DIARY OF A DOWN-TRODDEN, EX-AUTHOUR!
December 2010-Final thoughts............Swan song.
Well it is the middle of December already. I can’t believe a year has now passed since I started to pursue the task of getting my books into print. I think it’s time to let go of my dreams now! It is with a heavy heart I write my final blog.
Over the last few months I have been looking on the ‘I Need a Literary Agent’ page on Facebook. It is filled with people just like me and I’m not stupid enough to think my books are any better than theirs, in fact they are probably worse. I have come to the conclusion that I am rubbish at this literary lark! Clearly I am no ‘Mystic Meg’ either, because I was convinced 2010 would be the year my books would finally take off.
Still no closer in finding an elusive literary agent, I have therefore put down my pen for the last time mid-book and as from now, P.D. Scott- Author, will be no more. After all, only a fool wouldn’t know when they’ve been beaten!
I’m not sure what I’ll do with my life as I feel much like a burst balloon and as I have been writing since Kew Gardens was only a flower pot , I’m unsure what route I’ll take. Pole-dancing, belly dancing or lap-dancing perhaps....who knows? Or maybe I could go on a course to become proficient enough to repair and service refrigerators. You never know when Colin Firth’s fridge will break down again. Then our eyes would lock over a packet of frozen peas and as they say in Mamma Mia! Dot, dot, dot.............
I would like to thank you for putting up with my mental ranting - you all deserve medals. Thanks also for all your kind words of encouragement and support concerning my crazy blogs and for not sending me any abusive messages, I bet you were tempted.
Firstly let me take a minute to thank my friends, deranged Chris & Zoe and manic Michelle, for allowing me to rib them mercilessly in my blogs. Some of it true and other sections I admit were laced with a touch of artistic license.
I would also like to take time to thank Norwich based actor David Blood who has been really lovely and kept me sane with lots of words of encouragement. He even offered his services to make my dream come true by bringing his friend and fellow thespian/director Peter Sowerbutts to my house to read out my screenplay to me. You see, I mentioned once how it would be wonderful for any writer to hear their work portrayed by actors. How kind, but I couldn’t accept their offer......how embarrassing would it have been if they thought it was a load of tosh? Thanks anyway guys, you are both legends.
I had genuine messages telling me not to give up from the actress and presenter Terri Dwyer which were gratefully received too. I will always remember her kindness in my down days.
Last shout out goes to the suave and funny Peter Howard Sherlock. He often seduces me with bargains of Tommy & Kate handbags and perfume from my favourite Sit-Up TV shopping channels. A couple of months back I was eating my Sunday roast and was astounded when Peter started talking about me and my mad blogs! It was extremely nice of him but it did make me spray my potato everywhere. Thanks anyway Peter.
This blog is sounding more and more like an acceptance speech for an ‘Oscar’ sorry!
Facebook friends, Twitter followers and fellow Firth lovers I would like to say farewell, it’s been an absolute pleasure to get to know you all.
I hope you are aware I have bared my soul for you, but as Bridget Jones would say “It’s only a diary...everyone knows diaries are full of crap!”
Happy Christmas to each and every one of you, I hope you have a prosperous and peaceful New Year.
I would like to take the opportunity to wish you well in your dreams, however extreme or bizarre.
I say good bye with a tear in my eye.
Has anyone got a paper shredder?
Polly. XXX
NOTE TO COLIN FIRTH: This is the moment when you rush in...... sweep me up into your arms and
carry me off into the sunset!!! It’s not gonna happen is it? Shame!!
NOTE TO HUGH GRANT: This is the moment when you give up harassing me!
Thursday 16 December 2010
Wednesday 1 December 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR! December 2nd 2010-Penultimate blog!!
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
December 2nd 2010-Penultimate blog!!
CHRISTMAS AT PEMBERLEY
It was Christmas Eve at Pemberley, the grand home of Mr Firth. The fine, quintessentially English, Derbyshire house was adorned with holly and ivy, the aroma of chestnuts on a roasting fire filled the ballroom. A merry gathering of people were enjoying the music coming from the pianoforte. Mr Firth was standing watching his accomplished sister playing a gay song, a smile played on his lips. His good friend Gordon Ramsay walked across the room to him.
“I wager you will not easily find such lively music or such pretty partners.” Gordon said.
“I believe you could be right, Gordon.”
“I saw some acquaintances of yours in Lambton today.” Gordon said.
Mr Firth turned to his friend. “Indeed?”
Gordon smiled. “Yes, I gather Miss Scott and her sisters are staying for Christmas at the inn.”
Mr Firth frowned. “What are they doing in Derbyshire?”
“It is not a flipping, capital offence! Oh Firthie .......why do you act so displeased with everyone and everything in the world?” Gordon asked his friend.
“And how would you wish me to act? You must remember......Miss Scott has already turned my proposal of marriage down.......would you have me ask both of her sisters too? You suppose ‘a single man’ in possession of a fortune must be in desire of a wife?” Mr Firth said crossly. “And do not call me Firthie!”
“I am sorry, what agonies you must be suffering.” Gordon apologised. “I asked Miss Scott to call on us with her sisters.”
Mr Firth stood up straight. “She has little than her charms to recommend her Gordon.......was her husband not with her?”
“Husband?” Gordon Ramsay shook his head. “But lo Firthie, she has no husband!”
Mr Firth raised his eyebrows. “I need a goblet of mead! And I beg you, do not call me Firthie!!”
“Is something wrong?” Gordon asked seeing his friend’s agitation.
“I must overcome this.” Mr Firth muttered under his breath before strutting away.
Mr Ramsay watched as his enraged friend walked over to the decanter to pour himself a drink, looking ill at ease. In the doorway of the vast ballroom unseen by Mr Firth, Miss Scott and her sisters stood waiting for an invitation to come in. Mr Ramsay was the first to look over and welcomed them with a broad smile.
“Ladies, ladies.” He said as he strode over to them before bowing. “No need to ask if you are all well......you look so elegant and charming!”
The three women bobbed a quick curtsey.
“Will you not come into the room?” Mr Ramsay continued. “I do believe Mr Bingley is warming his nuts by the fire!”
“I thank you, sir.” Michelle said fluttering her eyelashes. “We love roast chestnuts.”
It was at that moment Mr Firth glanced over and saw the women entering the room, he walked over to them.
“Ladies please accept my apologies for not receiving you properly just now.” He said taking a bow.
More curtseys were done by the ever-so polite women.
“Please do not trouble yourself Mr Firth, Mr Ramsay was looking after us most admirably!” Miss Scott said with a cool air of distance.
“Well I must say you all look very pleasing tonight!” Mr Firth said with a smile.
“Thank you, sir.” Zoe said blushing.
“I trust your husband is well Miss Scott, or should I indeed be calling you Mrs Grunt?” Mr Firth asked.
“I fear sir, I do not know of his health........ I have not seen him in above six months!”
Mr Firth looked vexed once more. “Oh Miss Scott, pray tell me he has not called off his betrothal. I hope he has not dabbled unkindly with your affections...........He is a curmudgeon! I would drag him to the gallows myself if it be so!”
“I fear it is a long story and Major Huge Grunt plays no ill part in it Mr Firth! You do not need to drag him to the gallows or indeed put him on the naughty step!” Miss Scott told him.
Mr Ramsay smiled at Michelle. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with me? It is a merry little jig.....is it not?”
Michelle smiled back. “It is sir. It puts me in mind of a sailor’s hornpipe! I would love to shake my little derriere to it.”
Mr Ramsay led Michelle over to where the other dancers were making shapes on the dance floor!
“I hope you are not displeased with Pemberley?” Mr Firth asked Miss Scott.
“No sir, not at all.”
“Then you approve of it?” He asked with a smile.
Miss Scott smiled back at him. “Very much, I think there are few who would not approve.”
December 2nd 2010-Penultimate blog!!
CHRISTMAS AT PEMBERLEY
It was Christmas Eve at Pemberley, the grand home of Mr Firth. The fine, quintessentially English, Derbyshire house was adorned with holly and ivy, the aroma of chestnuts on a roasting fire filled the ballroom. A merry gathering of people were enjoying the music coming from the pianoforte. Mr Firth was standing watching his accomplished sister playing a gay song, a smile played on his lips. His good friend Gordon Ramsay walked across the room to him.
“I wager you will not easily find such lively music or such pretty partners.” Gordon said.
“I believe you could be right, Gordon.”
“I saw some acquaintances of yours in Lambton today.” Gordon said.
Mr Firth turned to his friend. “Indeed?”
Gordon smiled. “Yes, I gather Miss Scott and her sisters are staying for Christmas at the inn.”
Mr Firth frowned. “What are they doing in Derbyshire?”
“It is not a flipping, capital offence! Oh Firthie .......why do you act so displeased with everyone and everything in the world?” Gordon asked his friend.
“And how would you wish me to act? You must remember......Miss Scott has already turned my proposal of marriage down.......would you have me ask both of her sisters too? You suppose ‘a single man’ in possession of a fortune must be in desire of a wife?” Mr Firth said crossly. “And do not call me Firthie!”
“I am sorry, what agonies you must be suffering.” Gordon apologised. “I asked Miss Scott to call on us with her sisters.”
Mr Firth stood up straight. “She has little than her charms to recommend her Gordon.......was her husband not with her?”
“Husband?” Gordon Ramsay shook his head. “But lo Firthie, she has no husband!”
Mr Firth raised his eyebrows. “I need a goblet of mead! And I beg you, do not call me Firthie!!”
“Is something wrong?” Gordon asked seeing his friend’s agitation.
“I must overcome this.” Mr Firth muttered under his breath before strutting away.
Mr Ramsay watched as his enraged friend walked over to the decanter to pour himself a drink, looking ill at ease. In the doorway of the vast ballroom unseen by Mr Firth, Miss Scott and her sisters stood waiting for an invitation to come in. Mr Ramsay was the first to look over and welcomed them with a broad smile.
“Ladies, ladies.” He said as he strode over to them before bowing. “No need to ask if you are all well......you look so elegant and charming!”
The three women bobbed a quick curtsey.
“Will you not come into the room?” Mr Ramsay continued. “I do believe Mr Bingley is warming his nuts by the fire!”
“I thank you, sir.” Michelle said fluttering her eyelashes. “We love roast chestnuts.”
It was at that moment Mr Firth glanced over and saw the women entering the room, he walked over to them.
“Ladies please accept my apologies for not receiving you properly just now.” He said taking a bow.
More curtseys were done by the ever-so polite women.
“Please do not trouble yourself Mr Firth, Mr Ramsay was looking after us most admirably!” Miss Scott said with a cool air of distance.
“Well I must say you all look very pleasing tonight!” Mr Firth said with a smile.
“Thank you, sir.” Zoe said blushing.
“I trust your husband is well Miss Scott, or should I indeed be calling you Mrs Grunt?” Mr Firth asked.
“I fear sir, I do not know of his health........ I have not seen him in above six months!”
Mr Firth looked vexed once more. “Oh Miss Scott, pray tell me he has not called off his betrothal. I hope he has not dabbled unkindly with your affections...........He is a curmudgeon! I would drag him to the gallows myself if it be so!”
“I fear it is a long story and Major Huge Grunt plays no ill part in it Mr Firth! You do not need to drag him to the gallows or indeed put him on the naughty step!” Miss Scott told him.
Mr Ramsay smiled at Michelle. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with me? It is a merry little jig.....is it not?”
Michelle smiled back. “It is sir. It puts me in mind of a sailor’s hornpipe! I would love to shake my little derriere to it.”
Mr Ramsay led Michelle over to where the other dancers were making shapes on the dance floor!
“I hope you are not displeased with Pemberley?” Mr Firth asked Miss Scott.
“No sir, not at all.”
“Then you approve of it?” He asked with a smile.
Miss Scott smiled back at him. “Very much, I think there are few who would not approve.”
“But your good opinion is rarely bestowed and therefore worth the earning.” Mr Firth smouldered. “Would you allow me to.................would I ask too much to introduce my sister to you?”
“I would be very happy to make her acquaintance. Come Zoe, let us meet Miss Firth.”
Mr Firth followed Zoe and Miss Scott as they walked over to the pianoforte where Mr Firth’s younger sister was playing a spirited ditty, much to the amusement of all the dancers. She carried on playing until she reached the end of her piece and then turned to smile at her brother.
“Sister, I would like to introduce you to two acquaintances of mine.” Mr Firth said. “This is Miss Zoe Scott and her sister Miss P.D. Scott. Ladies this is my sister, Mabel.”
The Scott sisters curtsied and Mabel nodded her head respectfully.
“My brother has told me so much about your family......it is good to finally meet you.” Miss Firth said.
“It is indeed good to meet you too.” Zoe said. “Will you not play another rousing song for us? How about the classic “Mamma Mia?”
“I would love to.....if you will turn the pages for me?” Miss Firth asked.
“But of course!” Zoe said. “Where did you learn to master the pianoforte so proficiently?”
“I went to ‘St Trinian’s school for young ladies!” Mabel Firth told her. “My dearest brother arranged it for me.”
“Really? I have heard only good things about that school!” Zoe said with a smile.
“Miss Scott I would be happy if you would do me the honour, of letting me claim the next two dances with you.” Mr Firth said suddenly.
“I thank you, but excuse me I am not inclined to dance. Break-dancing is not for me, I think!”
“Oh Miss Scott please do not be so disagreeable with my brother, I fear he has scarcely spoken of anyone as favourably as he has of you.” Miss Firth said.
Miss Scott smiled at Miss Firth. “As you wish Miss Firth.......I would not like to displease you!”
“Perhaps it would be more to your taste Miss Scott to take a turn around the garden?” Mr Firth asked. “It is very refreshing!”
“I think sir, it would be too cold!” Miss Scott said.
“But you could come in and warm your buns by the log fire.”
Miss Scott nodded and allowed herself to be led into the garden by Mr Firth (how utterly shocking!!)
The moon was high and bright in the dark, jet black, sky. The occasional star twinkled down on the couple as they walked in the frosty garden, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.
“Would it be entirely inappropriate if I said you looked foxy tonight?” Mr Firth asked.
Miss Scott was dumbfounded. “Mr Firth, please do not be so bold!”
Mr Firth turned to Miss Scott. “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are the same as they were in June tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”
Miss Scott looked shyly at her feet and then up at Mr Firth’s hopeful face. “My feelings are so different................. in fact they are quite the opposite!”
“I scarcely allowed myself to hope of a moment like this Miss Scott. My past behaviour........oh I can hardly think of it without abhorrence. Your rejection has tortured me......and when I thought of you with Major Huge Grunt!” Mr Firth punched a nearby tree with pent up rage. “I have been a selfish being all my life.............I would still be, if not for you.......dearest, lovely P.D.”
