The Not So Boring Accountant

I was talking to Terribly Tall Timothy Taylor in The White Hart last night and he told that he was thinking of joining the gym. He went in and asked the trainer if he could teach him how to do the splits. The trainer said, “how flexible are you”. He said “I can make Wednesdays and Fridays”

Actually I cannot think of anything I would like less than going to the gym. Being the whippet like shape that I am has its advantages, but as That Nice Lady Decorator notes, rather rudely I think, “you seldom see a 14 stone whippet”.

One of my most ardent followers (David knows who he is) complains that he wants stories of the many characters with whom I come into contact, which is all very well if they get drunk and do something stupid, but that so seldom happens. Oh no, I forgot, it happens all the time. For instance, my picture today is of my accountant Clive “I am not just a boring accountant” Name Withheld (but for arguments sake let’s call him Slater) who is just a boring accountant…until you get a drink inside him and then there is an explosion of madness. Think Rees Mogg when he is sober, think Spike Milligan when he has had a drink. He is shown today trying to gain entrance to my house to discuss something rather important, such as “are you coming to the pub”. He is also prone to wearing some seriously bad taste shirts, many of which I covert, having no taste whatsoever… He is however, a happy customer with currencies experts Currencies Direct, so he is forgiven.

Left to my own devices one evening earlier this week, I took the dogs Ronnie and Reggie (well named it seems; they are both thieves and Ronnie is a psychopath) for an early evening pub crawl in Arundel. That Nice Lady Decorator had decided to go and see Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again, whilst I decided Mamma Mia, I Will Go To The Pub Again, admittedly not such a well known production, chiefly because it exists only in my own head. Any suggestion that I was seen in the Arundel  chip shop in the evening, whilst on my enforced diet, will be met with legal proceedings from my lawyers Messrs Fry, Batter and Mushy who will defend my integrity to the last chip. Anyway, chips are potatoes and, as such, are they not one of your 5 a day?

So to Wickham Festival this evening. I like to have at least one serious ethnic music festival experience each year. This time it is to see Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel. As proper festival goers, we have booked a fashionable hotel with luxury bathroom and shower, booked a nice meal at a swanky local restaurant and then later we will take in the Festival atmosphere. Not for long I hope, I think a cigar and nightcap at the hotel will beckon..

Finally, I have been invited to play golf with Ian “Conservitably”(sic) Lock, so called because of his inability to spell conservatively,  at Cowdray Park next week. Apparently it is rather posh and for some reason he is a little concerned about the golf attire I have in mind. Some of you will be familiar with my pineapple trousers. I say no more.

Chris France