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Plane evidence

July 9, 2012

Who would have children? I have made it clear to mine that they were their mother’s idea and I had very little to do with their conception. Much as I love them now, having to reject an invitation last night to dine with the most stylish man to emerge from the sixties, Anthony “Dock Of the” Bay, and his impossible young and gorgeous wife, Amanda ? because we had previously promised to take the sprogs out for a meal, stuck in my craw. Anthony may have been wearing either his bottle green crushed velvet suit, or maybe his silk Indian house coat, both undoubtedly fantastic photo opportunities for this column, and, as he is not yet a customer of Currencies Direct, I would have had a chance of converting him.

He mentioned that he had considered sending me an email expressing dissatisfaction about our non-appearance. It was to have taken the theme of “how dare a grammar school oik refuse a gracious invitation from a former public schoolboy”, but had decided against it as he thought it might appear in a slightly edited form in this daily column, but nothing could be further from the truth. It would have been heavily edited.

Anthony was, of course, present at the lunch at the turn of the year at the Auberge St Donat when a number of public schoolboy bullies held me down and forcibly removed my luxuriant beard, and then claimed it was an accident. Indeed it was from this lunch that Mr Clipbeard had his named changed from Mr Clipboard. Anthony claimed that he never took part in this event but I was able to show him this rather grainy photograph taken on the day which forms the basis of the case for the prosecution.

Food fight?

The physical assault on my person on that day had very little to do with my beard, minor irritant that it was intended to be, but was in fact rooted in jealousy. My first book had just been published, to considerable acclaim at least in this blog. Many of these chaps consider the whole idea of a self-made man like myself, from what they consider to be a lower caste, writing and publishing a book, to be an affront, which required punishment or at least a little humiliation. Mr Clipbeard had bought a copy and then proceeded ritually to torture and eventually destroy it. This would have hurt had he not paid for it, but a sale is a sale. The book, a living, vibrant commentary about the lives of the idle rich in Valbonne, was then the subject of an attack, which I felt as if it was my own soul being abused. Fire was used,  one of my genitals (one of which they claimed was visible on the front cover – in fact it was my knee) was attacked and many pages were ripped out and used as paper planes. Anthony claimed that he did not involve himself, but when I found and showed him the incontrovertible evidence in this photo he changed his story, saying that he was merely passing the paper plane, shown in his hand, back to a fellow public schoolboy, but in the time-honoured “food fight” manner to which these chaps are clearly accustomed. It is a shaky defence and one that I intend to destroy in much the way my book was destroyed.

I expect to be back at the scene of this attack tomorrow lunchtime after the Moustachioed Old Gits (the MOGS) have once again dismissed the challenged to play tennis with Nick “Trousers Down” Davies and Mr Clipbeard which will be followed by the traditional lunch. They are under the illusion that the MOGs can be beaten but they have the same brittle confidence of a certain taciturn Scotsman who was once again a loser at Wimbledon yesterday.

Chris France

5 Comments leave one →
  1. Rev. Jeff permalink
    July 9, 2012 3:28 pm

    I suspect that you enjoyed the ritual humiliation dished out by the gloating public schoolboys much more than you are prepared to admit. After all you you bring it up at the least provocation. Methinks the blogger doth protest too much and it’s well known that the subconscious is a very strange animal ! You always did have something of a soft (?) spot for the rather dubious ditty ‘Where’s that fag ? One doesn’t need to be Sherlock to work this one out !


    • July 9, 2012 4:28 pm

      You are referring to that very fine group The Anal Surgeons, and their song “Where’s That Fag” a critique of the public school system, with which you know I was involved in the mid 1970’s. It Ill beholds a man who wore eye make up and worshipped Freddie Mercury to cast aspersions on my sexuality…..


  2. Rev. Jeff permalink
    July 9, 2012 7:55 pm

    There is a world of difference between being in touch with ones feminine side and a rather distasteful predilection for homo erotic public schoolboy shenanigans! Come to think of it being in touch with anyone’s feminine side would be something of a bonus (no not a bonar) nowadays !!


  3. Monsieur, Le Frere Cadet permalink
    July 9, 2012 10:12 pm

    A public school boy would never utter such a base statement as you attempted to put into the mouth of that iconic Anthony Bay. What he would have said (and I know because I know that type well) would have been “So when a public school boy offers an invitation to a Grammar school boy to come to dinner and never hears back, is the public school boy to assume that the Grammar school boy is coming or not coming to dinner?” In addition, I happen to know (because I was there) that Anthony Bay, who abhors bullying (having been the victim of it himself at his public school) would never have participated in the de-moustaching of your face, whilst the paper aeroplane in the picture was made by and thrown at him by another member of the luncheon team. What was he to do but throw it back? Finally, my spies report that last night he was wearing a very becoming white Moroccan shirt with tassles for buttons and floppy sleeves, St Tropez cotton trousers and King’s Road loafers. His dinner of porc au fenouil apparently had the guest ululating with pleasure.


    • July 10, 2012 8:56 am

      I stand corrected, as indeed was some of the spelling.Kings Road loafers? I think I know some of those….


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