Without another word Mr Firth stripped off his velvet jacket and plunged himself into the nearby, almost frozen, lake. Just minutes later he left the cold water and walked seductively towards Miss Scott. Music seemed to come out of nowhere, she had a sudden whirling vortex of longing. Her heart skipped a beat as his sopping wet, white shirt clung to every contour of his manly body.
“Oh, Mr Firth! You look so well like that.” She whispered. “You have such large muscles!”
“I thank you, my dearest.” He said. “I have a personal trainer.......I confess I have purchased a rowing machine too.”
That was the moment when Miss Scott decided against being a simpleton all her life. She agreed to become Mrs Firth (who wouldn’t?) with the promise from him that he would get professional help to curb him of his lake-plunging episodes. After sealing the engagement with a kiss on the cheek (any more would be improper unfortunately), the couple went back into the ballroom to announce their special news to the throng!
Mr Firth stood dripping lake-water onto the marble floor.
“I say there!” He shouted to his ‘circle of friends’. “I have news!”
He looked proudly at Miss Scott and waited for silence in the room.
“Miss Scott has agreed to my proposal of marriage......we are to make plans this very night.” He announced.
The crowd of happy faces began clapping their approval, while Zoe came rushing over to her sister.
“Oh sister, I am so very happy for you.” She said taking her to one side. “But I thought you hated him, when did you change your mind?”
“I do believe it was when I saw the size of his tench!” Miss Scott told Zoe with a wink.
“Perhaps the large size of his fish rendered Mr Firth a little less repulsive, sister?”
“I do believe so, Zoe.” Miss Scott giggled.
“What are you two minxes discussing?” Mr Firth asked after overhearing her last words.
“You had a large, flapping, tench hanging from your breeches as you climbed out of the lake.”
Mr Firth nodded and smiled. “Tell me dearest heart, when will I be able to call you by your name? P.D. just is not enough for me?”
“Please Mr Firth do not get ahead of yourself! You will know it on our honeymoon and not before.........it would be entirely indecent!”
“As you wish, P.D.” He said.
“Where is Michelle?” Miss Scott asked her sister. “I want to tell her my news!”
“She is with Mr Ramsay in the kitchen...... I do believe he is showing her his prize winning Cumberland sausage.”
“I bet he is!” Mr Firth said suspiciously. “He is a rampant, old goat!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the anniversary of the first Christmas at Pemberley, P.D. Firth gave birth to twins.....a pigeon pair! They called the little girl ‘Bridget’ and the little boy ‘Darcy’. Mr Firth engaged a ‘Nanny McPhee’ to help his wife with the children. Michelle was last seen boarding a ship with her new, best friend, Paris Hilton, to do the ‘Grand Tour’ of the hotels of Europe. Zoe too, left the country with that rogue and scoundrel, Master Chris Woods from the Grange, to become missionaries on the hostile and godforsaken island of Guernsey. Mabel Firth married Captain Ivor Rectum of Pembrokeshire and moved to his estate, where they happily began breeding miniature pigs together!
Would you believe they all lived happily ever after? Well of course they did, because it isn’t real life is it? It is only my ranting and mad ideas, with the help of some dialogue from Jane Austen!!
THE END
P.D. Scott. xx
“I would be very happy to make her acquaintance. Come Zoe, let us meet Miss Firth.”
Mr Firth followed Zoe and Miss Scott as they walked over to the pianoforte where Mr Firth’s younger sister was playing a spirited ditty, much to the amusement of all the dancers. She carried on playing until she reached the end of her piece and then turned to smile at her brother.
“Sister, I would like to introduce you to two acquaintances of mine.” Mr Firth said. “This is Miss Zoe Scott and her sister Miss P.D. Scott. Ladies this is my sister, Mabel.”
The Scott sisters curtsied and Mabel nodded her head respectfully.
“My brother has told me so much about your family......it is good to finally meet you.” Miss Firth said.
“It is indeed good to meet you too.” Zoe said. “Will you not play another rousing song for us? How about the classic “Mamma Mia?”
“I would love to.....if you will turn the pages for me?” Miss Firth asked.
“But of course!” Zoe said. “Where did you learn to master the pianoforte so proficiently?”
“I went to ‘St Trinian’s school for young ladies!” Mabel Firth told her. “My dearest brother arranged it for me.”
“Really? I have heard only good things about that school!” Zoe said with a smile.
“Miss Scott I would be happy if you would do me the honour, of letting me claim the next two dances with you.” Mr Firth said suddenly.
“I thank you, but excuse me I am not inclined to dance. Break-dancing is not for me, I think!”
“Oh Miss Scott please do not be so disagreeable with my brother, I fear he has scarcely spoken of anyone as favourably as he has of you.” Miss Firth said.
Miss Scott smiled at Miss Firth. “As you wish Miss Firth.......I would not like to displease you!”
“Perhaps it would be more to your taste Miss Scott to take a turn around the garden?” Mr Firth asked. “It is very refreshing!”
“I think sir, it would be too cold!” Miss Scott said.
“But you could come in and warm your buns by the log fire.”
Miss Scott nodded and allowed herself to be led into the garden by Mr Firth (how utterly shocking!!)
The moon was high and bright in the dark, jet black, sky. The occasional star twinkled down on the couple as they walked in the frosty garden, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.
“Would it be entirely inappropriate if I said you looked foxy tonight?” Mr Firth asked.
Miss Scott was dumbfounded. “Mr Firth, please do not be so bold!”
Mr Firth turned to Miss Scott. “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are the same as they were in June tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”
Miss Scott looked shyly at her feet and then up at Mr Firth’s hopeful face. “My feelings are so different................. in fact they are quite the opposite!”
“I scarcely allowed myself to hope of a moment like this Miss Scott. My past behaviour........oh I can hardly think of it without abhorrence. Your rejection has tortured me......and when I thought of you with Major Huge Grunt!” Mr Firth punched a nearby tree with pent up rage. “I have been a selfish being all my life.............I would still be, if not for you.......dearest, lovely P.D.”
Without another word Mr Firth stripped off his velvet jacket and plunged himself into the nearby, almost frozen, lake. Just minutes later he left the cold water and walked seductively towards Miss Scott. Music seemed to come out of nowhere, she had a sudden whirling vortex of longing. Her heart skipped a beat as his sopping wet, white shirt clung to every contour of his manly body.
“Oh, Mr Firth! You look so well like that.” She whispered. “You have such large muscles!”
“I thank you, my dearest.” He said. “I have a personal trainer.......I confess I have purchased a rowing machine too.”
That was the moment when Miss Scott decided against being a simpleton all her life. She agreed to become Mrs Firth (who wouldn’t?) with the promise from him that he would get professional help to curb him of his lake-plunging episodes. After sealing the engagement with a kiss on the cheek (any more would be improper unfortunately), the couple went back into the ballroom to announce their special news to the throng!
Mr Firth stood dripping lake-water onto the marble floor.
“I say there!” He shouted to his ‘circle of friends’. “I have news!”
He looked proudly at Miss Scott and waited for silence in the room.
“Miss Scott has agreed to my proposal of marriage......we are to make plans this very night.” He announced.
The crowd of happy faces began clapping their approval, while Zoe came rushing over to her sister.
“Oh sister, I am so very happy for you.” She said taking her to one side. “But I thought you hated him, when did you change your mind?”
“I do believe it was when I saw the size of his tench!” Miss Scott told Zoe with a wink.
“Perhaps the large size of his fish rendered Mr Firth a little less repulsive, sister?”
“I do believe so, Zoe.” Miss Scott giggled.
“What are you two minxes discussing?” Mr Firth asked after overhearing her last words.
“You had a large, flapping, tench hanging from your breeches as you climbed out of the lake.”
Mr Firth nodded and smiled. “Tell me dearest heart, when will I be able to call you by your name? P.D. just is not enough for me?”
“Please Mr Firth do not get ahead of yourself! You will know it on our honeymoon and not before.........it would be entirely indecent!”
“As you wish, P.D.” He said.
“Where is Michelle?” Miss Scott asked her sister. “I want to tell her my news!”
“She is with Mr Ramsay in the kitchen...... I do believe he is showing her his prize winning Cumberland sausage.”
“I bet he is!” Mr Firth said suspiciously. “He is a rampant, old goat!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the anniversary of the first Christmas at Pemberley, P.D. Firth gave birth to twins.....a pigeon pair! They called the little girl ‘Bridget’ and the little boy ‘Darcy’. Mr Firth engaged a ‘Nanny McPhee’ to help his wife with the children. Michelle was last seen boarding a ship with her new, best friend, Paris Hilton, to do the ‘Grand Tour’ of the hotels of Europe. Zoe too, left the country with that rogue and scoundrel, Master Chris Woods from the Grange, to become missionaries on the hostile and godforsaken island of Guernsey. Mabel Firth married Captain Ivor Rectum of Pembrokeshire and moved to his estate, where they happily began breeding miniature pigs together!
Would you believe they all lived happily ever after? Well of course they did, because it isn’t real life is it? It is only my ranting and mad ideas, with the help of some dialogue from Jane Austen!!
THE END
P.D. Scott. xx
Thursday 18 November 2010
November 2010- Part twenty-three
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
November 2010- Part twenty-three
I have to admit I am getting very disillusioned with this literary lark there seems to be absolutely nothing on the horizon. It appears the only thing in my life I have to look forward to in the far distant future, is the latest design of incontinence pads! Great! I look forward to that immensely! I’m not as depressed as that makes me sound but you try living with rejection after rejection! I do hate it when people call it feedback......its rejection, pure and simple! Rant over! You are safe to come out from behind the sofa.
At last I have found somebody to accompany me to my belly dancing classes. My deranged friend Zoe has volunteered to learn to ripple and thrust along side of me. It’s so exciting....I can’t wait. Until we go to our first lesson I have been viewing erotic belly dancing on You-Tube. Think I may model myself on Shakira’s dancing. I’ve just about managed to master ‘snake arms’ but it’s very hard to learn the hip movements! Watch out Colin Firth I will be in your favourite restaurant soon to pulsate my body over your couscous! Oh I say matron! I wonder where you buy tassels to stick on your nipples.....umm.
As well as being obsessed with Colin Firth I am a list obsessive too! I always make lists about everything! Does that make me a control freak? Routine and lists are my world......nothing spontaneous to upset the apple cart. My latest list is a Christmas list for Santa- Dear F. Christmas. I have been a good-ish girl and so I would like a mood changing lipstick, literary agent, pink-fluffy handcuffs (others have broken through rough play), grow your own boyfriend, Easter egg (should be in the shops by December), a new jar of chocolate body paint to replace the last (now rancid through lack of use), luminous green feather boa, a handbag, a satsuma and last but not least Colin Firth dressed as Mr Darcy!! I have a bucket list too, but I will not publish that because it concerns a certain actor, a leather horse whip and a bouncy castle!!!
It’s really chilly today here in London, it’s enough to make your ‘raspberry ripples’ stand to attention. I could seriously cut glass with them!
Christmas is well on the way. I can’t believe it is almost a year since I received my weird but wonderful Christmas pressie from ‘deranged friends’ Chris and Zoe. Not everyone can boast they were given Christmas tree seeds with reindeer poo to plant out in their garden. For 7 months I have watched and waited for any sign of life from under the soil. I hoped by now I would at least see one token shoot breaking through, but no. I may have to face the fact that my pipedream of decorating my own tree is not going to happen. I can’t wait to see what they buy me this year!
I can tell you something they definitely won’t be buying me...........a Merkin! I read an article about this exciting new gift idea! Anyone who is unfamiliar with the name will be astounded to learn that it is the name given to a pubic wig! Actors, actresses, prostitutes, arty-farty types or ladies just wanting to give their partners a surprise, buy them from specialist shops. It is said that the ‘Brazilian’ and the ‘Landing strip’ are out of fashion ‘down there’......the Merkin is the way to go! You can get them readily in all colours and shapes, from a red love heart to a National flag. How very patriotic! I’m not sure how our queen would feel about people flashing their Merkins along to ‘God Save the Queen’!
The guy next door has volunteered his services to be Father Christmas this year for a charity event. You see the real Santa will obviously be too busy checking on the reindeer and the elves, to be able to do it himself! Admittedly he won’t need the padding around his middle! The sad thing is he isn’t allowed to let the children sit on his knee to talk to him. People are worried he could be accused of ‘touching up’ the ankle biters! How sad is that? Next they’ll be testing the Easter bunny for rabies and frisking the Tooth fairy for sharp objects and explosive devices. Ridiculous!
Can I just put in a huge message of congratulations to my dear deranged friends Chris and Zoe. Chris got down on one knee and proposed (marriage). Fantastic news! Trust Prince William and Kate to spoil their thunder and announce their engagement too!
Oh well that completes another lot of my garrulous scribbling!
Take care until next time.
P.D. Scott. Xx
Warning : Next blog ‘Christmas at Pemberley!’
November 2010- Part twenty-three
I have to admit I am getting very disillusioned with this literary lark there seems to be absolutely nothing on the horizon. It appears the only thing in my life I have to look forward to in the far distant future, is the latest design of incontinence pads! Great! I look forward to that immensely! I’m not as depressed as that makes me sound but you try living with rejection after rejection! I do hate it when people call it feedback......its rejection, pure and simple! Rant over! You are safe to come out from behind the sofa.
At last I have found somebody to accompany me to my belly dancing classes. My deranged friend Zoe has volunteered to learn to ripple and thrust along side of me. It’s so exciting....I can’t wait. Until we go to our first lesson I have been viewing erotic belly dancing on You-Tube. Think I may model myself on Shakira’s dancing. I’ve just about managed to master ‘snake arms’ but it’s very hard to learn the hip movements! Watch out Colin Firth I will be in your favourite restaurant soon to pulsate my body over your couscous! Oh I say matron! I wonder where you buy tassels to stick on your nipples.....umm.
As well as being obsessed with Colin Firth I am a list obsessive too! I always make lists about everything! Does that make me a control freak? Routine and lists are my world......nothing spontaneous to upset the apple cart. My latest list is a Christmas list for Santa- Dear F. Christmas. I have been a good-ish girl and so I would like a mood changing lipstick, literary agent, pink-fluffy handcuffs (others have broken through rough play), grow your own boyfriend, Easter egg (should be in the shops by December), a new jar of chocolate body paint to replace the last (now rancid through lack of use), luminous green feather boa, a handbag, a satsuma and last but not least Colin Firth dressed as Mr Darcy!! I have a bucket list too, but I will not publish that because it concerns a certain actor, a leather horse whip and a bouncy castle!!!
It’s really chilly today here in London, it’s enough to make your ‘raspberry ripples’ stand to attention. I could seriously cut glass with them!
