working with African suits to prevent Highness from getting jewels, bonds etc.
Nigerian wig keeping Lasso Tie Affair under wraps needs more money. Highness claims that bad luck is due to a curse; that I should seek help about having it lifted from a gypsy. How does a fellow find a gypsy? Highness ruminates and suggests that I ask “that doorman”...meaning Jones. Suddenly dawns on me!! Highness concerned for wellbeing of yours truly - has secretly met with Jones and arranged for gypsy to lift curse. Royalty you see...nobles oblige...dashed splendid fellow.
Get rather tipsy with Highness drinking bottle of absinthe; throw a bread roll at the ginger cat as damned fellow lurks in shrubs. Fellow has an eye on it that would send a chill through Hades. Enjoy an evening of merriment as Duke drops by with a steak and kidney pie, and we three share the treat with a spot of the bongo juice, absinthe.
Duke lets slip that she's now flaunting herself on YouTube and invited to Rio de Janeiro Carnival to appear on a float. Feisty old dame is the Duke, Vera Lynn with knobs on; rousing chorus of "White Cliffs of Dover" causes visitation from Jones and even more damage to the absinthe supply! Happy times.