Taking someone up the Oxo Tower ?

The lovely flame haired siren Carolyn took me to task yesterday on a high scoring typo day, claiming that she was not flame hired, as my keyboard, which had misinterpreted my words yesterday, had said. No, she is flame haired and feisty and I was put in my place. I do so love a woman with spirit, and this one is spirited all right. She is however also stunningly beautiful and a Duran Duran fan, so I have managed to get her a ticket to their book launch next week, which I think has placated her, at least for now.

I had been at the Kings Arms in Sunday afternoon with another feisty individual whom many of you know as That Nice Lady Decorator. Woe betide any chaps that cross them when they are together. No pubs for me yesterday. Not on a diet day, so do not expect uplifting and amusing today, because that relies on a full stomach and a glass in my hand. All you are likely to get is downtrodden and depressing, except, of course, when I consider the joys that befall anyone with a foreign exchange need that chooses Currencies Direct for it to be satisfied.

The Sussex Downs march today took us up Kithurst Hill, which reminds me of a conversation I had this morning with Mr Clipboard about him taking his wife up the Oxo Tower, however I think if I continued with that theme I might be going a bit off message. In an ideal world, a 4 mile trek in chilly winds should have been followed by a couple of pints and a nice lunch. Instead it was the pre-cursor for a mug of tea and roasted vegetables. I did manage to save enough calories from my 600 to have a Virgin Mary layer on, just to make myself feel like I was having a drink.

The Chunctonbury Ring, where we may venture today

This morning I received a communication from the electoral roll chaps about being registered to vote and it reminded me that I have not heard from The Naked Politician about his launch of his new properly constituted political party, the Party Party, for whom I want to be considered to represent Arundel at the next General Election. I must call him for an update. I was thinking that The Reverend Flowers, the former chairman of the Co Op Bank that has been linked to any number of activities that ill befit a banker and or a Reverend, might be an ideal candidate for such a party. I think, if elected, he could be head of the drugs unit. At least he may know where to get them.

Actually the Reverend Flowers and his alleged antics throws up a number of questions, one of which I would like to address to our own excellent limerick and poetry writing contributor, the Reverend Jeff. It appears that, if the allegations are true, and at this stage they are unproven (one must tip ones hat to the libel laws of England), the cooperative good Reverend clearly sees nothing in his faith that would preclude him from drinking to excess, snorting various substances, enjoying the services of rent boys and fiddling his expenses. I may have underestimated Christianity. Perhaps it is something at which I should at look again? What say you Reverend?

Several options are open to us today, the diet being on hold, this being the day sandwiched between the two dreary foodless and drinkless days. Lunch or quiz night? I am up for doing both, but I saw rumblings of discontent when my idea was mentioned earlier. That Nice Lady Decorator has a friend with whom she sometimes goes walking whose name is Catherine Panto (oh yes it is!) so she thus is uncertain of her movements today. I was much the same on Sunday, uncertain of my movements that is, but that was mainly down to an ill-advised and thoroughly debauched night out in London with Mr Otway on Saturday night. I must make a mental note; I am too old to do that any more.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News