Christmas is well on the way. I can’t believe it is almost a year since I received my weird but wonderful Christmas pressie from ‘deranged friends’ Chris and Zoe. Not everyone can boast they were given Christmas tree seeds with reindeer poo to plant out in their garden. For 7 months I have watched and waited for any sign of life from under the soil. I hoped by now I would at least see one token shoot breaking through, but no. I may have to face the fact that my pipedream of decorating my own tree is not going to happen. I can’t wait to see what they buy me this year!
I can tell you something they definitely won’t be buying me...........a Merkin! I read an article about this exciting new gift idea! Anyone who is unfamiliar with the name will be astounded to learn that it is the name given to a pubic wig! Actors, actresses, prostitutes, arty-farty types or ladies just wanting to give their partners a surprise, buy them from specialist shops. It is said that the ‘Brazilian’ and the ‘Landing strip’ are out of fashion ‘down there’......the Merkin is the way to go! You can get them readily in all colours and shapes, from a red love heart to a National flag. How very patriotic! I’m not sure how our queen would feel about people flashing their Merkins along to ‘God Save the Queen’!
The guy next door has volunteered his services to be Father Christmas this year for a charity event. You see the real Santa will obviously be too busy checking on the reindeer and the elves, to be able to do it himself! Admittedly he won’t need the padding around his middle! The sad thing is he isn’t allowed to let the children sit on his knee to talk to him. People are worried he could be accused of ‘touching up’ the ankle biters! How sad is that? Next they’ll be testing the Easter bunny for rabies and frisking the Tooth fairy for sharp objects and explosive devices. Ridiculous!
Can I just put in a huge message of congratulations to my dear deranged friends Chris and Zoe. Chris got down on one knee and proposed (marriage). Fantastic news! Trust Prince William and Kate to spoil their thunder and announce their engagement too!
Oh well that completes another lot of my garrulous scribbling!
Take care until next time.
P.D. Scott. Xx
Warning : Next blog ‘Christmas at Pemberley!’
Thursday 4 November 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR! November 5th 2010- Part twenty-two
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
November 5th 2010- Part twenty-two
I have had an interesting few days since my last blog. I don’t know what on earth processed me but I was encouraged to go to a Halloween party. Yes I was enticed by friends to celebrate the gruesomeness of all evil ghouls and ghosties by drinking vast quantities of alcohol whilst apple bobbing! Unsurprisingly manic Michelle went dressed as a rather attractive pirate, sporting her favourite bejewelled eye patch and amazing red killer heels. Deranged friends Chris and Zoe were a little more imaginative with their costumes. Zoe donned a rather fetching ‘Tinkerbell’ outfit complete with UGG boots and a wire hanger with tinsel wrapped round it for a wand. Chris dressed as a demonic monster, his face painted with terrifying looking scars. I took the easy option and went as the ‘Bride of Dracula’. I rooted through the local charity shop for an awful looking, wedding dress and veil, and tipped ketchup down the front as blood. A pair of plastic fangs finished the look. I must remember another time to take the wretched fangs out before attempting to imbibe any alcohol as I became prone to dribbling and drooling (not a good look). The party itself was fun but uneventful which can’t be said for our journey home. Chris and his friend Leon walked ahead of us and it soon became apparent that the volume of alcohol they had consumed was looking for an urgent way out! The two guys decided they would slink away into an alley to have a pee! Unluckily for them two policemen happened to follow them into the darkness wondering what on earth they were up to. Chris and his friend managed to convince the coppers that they were doing nothing more than having a piddle. This was not a good idea as they were both given an on the spot fine for urinating in a public place. Michelle, Zoe and I nearly wet ourselves laughing when they came back to us red faced telling us they had been charged with outraging public decency. It was hysterical! The next day I was still amused by the whole situation and looked it up on the internet as I had no idea it was illegal to pee in a public place. Apparently in England it is legal for a male to urinate in public, as long as it is on the rear wheel of his motor car and his right hand is on the vehicle! I kid you not, that is what it said! A pregnant woman can legally wee in public anywhere and rumour has it that she is even allowed to wee in a policeman’s helmet! How mad is that? I just love the old English laws!
I have been very unproductive of late with my literary nightmare. Apart from entering another writing competition I have done little else to forward my profile. I still await news from an agent about my screenplay but I am ashamed to admit I have not sent off my novel to the publishers. I have no excuse to rely on I am just a lazy hound. This cold weather makes me want to curl up and watch Firth films.
My golf lessons have been abandoned also. It is too wet and miserable to walk about striking a ball into holes! May take it up again next year when the weather is less monsoon-like.
I haven’t given up the idea of belly dancing though. I’m trying to entice a friend (anyone would do) to go along with me to shake their bits to the music. Why am I the only person who thinks it’s a good plan? On an obscure T.V. channel there used to be a show which gave you belly dancing lessons each morning. I have since changed my T.V. provider and lost the channel completely so I can’t even learn from home. I am gutted!
My poor feline is in a state of nervous terror as Bonfire night draws ever closer. She hides behind the sofa as the noisy fireworks go off in the evenings. She particularly despises the loud bangs and the wizzy ones. It wouldn’t be so bad if people kept to one night only but it seems to be any excuse to let them off now. My cat’s ticker won’t take much more she is 14 yrs old now!
I am in desperate need of Dr Who’s Tardis! I wish I could leap in and go back in time to when ladies were ladies and men were men, the Edwardian days, to be precise. I have found myself in need of a ladies maid to dress me in the mornings. Lately on the odd occasion I have been to the town with my jumper inside out, or my dress tucked in my knickers, or with odd socks. So I feel I must have someone to dress me properly! Also I wouldn’t be against a bit of bodice ripping either!! Right let’s move on from my fantasies before you think I am a woman with loose morals. While I was on a jaunt to town, probably dressed badly, I espied a luminous yellow condom on the pavement outside my house. I was agog and aghast! Surely such smutty ‘goings on’ doesn’t happen in my stylish street? What is the neighbourhood coming to? Tut-tut! This wouldn’t happen in Chiswick.
Anyway peeps, enough rants & ravings for this time.
See you next time.
P.D. Scott xx
November 5th 2010- Part twenty-two
I have had an interesting few days since my last blog. I don’t know what on earth processed me but I was encouraged to go to a Halloween party. Yes I was enticed by friends to celebrate the gruesomeness of all evil ghouls and ghosties by drinking vast quantities of alcohol whilst apple bobbing! Unsurprisingly manic Michelle went dressed as a rather attractive pirate, sporting her favourite bejewelled eye patch and amazing red killer heels. Deranged friends Chris and Zoe were a little more imaginative with their costumes. Zoe donned a rather fetching ‘Tinkerbell’ outfit complete with UGG boots and a wire hanger with tinsel wrapped round it for a wand. Chris dressed as a demonic monster, his face painted with terrifying looking scars. I took the easy option and went as the ‘Bride of Dracula’. I rooted through the local charity shop for an awful looking, wedding dress and veil, and tipped ketchup down the front as blood. A pair of plastic fangs finished the look. I must remember another time to take the wretched fangs out before attempting to imbibe any alcohol as I became prone to dribbling and drooling (not a good look). The party itself was fun but uneventful which can’t be said for our journey home. Chris and his friend Leon walked ahead of us and it soon became apparent that the volume of alcohol they had consumed was looking for an urgent way out! The two guys decided they would slink away into an alley to have a pee! Unluckily for them two policemen happened to follow them into the darkness wondering what on earth they were up to. Chris and his friend managed to convince the coppers that they were doing nothing more than having a piddle. This was not a good idea as they were both given an on the spot fine for urinating in a public place. Michelle, Zoe and I nearly wet ourselves laughing when they came back to us red faced telling us they had been charged with outraging public decency. It was hysterical! The next day I was still amused by the whole situation and looked it up on the internet as I had no idea it was illegal to pee in a public place. Apparently in England it is legal for a male to urinate in public, as long as it is on the rear wheel of his motor car and his right hand is on the vehicle! I kid you not, that is what it said! A pregnant woman can legally wee in public anywhere and rumour has it that she is even allowed to wee in a policeman’s helmet! How mad is that? I just love the old English laws!
I have been very unproductive of late with my literary nightmare. Apart from entering another writing competition I have done little else to forward my profile. I still await news from an agent about my screenplay but I am ashamed to admit I have not sent off my novel to the publishers. I have no excuse to rely on I am just a lazy hound. This cold weather makes me want to curl up and watch Firth films.
My golf lessons have been abandoned also. It is too wet and miserable to walk about striking a ball into holes! May take it up again next year when the weather is less monsoon-like.
I haven’t given up the idea of belly dancing though. I’m trying to entice a friend (anyone would do) to go along with me to shake their bits to the music. Why am I the only person who thinks it’s a good plan? On an obscure T.V. channel there used to be a show which gave you belly dancing lessons each morning. I have since changed my T.V. provider and lost the channel completely so I can’t even learn from home. I am gutted!
My poor feline is in a state of nervous terror as Bonfire night draws ever closer. She hides behind the sofa as the noisy fireworks go off in the evenings. She particularly despises the loud bangs and the wizzy ones. It wouldn’t be so bad if people kept to one night only but it seems to be any excuse to let them off now. My cat’s ticker won’t take much more she is 14 yrs old now!
I am in desperate need of Dr Who’s Tardis! I wish I could leap in and go back in time to when ladies were ladies and men were men, the Edwardian days, to be precise. I have found myself in need of a ladies maid to dress me in the mornings. Lately on the odd occasion I have been to the town with my jumper inside out, or my dress tucked in my knickers, or with odd socks. So I feel I must have someone to dress me properly! Also I wouldn’t be against a bit of bodice ripping either!! Right let’s move on from my fantasies before you think I am a woman with loose morals. While I was on a jaunt to town, probably dressed badly, I espied a luminous yellow condom on the pavement outside my house. I was agog and aghast! Surely such smutty ‘goings on’ doesn’t happen in my stylish street? What is the neighbourhood coming to? Tut-tut! This wouldn’t happen in Chiswick.
Anyway peeps, enough rants & ravings for this time.
See you next time.
P.D. Scott xx
Wednesday 20 October 2010
October 22nd 2010- Part twenty-one
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
October 22nd 2010- Part twenty-one
October 22nd 2010- Part twenty-one
First I would like to thank Mr Darcy for stepping in at the last minute to write my blog whilst I was away in Bath taking the waters. It was most kind of him and I will be forever in his debt. He has a very healthy appetite and devoured all of my tins of Spaghetti Hoops. He also delighted in the taste of Turkey Twizzlers but is unsure if turkeys do indeed have twizzlers! Unusually there has been a run on my laundry starch too.....heaven only knows what has happened to that! Mr Darcy has left a pair of his black leather trim suspenders. He gets so cross when I persist in twanging them! He is much like a curmudgeon and threatens me constantly with his horse whip! Umm nice! The dear fellow is travelling into the depths of London to visit his much admired friends. Mr Darcy often tells me that he is very popular with the fashionable ladies and I can validate that. He doesn’t tell me to impress, but he says and I quote “It is merely the facts.”
Oh alas, woe is me! I have heard from Channel 4 about my screenplay at last. They sent a very helpful, if upsetting letter, pointing me in a different direction. Again I have been told that they don’t accept unsolicited scripts, nor do they make their own programmes. So I have sent my script off AGAIN to a literary agent who deals with scripts and screenplays. I can’t help thinking this is a pointless task, it feels like the last chance saloon somehow. You can’t knock me for trying though. A lot of people say I’m trying, but that’s something completely different!! I have also been in touch with a publisher who deals with authors without the need of those blasted literary agents. So I will be submitting my books to them!
On a recent expedition to the local super market to replenish my larder with Spaghetti Hoops, I espied yet another sort of fish for my culinary delight. Not only do they have my favourite Colin (Pollock) for me to nibble on, they have another called Pouting! Can you believe it? It is a common fish from around the British coastline. I bet Victoria Beckham eats it all the time to achieve her magnificent pout! I’ve tried pouting in front of the mirror to make me look alluring and sexy but to be honest I just look stupid!
Talking about fish, have you seen the new and unusual fish pedicure? You lower your feet into a tank of around 150 Garra fish. They have no teeth and nibble away at dead skin using suction-shaped mouths leaving new skin underneath untouched. The carp which originate from Turkey have been used in the Far East to treat skin complaints such as eczema and psoriasis. I think I’d be happy to give it a go if it isn’t too expensive.......on the other hand maybe I could buy a couple of piranhas, they could probably do the job in half the time!!!
I have been having a major ponder! Should I have my first tattoo done or another piercing? I only have my ears pierced at the moment (very normal) but should I get my nipples done too? Could come in very handy in later life! Simply thread string through the nipple rings and then just hoist them over your shoulders to achieve that pert look again. Umm sorted! Sorry to deranged friend Chris, he hates it when I mention nipples. (He leads a sheltered life)!!
On the thought of updating my profile I am seriously thinking about having belly dancing lessons. When fully trained and ready to ripple and thrust I could apply for a position at Colin Firth’s favourite Lebanese restaurant. I could shake my bits over his main course with allurement! There is a class not too far away from me in Wembley. I like that idea very much. Must invest in chiffon skirts and hip scarves immediately!
I am off to my 2nd golf lesson soon with my hunky instructor Rob. He is so strict with me and will not let me wear heels of any sort whilst on the golf course. Neither does he think my knee high boots and mini skirt are suitable attire! Rob or Robsey, as I like to call him, lent me a glove to protect my delicate hand against blisters while I was hacking about with the club (not stick as I thought it was called). He only gave me one glove. Poor guy is obviously not rich enough for two! I felt like Michael Jackson and was not averse to moon walking round the links! Sir was not amused! Spoil sport. I just love to thrash about in the sandpit (bunker Robsey calls it). I can see myself being an expert on it very soon! Watch out Tiger Woods, I know this is a golfer and not the tiger advertising Kellogs Frosties!
See you next time.
“FORE!” (A golf term which means, ‘mind your bloody head,
mad person’s ball coming through’
P.D. Scott xxx
Oh alas, woe is me! I have heard from Channel 4 about my screenplay at last. They sent a very helpful, if upsetting letter, pointing me in a different direction. Again I have been told that they don’t accept unsolicited scripts, nor do they make their own programmes. So I have sent my script off AGAIN to a literary agent who deals with scripts and screenplays. I can’t help thinking this is a pointless task, it feels like the last chance saloon somehow. You can’t knock me for trying though. A lot of people say I’m trying, but that’s something completely different!! I have also been in touch with a publisher who deals with authors without the need of those blasted literary agents. So I will be submitting my books to them!
On a recent expedition to the local super market to replenish my larder with Spaghetti Hoops, I espied yet another sort of fish for my culinary delight. Not only do they have my favourite Colin (Pollock) for me to nibble on, they have another called Pouting! Can you believe it? It is a common fish from around the British coastline. I bet Victoria Beckham eats it all the time to achieve her magnificent pout! I’ve tried pouting in front of the mirror to make me look alluring and sexy but to be honest I just look stupid!
Talking about fish, have you seen the new and unusual fish pedicure? You lower your feet into a tank of around 150 Garra fish. They have no teeth and nibble away at dead skin using suction-shaped mouths leaving new skin underneath untouched. The carp which originate from Turkey have been used in the Far East to treat skin complaints such as eczema and psoriasis. I think I’d be happy to give it a go if it isn’t too expensive.......on the other hand maybe I could buy a couple of piranhas, they could probably do the job in half the time!!!
I have been having a major ponder! Should I have my first tattoo done or another piercing? I only have my ears pierced at the moment (very normal) but should I get my nipples done too? Could come in very handy in later life! Simply thread string through the nipple rings and then just hoist them over your shoulders to achieve that pert look again. Umm sorted! Sorry to deranged friend Chris, he hates it when I mention nipples. (He leads a sheltered life)!!
On the thought of updating my profile I am seriously thinking about having belly dancing lessons. When fully trained and ready to ripple and thrust I could apply for a position at Colin Firth’s favourite Lebanese restaurant. I could shake my bits over his main course with allurement! There is a class not too far away from me in Wembley. I like that idea very much. Must invest in chiffon skirts and hip scarves immediately!
I am off to my 2nd golf lesson soon with my hunky instructor Rob. He is so strict with me and will not let me wear heels of any sort whilst on the golf course. Neither does he think my knee high boots and mini skirt are suitable attire! Rob or Robsey, as I like to call him, lent me a glove to protect my delicate hand against blisters while I was hacking about with the club (not stick as I thought it was called). He only gave me one glove. Poor guy is obviously not rich enough for two! I felt like Michael Jackson and was not averse to moon walking round the links! Sir was not amused! Spoil sport. I just love to thrash about in the sandpit (bunker Robsey calls it). I can see myself being an expert on it very soon! Watch out Tiger Woods, I know this is a golfer and not the tiger advertising Kellogs Frosties!
See you next time.
“FORE!” (A golf term which means, ‘mind your bloody head,
mad person’s ball coming through’
P.D. Scott xxx
Wednesday 6 October 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR! October 2010- Part twenty
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
October 2010- Part twenty
Allow me first to introduce myself to you all. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire. I have offered my services to Miss Scott as she is away taking the waters in Bath for her health. I have not the smallest intention of doing this on a regular basis but when Miss Scott informed me that her mind was like a tumble-drier full of monkeys I knew she needed my assistance. My fashionable friend Miss Kate Moss, suggested I send Miss Scott with much haste in my own carriage, to the confines of the Spa. It is I believe, conducive to your health if you drink 8 pints of water per day from the Pump Room. My thoughts are with her and I hope Miss Scott’s fine eyes will be brightened by the exercise and water.
Forgive me, but I am not comfortable with this medium of writing. I am much at home with a quill but I will do my best. I find it almost as difficult to handle this laptop as I do my PlayStation 3, but I have made excellent progress with that! As you can imagine the words of Twitter and Facebook are alien to me, but one must always be open to new ideas. I have had the opportunity to try a ‘dance-mat’ and although the style of movement is not exactly what I am used to, I think I am excelling at it immensely.
I have become alarmed at some of the indescribable vistas that come onto the screen of the laptop. I must inform you that wayward ladies in their ‘scanties’ are available to view. I am shocked, at this state of affairs!
I was vexed to find that Mr Wickham, that abominable gutter-snipe has been a constant visitor to Miss Scott’s abode. Indeed I fear this could be the very reason for her failing health. If he calls again when I am attending her pussy I will not be amused. The feline is quite ill favoured, and I am sure will not want to witness a duel in the grounds!
Another person I have found spending much of his time in the grounds is indeed of questionable character. He has assured me he is a gardener of unrivalled quality. He is a floppy haired gentleman, and I use that term loosely, as he spends too many hours in the shrubbery tending the plants for my liking. I have told him to ‘Sod Off’ but alas to no avail, he says he must make sure Miss Scott’s bush is neatly trimmed at all times.
Miss Scott’s residence is a charming house. ‘Scott Towers’ is not on the same grand scale of Pemberley of course but it very pleasing to behold. It does lack family portraits and not one of Miss Scott or her friends! Miss Scott has but one likeness of a roguish gentleman on the wall in the kitchen. On the front it is written- Colin Firth Unofficial Calendar. It is most unsettling to watch the eyes of this fellow following you about the room as you are preparing your Faggots!
There is a large lake in the grounds, containing many carp and trout, excellent for fishing if that is your bent. I, on the other hand prefer to swim in the lake.....indeed I cannot avert myself from plunging in at every given opportunity. I take pleasure in walking along with a dripping, white shirt, clinging to my every manly contour. There must be something to cure me of this trait......leeches perhaps? Mr Bingley my good friend; is looking to find someone to advise me on my ill; it may mean an extensive voyage to far off shores.
I am much aggrieved to find Miss Scott has been slightly lax with her delivery man. She has made an unpardonable error of allowing him to place his silver-tops, creamy yoghurt and ‘Stinking Bishop’ (a rather rancid smelling cheese that smells like it was scraped from Satan’s navel) on the doorstep in full view of all her neighbours. Clearly he should be aware that he must bring them to the tradesmen’s entrance. I will be reprimanding him in the first instance!
While I am at home, residing on my Pemberley estate I have little of consequence to worry me. I have an efficient housekeeper who arranges everything most admirably for my convenience. So as you can appreciate I was at my wit’s end whilst trying to wash my own breeches yesterday. I should not have tampered with them had I not found frogspawn in the groin area from a recent lake-plunging episode. I fear I may have added too much starch to them, as now when I walk there appears to be a loud crackling noise. I confess the entire situation has made me much like a bear with a wicked temper.
Miss Scott still awaits news concerning her screenplay. I am assured she will tell you as soon as she hears anything of importance. She is in a state of uncertainty and rarely sleeps soundly.....perhaps I should offer to massage her back?
I entertain high hopes that Miss Scott will soon be recovered enough to write her next essay. But if she is still indisposed I hope you would not find it too insufferable to bear my drivel again next time. Under my peculiar sort of dry, blunt manner, I hope you know I have the warmest of hearts.
I know now how insufficient all my pretentions were to amuse people worthy of being amused and for this I apologise most profoundly.
I must away now, as I have an urgent hankering for Turkey Twizzlers with Spaghetti Hoops!
Good tidings to you all.
Fitzwilliam Darcy
October 2010- Part twenty
Allow me first to introduce myself to you all. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire. I have offered my services to Miss Scott as she is away taking the waters in Bath for her health. I have not the smallest intention of doing this on a regular basis but when Miss Scott informed me that her mind was like a tumble-drier full of monkeys I knew she needed my assistance. My fashionable friend Miss Kate Moss, suggested I send Miss Scott with much haste in my own carriage, to the confines of the Spa. It is I believe, conducive to your health if you drink 8 pints of water per day from the Pump Room. My thoughts are with her and I hope Miss Scott’s fine eyes will be brightened by the exercise and water.
Forgive me, but I am not comfortable with this medium of writing. I am much at home with a quill but I will do my best. I find it almost as difficult to handle this laptop as I do my PlayStation 3, but I have made excellent progress with that! As you can imagine the words of Twitter and Facebook are alien to me, but one must always be open to new ideas. I have had the opportunity to try a ‘dance-mat’ and although the style of movement is not exactly what I am used to, I think I am excelling at it immensely.
I have become alarmed at some of the indescribable vistas that come onto the screen of the laptop. I must inform you that wayward ladies in their ‘scanties’ are available to view. I am shocked, at this state of affairs!
I was vexed to find that Mr Wickham, that abominable gutter-snipe has been a constant visitor to Miss Scott’s abode. Indeed I fear this could be the very reason for her failing health. If he calls again when I am attending her pussy I will not be amused. The feline is quite ill favoured, and I am sure will not want to witness a duel in the grounds!
Another person I have found spending much of his time in the grounds is indeed of questionable character. He has assured me he is a gardener of unrivalled quality. He is a floppy haired gentleman, and I use that term loosely, as he spends too many hours in the shrubbery tending the plants for my liking. I have told him to ‘Sod Off’ but alas to no avail, he says he must make sure Miss Scott’s bush is neatly trimmed at all times.
Miss Scott’s residence is a charming house. ‘Scott Towers’ is not on the same grand scale of Pemberley of course but it very pleasing to behold. It does lack family portraits and not one of Miss Scott or her friends! Miss Scott has but one likeness of a roguish gentleman on the wall in the kitchen. On the front it is written- Colin Firth Unofficial Calendar. It is most unsettling to watch the eyes of this fellow following you about the room as you are preparing your Faggots!
There is a large lake in the grounds, containing many carp and trout, excellent for fishing if that is your bent. I, on the other hand prefer to swim in the lake.....indeed I cannot avert myself from plunging in at every given opportunity. I take pleasure in walking along with a dripping, white shirt, clinging to my every manly contour. There must be something to cure me of this trait......leeches perhaps? Mr Bingley my good friend; is looking to find someone to advise me on my ill; it may mean an extensive voyage to far off shores.
I am much aggrieved to find Miss Scott has been slightly lax with her delivery man. She has made an unpardonable error of allowing him to place his silver-tops, creamy yoghurt and ‘Stinking Bishop’ (a rather rancid smelling cheese that smells like it was scraped from Satan’s navel) on the doorstep in full view of all her neighbours. Clearly he should be aware that he must bring them to the tradesmen’s entrance. I will be reprimanding him in the first instance!
While I am at home, residing on my Pemberley estate I have little of consequence to worry me. I have an efficient housekeeper who arranges everything most admirably for my convenience. So as you can appreciate I was at my wit’s end whilst trying to wash my own breeches yesterday. I should not have tampered with them had I not found frogspawn in the groin area from a recent lake-plunging episode. I fear I may have added too much starch to them, as now when I walk there appears to be a loud crackling noise. I confess the entire situation has made me much like a bear with a wicked temper.
Miss Scott still awaits news concerning her screenplay. I am assured she will tell you as soon as she hears anything of importance. She is in a state of uncertainty and rarely sleeps soundly.....perhaps I should offer to massage her back?
I entertain high hopes that Miss Scott will soon be recovered enough to write her next essay. But if she is still indisposed I hope you would not find it too insufferable to bear my drivel again next time. Under my peculiar sort of dry, blunt manner, I hope you know I have the warmest of hearts.
I know now how insufficient all my pretentions were to amuse people worthy of being amused and for this I apologise most profoundly.
I must away now, as I have an urgent hankering for Turkey Twizzlers with Spaghetti Hoops!
Good tidings to you all.
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Sunday 26 September 2010
September 28th 2010- Part nineteen. Postcard from Menorca
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
September 28th 2010- Part nineteen. Postcard from Menorca
Hello, I’m back, like the proverbial bad penny.
Good news- I didn’t get nibbled by any fiendish mosquitoes! Hooray! Bad news- I didn’t get nibbled by anything of human form either! Boo!
The weather in Menorca was changeable to say the least, there were storms, wind; rain and unfortunately the sun spent a lot of time hiding, but on the plus side I do have some white bits! I had the most amazing room. When I threw open the balcony door I literally gasped with delight at the view. On one side was the deep navy blue sea complete with lighthouse, then directly below were the lush grounds with two swimming pools. Over on the right was the uber-expensive marina where I could frequently be found shouting ‘Hello sailor!’ to anyone who’d listen. After dark the vista would change, the boats seemed to bob up and down on the almost black millstone water, casting different coloured lights like Royal gems of India. One down side to the room occurred after I’d had a couple of pitchers of sangria. When comatose with alcohol lying prostrate on my bed, my eyes became strangely drawn to a shape in the plaster on the ceiling. I convinced myself there was a head of a yeti up there and he had the desire to devour me. Terrifying!!
On the first evening, whilst dining in the restaurant the manager came up to me to shake my hand. Bless his little cotton socks, he actually remembered me from my previous visit. Is that a good thing do you think? Or had I disgraced myself so horribly he couldn’t fail to recall my naughtiness. Not sure if it was anything to do with my hazy memories of dancing with ‘Dizzy the Dolphin’. I hasten to add ‘Dizzy’ was a holiday rep in a zip-up suit. Any rumours of further ‘goings on’ with the said dolphin are all diabolical lies! Sadly the rep was nowhere to be seen this time. I hope I didn’t put him off repping! Not everyone is as ‘difficult’ as I am........sorry. Perhaps his employers didn’t appreciate his sudden appearance in the pages of the Sunday papers. This year the head of the entertainment team was Antonio and he was very amusing. He spent the entire time encouraging everyone to twist his nipples, spank his bottom whilst calling his name (I resisted the urge)! Ha-ha.
I hate to admit it, but what started out as such a good idea turned out to be a bit of a holiday nightmare. I was a little tipsy as I walked towards a huge mechanical rodeo bull. I’m only 5ft 2in so I wondered with mounting fear how I was going to get up onto the beast. I clambered up as stylishly and elegantly as possible, after all you never know when your knight in shining armour is going to pass your way. I sat astride the brutish animal, wrapping my eager thighs around tightly, feeling strangely confident............yes I was actually going to do it! That was the last thought I had before the man proceeded to turn the machine on. Then it was scarcely 2 minutes before I came crashing down headfirst onto the dirty floor. How embarrassed was I? I picked myself up and hobbled away from the horrible animal rubbing my buttocks as I went (in the most dignified and chic manner I could muster). I looked around......nobody appeared to have noticed my unfortunate misdemeanour. I can assure you I won’t be repeating my alcohol induced adventure in the future. Two Euros was not well spent!!!
I was sorely disappointed to find no word of my screenplay, short story or novel. I was imagining arriving home to thousands of acceptance letters (I have a vivid imagination). I’m guessing if it was good news I would have heard something by now. So once again I feel like giving up and retreating into a dark corner with my tail between my legs.......but I have 3 months left of my year to make my dreams happen, so I must plod on.
I can’t believe it is only September and some shops have started decorating them for Christmas already! It sure makes you forget your holiday fast, from sun-cream to sparkly tinsel in precisely one week.
The next blog will be written by a guest blogger! No it isn’t Colin Firth although he would be more than welcome to do it, if he so wishes. Anyone speaking to him in the not too distant future could indeed mention it!
Be good and take care, people.
P.D. Scott x
(With bruised bum cheeks!)
September 28th 2010- Part nineteen. Postcard from Menorca
Hello, I’m back, like the proverbial bad penny.
Good news- I didn’t get nibbled by any fiendish mosquitoes! Hooray! Bad news- I didn’t get nibbled by anything of human form either! Boo!
The weather in Menorca was changeable to say the least, there were storms, wind; rain and unfortunately the sun spent a lot of time hiding, but on the plus side I do have some white bits! I had the most amazing room. When I threw open the balcony door I literally gasped with delight at the view. On one side was the deep navy blue sea complete with lighthouse, then directly below were the lush grounds with two swimming pools. Over on the right was the uber-expensive marina where I could frequently be found shouting ‘Hello sailor!’ to anyone who’d listen. After dark the vista would change, the boats seemed to bob up and down on the almost black millstone water, casting different coloured lights like Royal gems of India. One down side to the room occurred after I’d had a couple of pitchers of sangria. When comatose with alcohol lying prostrate on my bed, my eyes became strangely drawn to a shape in the plaster on the ceiling. I convinced myself there was a head of a yeti up there and he had the desire to devour me. Terrifying!!
On the first evening, whilst dining in the restaurant the manager came up to me to shake my hand. Bless his little cotton socks, he actually remembered me from my previous visit. Is that a good thing do you think? Or had I disgraced myself so horribly he couldn’t fail to recall my naughtiness. Not sure if it was anything to do with my hazy memories of dancing with ‘Dizzy the Dolphin’. I hasten to add ‘Dizzy’ was a holiday rep in a zip-up suit. Any rumours of further ‘goings on’ with the said dolphin are all diabolical lies! Sadly the rep was nowhere to be seen this time. I hope I didn’t put him off repping! Not everyone is as ‘difficult’ as I am........sorry. Perhaps his employers didn’t appreciate his sudden appearance in the pages of the Sunday papers. This year the head of the entertainment team was Antonio and he was very amusing. He spent the entire time encouraging everyone to twist his nipples, spank his bottom whilst calling his name (I resisted the urge)! Ha-ha.
I hate to admit it, but what started out as such a good idea turned out to be a bit of a holiday nightmare. I was a little tipsy as I walked towards a huge mechanical rodeo bull. I’m only 5ft 2in so I wondered with mounting fear how I was going to get up onto the beast. I clambered up as stylishly and elegantly as possible, after all you never know when your knight in shining armour is going to pass your way. I sat astride the brutish animal, wrapping my eager thighs around tightly, feeling strangely confident............yes I was actually going to do it! That was the last thought I had before the man proceeded to turn the machine on. Then it was scarcely 2 minutes before I came crashing down headfirst onto the dirty floor. How embarrassed was I? I picked myself up and hobbled away from the horrible animal rubbing my buttocks as I went (in the most dignified and chic manner I could muster). I looked around......nobody appeared to have noticed my unfortunate misdemeanour. I can assure you I won’t be repeating my alcohol induced adventure in the future. Two Euros was not well spent!!!
I was sorely disappointed to find no word of my screenplay, short story or novel. I was imagining arriving home to thousands of acceptance letters (I have a vivid imagination). I’m guessing if it was good news I would have heard something by now. So once again I feel like giving up and retreating into a dark corner with my tail between my legs.......but I have 3 months left of my year to make my dreams happen, so I must plod on.
I can’t believe it is only September and some shops have started decorating them for Christmas already! It sure makes you forget your holiday fast, from sun-cream to sparkly tinsel in precisely one week.
The next blog will be written by a guest blogger! No it isn’t Colin Firth although he would be more than welcome to do it, if he so wishes. Anyone speaking to him in the not too distant future could indeed mention it!
Be good and take care, people.
P.D. Scott x
(With bruised bum cheeks!)
Saturday 11 September 2010
September 10th 2010- Part eighteen
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
September 10th 2010- Part eighteen
I’ve had some amazing news! No I haven’t had anything published or met Colin Firth (don’t be daft). If you haven’t read my Wall on Facebook you won’t be aware that The Penguin Book group in the UK is for a brief period only, open to receiving unsolicited manuscripts! How fantastic is that? No searching for elusive literary agent. I have sent them my synopsis and cover letter via e-mail (they don’t accept snail mail) and hope to hear back from them soon. So I have my fingers, toes and eyes crossed for luck, which makes it rather difficult to type! Hoorah!
I went out for a Chinese banquet last week with all the usual suspects, plus one extra person. You’ve heard of Superman, Batman etc. well I have met the nicest man who I will call for now ‘Tool Hire Man’, we get on really well and what he doesn’t know about power tools is no one’s business. Thankfully he doesn’t wear his underpants over his trousers, so that’s a bonus! I have invited him round to demonstrate his electrical appliances. He has promised to let me view his electric Poker-Vibrator with a massive 32mm diameter, no doubt you all know that it is used to settle wet cement into those stubborn corners! Obvious really.........you didn’t think it was anything sinister did you? I must admit I am very thrilled at the thought of seeing that. He has also left a catalogue for me to peruse at my leisure. Exciting bedtime reading for me then! I will of course keep you posted about ‘Tool Hire Man’. I wonder how he would feel about dressing up in breeches, white shirt and a lacy cravat? Too early to enquire do you think?
My deranged friends Chris and Zoe are away on their jolly holidays to Tunisia at the moment. They have gone for a very much needed, 7 night break. Zoe is desperate to be parading a tan when she gets back, more natural I hope than her spray tan! She looked a similar shade to an over- ripe Satsuma when I dropped them off at the airport. Hopefully Chris will not be bartering with the locals to exchange his beloved Zoe for 2 camels and a goat!
Talking of much needed holidays, on Friday I am flying away to Menorca. I’ve been having a heated debate with myself concerning my packing. Usually I like to take a few new clothes on holiday with me, I’m not sure why but I always have. Is it the sensible thing to do, though? Or should I take my oldish clothes in case of accidents? I do always seem to attract the dirt; I suppose you could call me a grime magnet! You know how easy it is to pick up tar on the beach and don’t get me started on camel spit!
I will not be attempting to epilate my poor legs this time as I have an extremely low pain threshold. It really isn’t worth frightening the neighbours with my ear-piercing screams of near torture, just to have silken smooth legs. I’m afraid it will be back to the trusted razor for me......not as good as waxing but there’s nothing wrong with the were-wolf look!
Menorca is a little jewel of an island plonked in the Mediterranean Sea. It is the second largest of the Balearic Islands, dotted with quiet fishing villages, made for wholesome family fun.....bad luck I’m on my way! Mahon is the capital and also where mayonnaise is thought to come from originally. The island is also famous for gin. Yuk I hate gin (only good for cleaning your jewellery). Aside from the serene environ that this stunning island is famous for, it is well-known for the strong breezes. Hence, the island is also deemed The Windy City. I’ll have to remember to take a thick woollen hat and scarf set to wear with my bikini. How utterly attractive! I will be heading to the extreme south west coast to Cala’n Bosch. It is within walking distance of two lovely beaches and a marina, where all the people with money ‘hang out’ on their expensive boats. Must make a note: Promenade along the marina daily, in order to seek out millionaires and/or celebrities. Do you think it might look a trifle strange to strut round the marina in a pair of flip-flops, tiara and ball gown? Maybe that would be slightly over the top! Best stick with something understated I think. Perhaps a pair of faux leopard skin leggings with a bejewelled corset and stilettos. Perfect!
Cala’n Bosch is very busy in the summer season but as soon as all the tourists go home there is only 107 people registered as living there. The hotel where I’m staying has more guests than that alone! I will no doubt be taking my note pad with me, so I can fill you in with all the gossip on my return (like it or not).
Lastly I must finish this blog by wishing Colin (buns of steel) Firth a very Happy 50th Birthday. The cake is iced and ready. So are the pink, fluffy handcuffs, if you still like that sort of thing!
More next time when I return................ Take care, people!
P.D. Scott xx
September 10th 2010- Part eighteen
I’ve had some amazing news! No I haven’t had anything published or met Colin Firth (don’t be daft). If you haven’t read my Wall on Facebook you won’t be aware that The Penguin Book group in the UK is for a brief period only, open to receiving unsolicited manuscripts! How fantastic is that? No searching for elusive literary agent. I have sent them my synopsis and cover letter via e-mail (they don’t accept snail mail) and hope to hear back from them soon. So I have my fingers, toes and eyes crossed for luck, which makes it rather difficult to type! Hoorah!
I went out for a Chinese banquet last week with all the usual suspects, plus one extra person. You’ve heard of Superman, Batman etc. well I have met the nicest man who I will call for now ‘Tool Hire Man’, we get on really well and what he doesn’t know about power tools is no one’s business. Thankfully he doesn’t wear his underpants over his trousers, so that’s a bonus! I have invited him round to demonstrate his electrical appliances. He has promised to let me view his electric Poker-Vibrator with a massive 32mm diameter, no doubt you all know that it is used to settle wet cement into those stubborn corners! Obvious really.........you didn’t think it was anything sinister did you? I must admit I am very thrilled at the thought of seeing that. He has also left a catalogue for me to peruse at my leisure. Exciting bedtime reading for me then! I will of course keep you posted about ‘Tool Hire Man’. I wonder how he would feel about dressing up in breeches, white shirt and a lacy cravat? Too early to enquire do you think?
My deranged friends Chris and Zoe are away on their jolly holidays to Tunisia at the moment. They have gone for a very much needed, 7 night break. Zoe is desperate to be parading a tan when she gets back, more natural I hope than her spray tan! She looked a similar shade to an over- ripe Satsuma when I dropped them off at the airport. Hopefully Chris will not be bartering with the locals to exchange his beloved Zoe for 2 camels and a goat!
Talking of much needed holidays, on Friday I am flying away to Menorca. I’ve been having a heated debate with myself concerning my packing. Usually I like to take a few new clothes on holiday with me, I’m not sure why but I always have. Is it the sensible thing to do, though? Or should I take my oldish clothes in case of accidents? I do always seem to attract the dirt; I suppose you could call me a grime magnet! You know how easy it is to pick up tar on the beach and don’t get me started on camel spit!
I will not be attempting to epilate my poor legs this time as I have an extremely low pain threshold. It really isn’t worth frightening the neighbours with my ear-piercing screams of near torture, just to have silken smooth legs. I’m afraid it will be back to the trusted razor for me......not as good as waxing but there’s nothing wrong with the were-wolf look!
Menorca is a little jewel of an island plonked in the Mediterranean Sea. It is the second largest of the Balearic Islands, dotted with quiet fishing villages, made for wholesome family fun.....bad luck I’m on my way! Mahon is the capital and also where mayonnaise is thought to come from originally. The island is also famous for gin. Yuk I hate gin (only good for cleaning your jewellery). Aside from the serene environ that this stunning island is famous for, it is well-known for the strong breezes. Hence, the island is also deemed The Windy City. I’ll have to remember to take a thick woollen hat and scarf set to wear with my bikini. How utterly attractive! I will be heading to the extreme south west coast to Cala’n Bosch. It is within walking distance of two lovely beaches and a marina, where all the people with money ‘hang out’ on their expensive boats. Must make a note: Promenade along the marina daily, in order to seek out millionaires and/or celebrities. Do you think it might look a trifle strange to strut round the marina in a pair of flip-flops, tiara and ball gown? Maybe that would be slightly over the top! Best stick with something understated I think. Perhaps a pair of faux leopard skin leggings with a bejewelled corset and stilettos. Perfect!
Cala’n Bosch is very busy in the summer season but as soon as all the tourists go home there is only 107 people registered as living there. The hotel where I’m staying has more guests than that alone! I will no doubt be taking my note pad with me, so I can fill you in with all the gossip on my return (like it or not).
Lastly I must finish this blog by wishing Colin (buns of steel) Firth a very Happy 50th Birthday. The cake is iced and ready. So are the pink, fluffy handcuffs, if you still like that sort of thing!
More next time when I return................ Take care, people!
P.D. Scott xx
Thursday 26 August 2010
28th August 2010 - Part 17
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
August 28th 2010-Part seventeen
I must start this blog by writing a retraction! In a few of my past blogs I may have led you to believe that manic Michelle has an ongoing fetish for pirates! I must admit I may have embellished the truth slightly. Michelle does not have pirate barbeques, nor does she have fortnightly pirate meetings. She does not have a yearly trip to Majorca to watch the ‘Pirates’ show. Nor does she walk about her village with pirate clothes on......that would just be weird. Michelle is not going away this weekend to another pirate convention (she is). There I think I have wriggled out of that quite well!
News flash! The B.B.C. sent me a rejection letter last week, worded exactly the same as the previous one concerning my screenplay. I’m not down about it, but it would have been an absolute hoot if they’d accepted it this time under another title. I have already posted it away again to another company (Channel 4 television). I’m very upbeat about everything and have taken it unusually well. You don’t think I could be getting used to being rejected do you? I suppose it depends what time of the month I receive the rejection letter (if you get my meaning).
I haven’t heard anything from the Short Story Competition yet, I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. The entries were due in on the 21st of August, the winner receives a net book and their story will be published on the website. Even if I don’t win, it has been an experience and I will let you know if a miracle does happen.
Now from literary news, we move to my neighbourhood gossip. My good friend Sara, but we’ll call her ‘Liz’ for the sake of her anonymity, took her son to the doctor’s with a urine sample, as he wasn’t his usual cheeky self. When it was time to phone the doctor for the results, she asked if she could make the call from my house, in case it was bad news. I didn’t mind at all, and sat next to her with a box of tissues and my shoulder to cry on if need be. She looked relieved as she put the handset down. Apparently all it needed was a course of antibiotics because ‘Liz’ explained that her little boy had traces of orgasms in his urine. I was shocked to say the least as he was only 3, but later found out what she meant to say was organisms. Dear ‘Liz’ (not Sara) has her own vocabulary for everything and makes me howl with laughter!
I told you in the last blog, how I had a mammoth clear out to rid myself of some hideous clothes. I decided it was high time I treated myself to some new underwear. You never know when you’ll be called upon to flash your knickers, so it is important to have a few new vibrant pairs at the ready. My mum told me to make sure you always had nice underwear on, in case of accidents! It’s quite amusing really, as I don’t suppose the doctors are really that bothered if you have a nice matching bra and pants set on when you are being wheeled into the emergency room at the local hospital! The burning question is do I buy lovely coloured ‘Bolster Holders’? Or do I buy ‘virginal white’ which soon turns to ‘chewing gum grey’? I don’t know why the manufacturers don’t make them grey to start with and just be done with it!
So now my wardrobe is in order I am going to attack my bedroom. Out with the satin duvet covers and fitted sheets. They look very seductive and alluring if you are having someone special to ‘stay over’ but it’s a devil of a job to keep yourself secure in bed. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to retrieve my pillow from the floor in the middle of the night. I will keep the pillow cases though, because satin is excellent to stop you waking up with mega-deep furrows on your face (not the best look). I also need to buy a headboard so I won’t get so many scratch marks up the wallpaper. The least said about that the better........
My unusual and sordid catalogue has arrived once more from Amsterdam (see part 16). This time they’ve sent me a complimentary D.V.D to view at my leisure. I’m honestly not a prude but goodness me I will find it difficult to ever look at, or eat, an onion ring again. How the devil they film some of the angles I’ll never know! Chris, (my deranged friend) is convinced that my Christmas card catalogue has diversified into smut...........I don’t think so! I have to be very careful when I put the shredded catalogues into the recycling bag. I don’t know what the neighbours would think if they saw buxom, naked, ladies blowing up and down the road! It could be worse I suppose, they could send a rep round to show me his wares!
I forgot to tell you about my new follower on Twitter. You’ll never guess. I’m being followed by P.D. Scott! Yes that’s right, I had a direct message from P.D. telling me he had received a few messages that were meant for me. He is male, I’m not! He lives in Ireland, I don’t! He doesn’t fancy Colin Firth although he knows where I’m coming from, ha-ha. So if you want to follow my inane tweets on Twitter it is pdscott_ (remember to add the little line) or if you want to follow the other person, leave the line out. As Alexander the meerkat would say *SIMPLES!*
Bye for now.
P.D. Scott
August 28th 2010-Part seventeen
I must start this blog by writing a retraction! In a few of my past blogs I may have led you to believe that manic Michelle has an ongoing fetish for pirates! I must admit I may have embellished the truth slightly. Michelle does not have pirate barbeques, nor does she have fortnightly pirate meetings. She does not have a yearly trip to Majorca to watch the ‘Pirates’ show. Nor does she walk about her village with pirate clothes on......that would just be weird. Michelle is not going away this weekend to another pirate convention (she is). There I think I have wriggled out of that quite well!
News flash! The B.B.C. sent me a rejection letter last week, worded exactly the same as the previous one concerning my screenplay. I’m not down about it, but it would have been an absolute hoot if they’d accepted it this time under another title. I have already posted it away again to another company (Channel 4 television). I’m very upbeat about everything and have taken it unusually well. You don’t think I could be getting used to being rejected do you? I suppose it depends what time of the month I receive the rejection letter (if you get my meaning).
I haven’t heard anything from the Short Story Competition yet, I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. The entries were due in on the 21st of August, the winner receives a net book and their story will be published on the website. Even if I don’t win, it has been an experience and I will let you know if a miracle does happen.
Now from literary news, we move to my neighbourhood gossip. My good friend Sara, but we’ll call her ‘Liz’ for the sake of her anonymity, took her son to the doctor’s with a urine sample, as he wasn’t his usual cheeky self. When it was time to phone the doctor for the results, she asked if she could make the call from my house, in case it was bad news. I didn’t mind at all, and sat next to her with a box of tissues and my shoulder to cry on if need be. She looked relieved as she put the handset down. Apparently all it needed was a course of antibiotics because ‘Liz’ explained that her little boy had traces of orgasms in his urine. I was shocked to say the least as he was only 3, but later found out what she meant to say was organisms. Dear ‘Liz’ (not Sara) has her own vocabulary for everything and makes me howl with laughter!
I told you in the last blog, how I had a mammoth clear out to rid myself of some hideous clothes. I decided it was high time I treated myself to some new underwear. You never know when you’ll be called upon to flash your knickers, so it is important to have a few new vibrant pairs at the ready. My mum told me to make sure you always had nice underwear on, in case of accidents! It’s quite amusing really, as I don’t suppose the doctors are really that bothered if you have a nice matching bra and pants set on when you are being wheeled into the emergency room at the local hospital! The burning question is do I buy lovely coloured ‘Bolster Holders’? Or do I buy ‘virginal white’ which soon turns to ‘chewing gum grey’? I don’t know why the manufacturers don’t make them grey to start with and just be done with it!
So now my wardrobe is in order I am going to attack my bedroom. Out with the satin duvet covers and fitted sheets. They look very seductive and alluring if you are having someone special to ‘stay over’ but it’s a devil of a job to keep yourself secure in bed. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to retrieve my pillow from the floor in the middle of the night. I will keep the pillow cases though, because satin is excellent to stop you waking up with mega-deep furrows on your face (not the best look). I also need to buy a headboard so I won’t get so many scratch marks up the wallpaper. The least said about that the better........
My unusual and sordid catalogue has arrived once more from Amsterdam (see part 16). This time they’ve sent me a complimentary D.V.D to view at my leisure. I’m honestly not a prude but goodness me I will find it difficult to ever look at, or eat, an onion ring again. How the devil they film some of the angles I’ll never know! Chris, (my deranged friend) is convinced that my Christmas card catalogue has diversified into smut...........I don’t think so! I have to be very careful when I put the shredded catalogues into the recycling bag. I don’t know what the neighbours would think if they saw buxom, naked, ladies blowing up and down the road! It could be worse I suppose, they could send a rep round to show me his wares!
I forgot to tell you about my new follower on Twitter. You’ll never guess. I’m being followed by P.D. Scott! Yes that’s right, I had a direct message from P.D. telling me he had received a few messages that were meant for me. He is male, I’m not! He lives in Ireland, I don’t! He doesn’t fancy Colin Firth although he knows where I’m coming from, ha-ha. So if you want to follow my inane tweets on Twitter it is pdscott_ (remember to add the little line) or if you want to follow the other person, leave the line out. As Alexander the meerkat would say *SIMPLES!*
Bye for now.
P.D. Scott
Thursday 12 August 2010
More mad rantings!
DIARY OF AFRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
August 12th 2010-Part sixteen
Why oh why, can’t I just once wake up without looking as if I have been spewed from the bowels of hell? If I were a Hollywood Superstar I would rise from my bed with full make-up and not a hair out of place. As it is, I look like a migrating Yak (a very stylish and chic one of course). I figure I wasn’t put on this earth to be a Siren or sex-goddess. I suppose I’m more of a ‘girl next door’ type, but if you lived next door to me no doubt you would put your house on the market instantly!
I have been on a mission since I wrote the last blog. I have made a drastic decision to change myself, starting with my sinister belongings. A sophisticated, chic woman would not have a plastic penis with eyes, hanging from her kitchen cupboard, so that was first to go! Next I rooted through my extremely sad C.D. collection. Oh my! I’m not even going to admit to some of the outrageous monsters that were lurking in the rack. Then it was on to my wardrobe. Any item of apparel that hadn’t been worn since the old king was on the throne or didn’t fit over my bulging curves was thrown into a black sack. I took time to colour code my clothes, so I could see at a glance what elegant piece would match another. I bet you think I have too much time on my hands...........you could be right! What on earth the local charity shop will make of all my gifts heaven only knows. I will be checking daily to see if my plastic penis key ring is displayed proudly in the window. Suggest it won’t be. I feel much better for ridding myself of all the abominable clutter. I am cleansed of everything mischievous and corrupt, which must make me grown-up and polished now, mustn’t it? Must put the house up for sale immediately and buy a more stylish abode in Chiswick! Then book in for a charisma and head transplant, then I’ll be sorted!
Every 6 weeks or so, the postman delivers a rather dubious catalogue to me. It is full of unsavoury and unusual items! How can I write this without causing offence? Right I’ll come straight out and say it – SEX TOYS! How they got my name and address I’ll never know, it’s not as if I’ve ever purchased a ‘battery powered appliance’ from them. Wait a minute I don’t think I ordered my pink, fluffy handcuffs from them! O.K. let’s move on..........
For the moment, I’ve given my novel a rest because I suddenly had a mega inspiration for a new screenplay. No sexy psychologist this time for Colin Firth to play, but there is another part he could portray if things are desperate for him! I am very excited about the play which helps my creative juices to keep flowing. I’ve also just completed writing a short story for a competition......it’s all go you know! I hardly have time to blow my nose these days.
I’m having a dilemma concerning a neighbour! Her house backs onto mine, with our gardens separating us. Every time she has a shower, the entire world can see her bits and bobs through her window, even though her bathroom window is frosted. If I knew her it wouldn’t be a problem, I would simply go round to her house and let her know that she is giving the neighbours a free show every time she does her ablutions! But as I have never uttered a single word to her it seems wrong to knock on her door and tell her the news! Perhaps I should write an anonymous letter and post it through her door but that seems slightly cowardly. I wish I was a nicer person and then I would do the right thing! I’ve just thought! Maybe the woman is an exhibitionist and enjoys shaking her ample body for everyone to see. Oh well, I’ll let sleeping dogs lie then.
Talking about neighbours, the couple next door have just adopted a 3yr old little girl. Once their house was a quiet, incomplete dwelling but through the thin walls I can hear the laughter and contentment of a happy family playing. Perfect! No I am not feeling broody, honest.
Right I’m off to find something diabolical to do now.
Byeeeeeee!
P.D. Scott xx
August 12th 2010-Part sixteen
Why oh why, can’t I just once wake up without looking as if I have been spewed from the bowels of hell? If I were a Hollywood Superstar I would rise from my bed with full make-up and not a hair out of place. As it is, I look like a migrating Yak (a very stylish and chic one of course). I figure I wasn’t put on this earth to be a Siren or sex-goddess. I suppose I’m more of a ‘girl next door’ type, but if you lived next door to me no doubt you would put your house on the market instantly!
I have been on a mission since I wrote the last blog. I have made a drastic decision to change myself, starting with my sinister belongings. A sophisticated, chic woman would not have a plastic penis with eyes, hanging from her kitchen cupboard, so that was first to go! Next I rooted through my extremely sad C.D. collection. Oh my! I’m not even going to admit to some of the outrageous monsters that were lurking in the rack. Then it was on to my wardrobe. Any item of apparel that hadn’t been worn since the old king was on the throne or didn’t fit over my bulging curves was thrown into a black sack. I took time to colour code my clothes, so I could see at a glance what elegant piece would match another. I bet you think I have too much time on my hands...........you could be right! What on earth the local charity shop will make of all my gifts heaven only knows. I will be checking daily to see if my plastic penis key ring is displayed proudly in the window. Suggest it won’t be. I feel much better for ridding myself of all the abominable clutter. I am cleansed of everything mischievous and corrupt, which must make me grown-up and polished now, mustn’t it? Must put the house up for sale immediately and buy a more stylish abode in Chiswick! Then book in for a charisma and head transplant, then I’ll be sorted!
Every 6 weeks or so, the postman delivers a rather dubious catalogue to me. It is full of unsavoury and unusual items! How can I write this without causing offence? Right I’ll come straight out and say it – SEX TOYS! How they got my name and address I’ll never know, it’s not as if I’ve ever purchased a ‘battery powered appliance’ from them. Wait a minute I don’t think I ordered my pink, fluffy handcuffs from them! O.K. let’s move on..........
For the moment, I’ve given my novel a rest because I suddenly had a mega inspiration for a new screenplay. No sexy psychologist this time for Colin Firth to play, but there is another part he could portray if things are desperate for him! I am very excited about the play which helps my creative juices to keep flowing. I’ve also just completed writing a short story for a competition......it’s all go you know! I hardly have time to blow my nose these days.
I’m having a dilemma concerning a neighbour! Her house backs onto mine, with our gardens separating us. Every time she has a shower, the entire world can see her bits and bobs through her window, even though her bathroom window is frosted. If I knew her it wouldn’t be a problem, I would simply go round to her house and let her know that she is giving the neighbours a free show every time she does her ablutions! But as I have never uttered a single word to her it seems wrong to knock on her door and tell her the news! Perhaps I should write an anonymous letter and post it through her door but that seems slightly cowardly. I wish I was a nicer person and then I would do the right thing! I’ve just thought! Maybe the woman is an exhibitionist and enjoys shaking her ample body for everyone to see. Oh well, I’ll let sleeping dogs lie then.
Talking about neighbours, the couple next door have just adopted a 3yr old little girl. Once their house was a quiet, incomplete dwelling but through the thin walls I can hear the laughter and contentment of a happy family playing. Perfect! No I am not feeling broody, honest.
Right I’m off to find something diabolical to do now.
Byeeeeeee!
P.D. Scott xx
Thursday 29 July 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
July 30th 2010- Part fifteen
Tip of the day- Do not over use exclamation marks....nothing is that exciting!!!!!!!!!
I’ve decided to come clean about my cunning plan concerning the B.B.C. If you remember I was devastated at having received a rejection letter from them, saying they had read the first ten pages of my screen play but as they were so busy they weren’t going to take it any further. Well, I was discussing it with the deranged pair (Chris and Zoe) and they said I should send it in again. They seemed to think that if the readers were so busy they probably wouldn’t remember my script. Chris and Zoe were only joking, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. So I did a really cheeky thing. I printed off another page complete with a new title, accompanied it with a different letter containing a slightly different synopsis and without delay sent it to them again. A week later I had a card saying that my script was in the writers room waiting to be read and I would hear in a couple of months. How amusing would it be, if this time the same screenplay got through? I am a naughty minx! Failing this naughtiness, I have four more addresses to send my script to, including Channel 4 Television and Talkback Thames Production. I will not be beaten!! (Yet)
I had a very bad start to the week. My neighbour came knocking at my door looking slightly miffed. He explained that my darling bamboo had escaped from my garden and had turned up in the middle of his lawn. Crikey, I was dumbfounded, I knew it was over zealous in my garden but I hadn’t guessed it would go and visit the neighbours! After much debating, I agreed I would dig it up and put something nasty on the roots to stop it taking over the world. Life would have been so much simpler had I put in something normal.....like a rose bush!
Each year I spend a lot of the summer going to barbeques, which is astounding really considering the English weather. The last one was hosted by (deranged friends) Chris and Zoe. For three years they both worked abroad as holiday reps. Last year they lived in Cancun, Mexico (yes through all the swine flu). Anyway I’m digressing, Chris made this ‘thing’ (side dish) called ceviche. It’s a Mexican seafood dish containing prawns, coriander, red onions, lime juice etc. It was so refreshing and I was so impressed......watch out Chef Ramsay! I spent the afternoon grappling with Zoe....trying to get the wine away from her! It’s sad how Zoe has a major problem sharing alcohol.......naughty whippersnapper!!! It’s when she’s indulging in wine that she starts to do ‘peculiar’ things. I guess we shouldn’t go there as this blog is not X-rated. That’s an idea. Blogs to be read after the watershed! I like it!!! Could Blogspot ban me from that, I wonder? I could call it ‘The Exploits of a Sex Fiend from the Suburbs!’ Or ‘Mr Darcy- Gentleman or Sex Pervert?’ Oh dear, I can hear Jane Austen spinning in her grave.
I recently read from somewhere on the internet that if in doubt when you are writing a screenplay put in a funny sex scene. I suppose it applies to books as well. I’m going with that theory anyway. So far my new book consists of around 7 funny sex scenes. Too much do you think? Probably!
You’ll all be disappointed to learn that Mr Darcy (the fox) has deserted my road. He has obviously had a better offer. No doubt in a neighbourhood known to have classier rubbish for him to rummage in, caviar or truffles for example. Mr Darcy is a scoundrel and a cad and must be expelled from polite society this instance!
What a disaster! Yesterday, I plunged myself into my rather full, bubble bath, which caused a mini Tsunami. A dangerous amount of water seeped down into the kitchen via the ceiling, perilously close to the electric spotlights. Obviously it wasn’t my time to meet my maker! Relief!! Must remember not to overfill bath in future, or take Colin Firth in to bathe with me....will have to stick with rubber duck (not so much fun).
See you later.
P.D. Scott xx
July 30th 2010- Part fifteen
Tip of the day- Do not over use exclamation marks....nothing is that exciting!!!!!!!!!
I’ve decided to come clean about my cunning plan concerning the B.B.C. If you remember I was devastated at having received a rejection letter from them, saying they had read the first ten pages of my screen play but as they were so busy they weren’t going to take it any further. Well, I was discussing it with the deranged pair (Chris and Zoe) and they said I should send it in again. They seemed to think that if the readers were so busy they probably wouldn’t remember my script. Chris and Zoe were only joking, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. So I did a really cheeky thing. I printed off another page complete with a new title, accompanied it with a different letter containing a slightly different synopsis and without delay sent it to them again. A week later I had a card saying that my script was in the writers room waiting to be read and I would hear in a couple of months. How amusing would it be, if this time the same screenplay got through? I am a naughty minx! Failing this naughtiness, I have four more addresses to send my script to, including Channel 4 Television and Talkback Thames Production. I will not be beaten!! (Yet)
I had a very bad start to the week. My neighbour came knocking at my door looking slightly miffed. He explained that my darling bamboo had escaped from my garden and had turned up in the middle of his lawn. Crikey, I was dumbfounded, I knew it was over zealous in my garden but I hadn’t guessed it would go and visit the neighbours! After much debating, I agreed I would dig it up and put something nasty on the roots to stop it taking over the world. Life would have been so much simpler had I put in something normal.....like a rose bush!
Each year I spend a lot of the summer going to barbeques, which is astounding really considering the English weather. The last one was hosted by (deranged friends) Chris and Zoe. For three years they both worked abroad as holiday reps. Last year they lived in Cancun, Mexico (yes through all the swine flu). Anyway I’m digressing, Chris made this ‘thing’ (side dish) called ceviche. It’s a Mexican seafood dish containing prawns, coriander, red onions, lime juice etc. It was so refreshing and I was so impressed......watch out Chef Ramsay! I spent the afternoon grappling with Zoe....trying to get the wine away from her! It’s sad how Zoe has a major problem sharing alcohol.......naughty whippersnapper!!! It’s when she’s indulging in wine that she starts to do ‘peculiar’ things. I guess we shouldn’t go there as this blog is not X-rated. That’s an idea. Blogs to be read after the watershed! I like it!!! Could Blogspot ban me from that, I wonder? I could call it ‘The Exploits of a Sex Fiend from the Suburbs!’ Or ‘Mr Darcy- Gentleman or Sex Pervert?’ Oh dear, I can hear Jane Austen spinning in her grave.
I recently read from somewhere on the internet that if in doubt when you are writing a screenplay put in a funny sex scene. I suppose it applies to books as well. I’m going with that theory anyway. So far my new book consists of around 7 funny sex scenes. Too much do you think? Probably!
You’ll all be disappointed to learn that Mr Darcy (the fox) has deserted my road. He has obviously had a better offer. No doubt in a neighbourhood known to have classier rubbish for him to rummage in, caviar or truffles for example. Mr Darcy is a scoundrel and a cad and must be expelled from polite society this instance!
What a disaster! Yesterday, I plunged myself into my rather full, bubble bath, which caused a mini Tsunami. A dangerous amount of water seeped down into the kitchen via the ceiling, perilously close to the electric spotlights. Obviously it wasn’t my time to meet my maker! Relief!! Must remember not to overfill bath in future, or take Colin Firth in to bathe with me....will have to stick with rubber duck (not so much fun).
See you later.
P.D. Scott xx
Thursday 15 July 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
July 16th 2010- Part fourteen
I start this blog with a little tinge of green on my skin....................No it isn’t war paint or a new tattoo of the ‘Incredible Hulk’, it is something called envy or maybe jealousy. I keep reading various articles about ‘Z’ list celebrities bringing out novels or autobiographies. I suppose that’s my problem...........no one will take a chance on me because I am a nonentity. The answer is clear I have to do something so outrageous that I couldn’t possibly go under the radar! But I have a dilemma you see, I’m the sort of person who hates to fail at things and sometimes that even stops me from trying, but I mustn’t stop now! No publicity is bad publicity, so I have to think of something rebellious and shocking to do! Umm, a porn star perhaps...............no it would be too much for my nun-like existence. Get caught doing something ‘unusual’ in Colin Firth’s back garden! Not sure about this one......I wouldn’t like to frighten his family. Chain and handcuff myself, to literary agents’ railings until my books get published..........good idea.............I like it! I quite fancy myself as Emmeline Pankhurst of the suffragette movement! Plus handcuffs in every situation are an absolute must!! Maybe the least said about my exploits with handcuffs the better!!!!
Manic Michelle (the pirate lover, who denies it a little too often) invited me over for a barbeque. I was surprised at the amount of unsavoury pirate sorts that were there, swigging the rum! One particularly interesting character was Ralph, well he said his name was Ralph but I suspected it may have been a cover up. His real name could have been Bluebeard for all I know. The jigging in the rigging type of dancing went down well with everyone. You can’t beat a sailor’s hornpipe to set the party in motion can you? I have no idea what makes pirates so fascinating to Michelle but the theme carries on! The day was lovely, got lots of ideas to put in my blogs, or books, mainly about the colourful characters...........of course I will change their names to protect the innocent!
The first half of the summer has been crammed full of sports, comprising mostly of tennis, and football, dotted with the occasional Ferret race of course. I have enjoyed the tennis, and as for the football............I’ve enjoyed the tennis. I’m sorry but I can’t get excited over men and their balls!!
My house smells unusually nice today. I have picked loads of English Lavender from my garden and placed it in vases around the house. It’s nicer than the normal aroma of the cat’s litter tray, I can assure you! My fluff ball of a feline must be the only cat that comes in from the garden to take a piddle. What a marvellous mental image you must have of my house.
It was a big mistake not to try out the new colour in my favourite make-up range before I purchased it from the shop. I simply applied the foundation and left the house, only to be informed by a number of now ex-friends that I resembled a Geisha girl. I am guessing it was a shade or two too light, white to be precise! It could have started a new trend I suppose, but I binned it anyway!
When Chris and Zoe (the deranged pair) moved to their enchanted flat, Chris left me with his set of weights. So I decided to get fit and banish my bingo wings. I took them into the empty, small bedroom.....loads of room to exercise and spread out. There used to be a futon in the room but it’s disappeared. Yes I know it’s careless to lose a futon, but I have a sneaky suspicion Zoe ran off with it! Anyway there I was leaping about to the dulcet tones of Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel like a demented Gazelle. Singing or should I say howling along to the song, whilst lifting the small sized weights up and down. I suddenly realised I was being watched by someone (no, not Hugh Grant). My window cleaner was looking at me and laughing his head off at my performance, trying his best not to fall from his ladder. I am blushing now, as I remember! It could have been worse I could have been prancing around in my underwear I suppose, but luckily I had my shorts and vest top on. He sent his helper to my front door to get the money. I can’t stand this guy...... he undresses you with his eyes..... he is nothing short of a sleaze bucket! I’m not usually hostile, but he has the kind of face you just want to slap. That was the first and last day of my fitness regime, and the last time I had the windows cleaned by the gruesome twosome.
Next blog I will spill the beans about the screen play! Ha-ha!!
Take care ‘til next time.
P.D. Scott xx
July 16th 2010- Part fourteen
I start this blog with a little tinge of green on my skin....................No it isn’t war paint or a new tattoo of the ‘Incredible Hulk’, it is something called envy or maybe jealousy. I keep reading various articles about ‘Z’ list celebrities bringing out novels or autobiographies. I suppose that’s my problem...........no one will take a chance on me because I am a nonentity. The answer is clear I have to do something so outrageous that I couldn’t possibly go under the radar! But I have a dilemma you see, I’m the sort of person who hates to fail at things and sometimes that even stops me from trying, but I mustn’t stop now! No publicity is bad publicity, so I have to think of something rebellious and shocking to do! Umm, a porn star perhaps...............no it would be too much for my nun-like existence. Get caught doing something ‘unusual’ in Colin Firth’s back garden! Not sure about this one......I wouldn’t like to frighten his family. Chain and handcuff myself, to literary agents’ railings until my books get published..........good idea.............I like it! I quite fancy myself as Emmeline Pankhurst of the suffragette movement! Plus handcuffs in every situation are an absolute must!! Maybe the least said about my exploits with handcuffs the better!!!!
Manic Michelle (the pirate lover, who denies it a little too often) invited me over for a barbeque. I was surprised at the amount of unsavoury pirate sorts that were there, swigging the rum! One particularly interesting character was Ralph, well he said his name was Ralph but I suspected it may have been a cover up. His real name could have been Bluebeard for all I know. The jigging in the rigging type of dancing went down well with everyone. You can’t beat a sailor’s hornpipe to set the party in motion can you? I have no idea what makes pirates so fascinating to Michelle but the theme carries on! The day was lovely, got lots of ideas to put in my blogs, or books, mainly about the colourful characters...........of course I will change their names to protect the innocent!
The first half of the summer has been crammed full of sports, comprising mostly of tennis, and football, dotted with the occasional Ferret race of course. I have enjoyed the tennis, and as for the football............I’ve enjoyed the tennis. I’m sorry but I can’t get excited over men and their balls!!
My house smells unusually nice today. I have picked loads of English Lavender from my garden and placed it in vases around the house. It’s nicer than the normal aroma of the cat’s litter tray, I can assure you! My fluff ball of a feline must be the only cat that comes in from the garden to take a piddle. What a marvellous mental image you must have of my house.
It was a big mistake not to try out the new colour in my favourite make-up range before I purchased it from the shop. I simply applied the foundation and left the house, only to be informed by a number of now ex-friends that I resembled a Geisha girl. I am guessing it was a shade or two too light, white to be precise! It could have started a new trend I suppose, but I binned it anyway!
When Chris and Zoe (the deranged pair) moved to their enchanted flat, Chris left me with his set of weights. So I decided to get fit and banish my bingo wings. I took them into the empty, small bedroom.....loads of room to exercise and spread out. There used to be a futon in the room but it’s disappeared. Yes I know it’s careless to lose a futon, but I have a sneaky suspicion Zoe ran off with it! Anyway there I was leaping about to the dulcet tones of Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel like a demented Gazelle. Singing or should I say howling along to the song, whilst lifting the small sized weights up and down. I suddenly realised I was being watched by someone (no, not Hugh Grant). My window cleaner was looking at me and laughing his head off at my performance, trying his best not to fall from his ladder. I am blushing now, as I remember! It could have been worse I could have been prancing around in my underwear I suppose, but luckily I had my shorts and vest top on. He sent his helper to my front door to get the money. I can’t stand this guy...... he undresses you with his eyes..... he is nothing short of a sleaze bucket! I’m not usually hostile, but he has the kind of face you just want to slap. That was the first and last day of my fitness regime, and the last time I had the windows cleaned by the gruesome twosome.
Next blog I will spill the beans about the screen play! Ha-ha!!
Take care ‘til next time.
P.D. Scott xx
Thursday 1 July 2010
More mad ranting!
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
July 2nd 2010- Part thirteen
After the negative feelings I’ve had since I received my rejection letter from the B.B.C., I took a few days to nurse my bruised ego with the help of vast amounts of chocolate. I then dusted myself down and bounced back up again! You can’t keep a good girl down for long and there’s no dignity in moping around! Two quotes put everything back into perspective. The first was from Henry Ford “The way to succeed is to double your failure rate.” The second was from Mary Kay Ash saying “Sandwich every bit of criticism between two layers of praise.” I’m not after world domination......I just want someone to take a chance on me and publish my books. I expect poor Colin Firth is devastated too, about my screenplay not coming to fruition! He must be chomping at the bit to play the sexy psychologist. I have put my cunning plan into action (see last blog). I don’t think I’ll admit what I’m up to yet, in case someone in the know gets wind of it, but I will tell you if and when I can...............ha-ha, I can’t help giggling inside.
Move over Nigella Lawson....I am now a domestic goddess of unrivalled cleverness! No I don’t mean in the culinary fashion......my spicy meatballs are still revolting! They turn out as a spicy meat mess, not a ball in sight, actually! My creative genius is in the form of home-making. I have made a pair of curtains for Colin Firth’s room, when he finally moves in. Wow, how clever am I? It doesn’t matter that they are both different lengths does it? It is a fashion statement (it’s my story and I’m sticking to it). They look good when they’re open!
I have another rant coming on! What is it about the latest trend to wear your pyjamas to the supermarket? What’s that all about? Surely your night clothes are meant to be worn to bed (if Colin Firth’s not popping round for a sleep over). Or for simply, reclining on the sofa for a duvet day. Zoe, I know you’re my friend (deranged or not) but please take note, do not go to the shops in your P.J.’s to try to entice unsuspecting men back to your flat!! Rant over!
In the Royal British Legion near to where I live, there is a ‘Ladies Night’ coming up. I am being encouraged to go along and shake off my innocence. To be quite frank, naked firemen pointing their hoses and naked policeman waving their truncheons leaves me quite unmoved. I can assure you that if Colin Firth was on the stage showing off his rippling muscles and shaking his bits, I’d be in the front row!! So I will not be attending, in case I turn into a woman of easy virtue!
Every evening at precisely ten o’clock a fox comes visiting my road. It’s as if he has a very accurate time piece on his wrist. Do foxes have wrists? Even though there have been many documented reports on fox attacks on young children and small animals, I can’t help looking forward to his visits. I’ve named him ‘Mr Darcy’, as he’s quite dark, slim and saunters proudly down the road.........although I don’t think the human Mr Darcy would rip open rubbish sacks to find things to scavenge on, or like the fox leave little presents on the drive (poo)!!
Last Friday I ventured to the seaside with Captain Haddock. For any new readers to my blogs, Capt. Haddock is a car, not an unscrupulous, one legged pirate with a parrot on his shoulder! The weather was beautiful and I got my belly burnt (forgot the sun cream).Unfortunately the day was slightly marred by a terrifying experience! I got ambushed by a gang of evil seagulls........they waited until I was sitting comfortably and then about 6 million of them came after me. It was like a scene from Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’..............very scary! I suppose it will teach me not to have fish & chips on the beach.
Talking of scary things, my stalker (H.G. of Oxfordshire) has been absent of late. Has he finally got the message, I wonder? Oh no, he couldn’t be the phantom knicker, nicker could he? (See last blog) Odd things are once again afoot in the neighbourhood.
Please do not hurl heavy objects at your screen but I have made my first Christmas purchase of the year. I know I am a bit previous but before you ridicule me just think, I will have the last laugh when everyone else is scurrying about the shops on Christmas Eve while I will be reclining with my feet up!
I will tell you of any news in my next blog............ take care people!
That’s all folks!!
P.D. Scott xx
July 2nd 2010- Part thirteen
After the negative feelings I’ve had since I received my rejection letter from the B.B.C., I took a few days to nurse my bruised ego with the help of vast amounts of chocolate. I then dusted myself down and bounced back up again! You can’t keep a good girl down for long and there’s no dignity in moping around! Two quotes put everything back into perspective. The first was from Henry Ford “The way to succeed is to double your failure rate.” The second was from Mary Kay Ash saying “Sandwich every bit of criticism between two layers of praise.” I’m not after world domination......I just want someone to take a chance on me and publish my books. I expect poor Colin Firth is devastated too, about my screenplay not coming to fruition! He must be chomping at the bit to play the sexy psychologist. I have put my cunning plan into action (see last blog). I don’t think I’ll admit what I’m up to yet, in case someone in the know gets wind of it, but I will tell you if and when I can...............ha-ha, I can’t help giggling inside.
Move over Nigella Lawson....I am now a domestic goddess of unrivalled cleverness! No I don’t mean in the culinary fashion......my spicy meatballs are still revolting! They turn out as a spicy meat mess, not a ball in sight, actually! My creative genius is in the form of home-making. I have made a pair of curtains for Colin Firth’s room, when he finally moves in. Wow, how clever am I? It doesn’t matter that they are both different lengths does it? It is a fashion statement (it’s my story and I’m sticking to it). They look good when they’re open!
I have another rant coming on! What is it about the latest trend to wear your pyjamas to the supermarket? What’s that all about? Surely your night clothes are meant to be worn to bed (if Colin Firth’s not popping round for a sleep over). Or for simply, reclining on the sofa for a duvet day. Zoe, I know you’re my friend (deranged or not) but please take note, do not go to the shops in your P.J.’s to try to entice unsuspecting men back to your flat!! Rant over!
In the Royal British Legion near to where I live, there is a ‘Ladies Night’ coming up. I am being encouraged to go along and shake off my innocence. To be quite frank, naked firemen pointing their hoses and naked policeman waving their truncheons leaves me quite unmoved. I can assure you that if Colin Firth was on the stage showing off his rippling muscles and shaking his bits, I’d be in the front row!! So I will not be attending, in case I turn into a woman of easy virtue!
Every evening at precisely ten o’clock a fox comes visiting my road. It’s as if he has a very accurate time piece on his wrist. Do foxes have wrists? Even though there have been many documented reports on fox attacks on young children and small animals, I can’t help looking forward to his visits. I’ve named him ‘Mr Darcy’, as he’s quite dark, slim and saunters proudly down the road.........although I don’t think the human Mr Darcy would rip open rubbish sacks to find things to scavenge on, or like the fox leave little presents on the drive (poo)!!
Last Friday I ventured to the seaside with Captain Haddock. For any new readers to my blogs, Capt. Haddock is a car, not an unscrupulous, one legged pirate with a parrot on his shoulder! The weather was beautiful and I got my belly burnt (forgot the sun cream).Unfortunately the day was slightly marred by a terrifying experience! I got ambushed by a gang of evil seagulls........they waited until I was sitting comfortably and then about 6 million of them came after me. It was like a scene from Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’..............very scary! I suppose it will teach me not to have fish & chips on the beach.
Talking of scary things, my stalker (H.G. of Oxfordshire) has been absent of late. Has he finally got the message, I wonder? Oh no, he couldn’t be the phantom knicker, nicker could he? (See last blog) Odd things are once again afoot in the neighbourhood.
Please do not hurl heavy objects at your screen but I have made my first Christmas purchase of the year. I know I am a bit previous but before you ridicule me just think, I will have the last laugh when everyone else is scurrying about the shops on Christmas Eve while I will be reclining with my feet up!
I will tell you of any news in my next blog............ take care people!
That’s all folks!!
P.D. Scott xx
Thursday 17 June 2010
Back to reality- Part twelve
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
June 18th 2010- Part twelve
Firstly I would like to say a big thank you for all the positive remarks you sent me about my version of Pride & Prejudice. It was very kind of you ........it was a bit bonkers really, wasn’t it? The next and final instalment is in December, will Mr Firth and Miss Scott get together? Find out in ‘Christmas at Pemberley’.
The suntan has virtually faded away......... my diet is back on track, not helped by the arrival of an old fashioned sweet shop in the local town. There is only one possible answer to beat the post-holiday blues. So what is it? Book another holiday of course!! I have booked a week away for September. It was a choice between two places really, Menorca or Fuerteventura .Last time I stayed on the Canary Island of Fuerteventura, despite the lovely hotel and idyllic setting there was a major shock to my delicate disposition! I got talking to this pleasant enough man (he had the look of Popeye the sailor man, actually). He appeared harmless and a perfectly, respectable guy. Every morning he took his towel and headed down to the beach and foolishly I decided to join him. When I got my toes in the warm, talcum powder sand I was shocked at the sight around me. Oh my goodness Popeye was stark naked!!!! As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t seem to drag my eyes away from his meat and two veg.......it was mesmerising, for all the wrong reasons!! When I finally looked away I noticed almost everyone else on the beach happened to be naked too! My blasted Travel Agent hadn’t informed me I had booked into a resort known and loved to naturists......it was an extremely harrowing experience. I had two choices I could either, strip off and lay next to Popeye or else I could scamper back to the security of the hotel! Well of course I didn’t strip off........ I’ve had a very sheltered upbringing you know! I also admit to giving Popeye a wide berth for the rest of the holiday! So this time I will be returning to an old haunt on the Balearic island of Menorca. Hopefully the local police won’t be alerted to my arrival.
I have been stupid to pin all my hopes on the B.B.C. as the letter has finally arrived from them. It isn’t good news I’m afraid, my bubble has been burst! The script readers look at the first 10 pages in order to assess the writing and they have decided not to take things further. Bums, bums, bums!! I feel like creeping off into a dark corner to lick my wounds. I know you shouldn’t take things personally, but I do and it hurts. I will not be defeated........I have a cunning plan. Wait and see what I do next, hehe! In the meantime a spot of hedge-diving will soon sort me out and lift my mood! N.B. - Holly can be extremely tricky.....best to avoid!!
When I came back from my hols last month a series of events led me to believe that a favourite neighbour of mine had died. I was most upset that nobody had informed me of the death, nor asked me to contribute money towards flowers, etc. Then the weirdest thing happened, the doorbell rang and I answered it to find said neighbour, standing on my doorstep grinning inanely. I did a double take as I wondered if this man was still living, or a phantom of the most gruesome kind. Had he had a particularly messy lunch or was that ectoplasm on his shirt? How do you explain to someone kindly, that you thought they were demised and were now pushing up daisies? Anyway it was a very embarrassing five minutes to have.........the neighbour left thinking he was dead and/or that I was a complete lunatic!! Suggest he could have thought the latter to be true! Poor man!
Something else rather weird happened. Two pairs of pants went out on my washing line, only one came back in. Was it the strong winds or were the rife, rumours of a prolific, knicker-nicker really true? Have we got a pantie thief in the area? I fear we have!
The deranged pair, Chris and Zoe went to the cinema to see the much awaited film ‘Sex and the City 2’. Zoe was so excited she was like a puppy with two tails. Unlike Chris he couldn’t appear to muster any enthusiasm for it at all. He thinks that Sarah Jessica Parker has got a face like a foot and can’t understand what all the fuss is about!! Am I the only person in the world that has never seen the series or movies?
As soon as I’ve finished this blog I’m going to have a glass/bottle of red wine, a large bar of chocolate and a night in with Colin firth. Obviously it won’t be in the flesh, as his lovely wife Livia needs him, but I will put on my new D.V.D’s. Yes, I confess I succumbed again and bought ‘St Trinians 2’ and ‘A Single Man’ while I was supposed to be doing a food shop. I’m sorry but I’m not a virtuous woman! In fact you could say I’m very easily led.
Tomorrow the search starts again for the literary agent that doesn’t appear to exist!! Also I must put my cunning plan into action.
Catch you soon.
P.D. Scott xx Downtrodden? Not yet!!
June 18th 2010- Part twelve
Firstly I would like to say a big thank you for all the positive remarks you sent me about my version of Pride & Prejudice. It was very kind of you ........it was a bit bonkers really, wasn’t it? The next and final instalment is in December, will Mr Firth and Miss Scott get together? Find out in ‘Christmas at Pemberley’.
The suntan has virtually faded away......... my diet is back on track, not helped by the arrival of an old fashioned sweet shop in the local town. There is only one possible answer to beat the post-holiday blues. So what is it? Book another holiday of course!! I have booked a week away for September. It was a choice between two places really, Menorca or Fuerteventura .Last time I stayed on the Canary Island of Fuerteventura, despite the lovely hotel and idyllic setting there was a major shock to my delicate disposition! I got talking to this pleasant enough man (he had the look of Popeye the sailor man, actually). He appeared harmless and a perfectly, respectable guy. Every morning he took his towel and headed down to the beach and foolishly I decided to join him. When I got my toes in the warm, talcum powder sand I was shocked at the sight around me. Oh my goodness Popeye was stark naked!!!! As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t seem to drag my eyes away from his meat and two veg.......it was mesmerising, for all the wrong reasons!! When I finally looked away I noticed almost everyone else on the beach happened to be naked too! My blasted Travel Agent hadn’t informed me I had booked into a resort known and loved to naturists......it was an extremely harrowing experience. I had two choices I could either, strip off and lay next to Popeye or else I could scamper back to the security of the hotel! Well of course I didn’t strip off........ I’ve had a very sheltered upbringing you know! I also admit to giving Popeye a wide berth for the rest of the holiday! So this time I will be returning to an old haunt on the Balearic island of Menorca. Hopefully the local police won’t be alerted to my arrival.
I have been stupid to pin all my hopes on the B.B.C. as the letter has finally arrived from them. It isn’t good news I’m afraid, my bubble has been burst! The script readers look at the first 10 pages in order to assess the writing and they have decided not to take things further. Bums, bums, bums!! I feel like creeping off into a dark corner to lick my wounds. I know you shouldn’t take things personally, but I do and it hurts. I will not be defeated........I have a cunning plan. Wait and see what I do next, hehe! In the meantime a spot of hedge-diving will soon sort me out and lift my mood! N.B. - Holly can be extremely tricky.....best to avoid!!
When I came back from my hols last month a series of events led me to believe that a favourite neighbour of mine had died. I was most upset that nobody had informed me of the death, nor asked me to contribute money towards flowers, etc. Then the weirdest thing happened, the doorbell rang and I answered it to find said neighbour, standing on my doorstep grinning inanely. I did a double take as I wondered if this man was still living, or a phantom of the most gruesome kind. Had he had a particularly messy lunch or was that ectoplasm on his shirt? How do you explain to someone kindly, that you thought they were demised and were now pushing up daisies? Anyway it was a very embarrassing five minutes to have.........the neighbour left thinking he was dead and/or that I was a complete lunatic!! Suggest he could have thought the latter to be true! Poor man!
Something else rather weird happened. Two pairs of pants went out on my washing line, only one came back in. Was it the strong winds or were the rife, rumours of a prolific, knicker-nicker really true? Have we got a pantie thief in the area? I fear we have!
The deranged pair, Chris and Zoe went to the cinema to see the much awaited film ‘Sex and the City 2’. Zoe was so excited she was like a puppy with two tails. Unlike Chris he couldn’t appear to muster any enthusiasm for it at all. He thinks that Sarah Jessica Parker has got a face like a foot and can’t understand what all the fuss is about!! Am I the only person in the world that has never seen the series or movies?
As soon as I’ve finished this blog I’m going to have a glass/bottle of red wine, a large bar of chocolate and a night in with Colin firth. Obviously it won’t be in the flesh, as his lovely wife Livia needs him, but I will put on my new D.V.D’s. Yes, I confess I succumbed again and bought ‘St Trinians 2’ and ‘A Single Man’ while I was supposed to be doing a food shop. I’m sorry but I’m not a virtuous woman! In fact you could say I’m very easily led.
Tomorrow the search starts again for the literary agent that doesn’t appear to exist!! Also I must put my cunning plan into action.
Catch you soon.
P.D. Scott xx Downtrodden? Not yet!!
Thursday 3 June 2010
A Tongue in Cheek Blog in the Style of Jane Austen! June 4th 2010 – Part eleven PRIDE and PREJUDICE- Take two!
I was sitting in my bed chamber writing my correspondence at the bureau when I was rudely interrupted by my overexcited sister Michelle.
“He is come........he is come!” Michelle announced with a heaving bosom.
“Who is come?” I asked.
“Mr Firth is downstairs in the morning room waiting to see you!”
I glanced out of the bay-window and saw the stable lad leading Mr Firth’s fine, grey mare towards the stable block.
“He is a proud and most, disagreeable, man.” I huffed. “I should be perfectly content to stay in my room!”
“Please do not be so severe, sister.” Michelle said with a frown. “Why are you so out of spirits?”
“What would you have me do?” I said becoming increasingly diverted.
“You should go down and receive him.” Michelle said calmly. “I will come and chaperone for you.”
“Oh I wish I could think so well of people as you do, sister.”
“Amen to that.” Michelle said. “Come now, we will keep him waiting if we do not make haste.”
I nodded to Michelle even though I thought Mr Firth was one of the haughtiest and most aloof men I had ever had the misfortune to meet. I took a glimpse in the looking-glass before following Michelle from the room.
Mr Firth stood up as we entered and bowed from his waist. “Ladies, it is my pleasure to see you.”
We curtsied briefly.
“Mr Firth, please be seated.” I told him.
We all sat ourselves down in an uncomfortable, yet polite silence.
“I passed your younger sister Zoe walking out with a tall gentleman on the road to the village but five minutes since.” Mr Firth uttered breaking the unease.
“Oh yes, she was being escorted to the new, moving picture theatre by an acquaintance of ours.” I told him.
“Who was the gentleman?” He asked with interest.
“It was Master Chris Woods of the Grange.” Michelle said.
Mr Firth frowned. “I have heard his head is turned by the sight of a fine ankle. I am sure you do not want your sister’s reputation to be plunged into the gutter!”
Michelle became quite vexed. “I am sure our sister’s reputation will stay intact, sir.”
“I remember you saying that your good opinion once lost, is lost forever!” I told him. “What have you against our family friend?”
“I did not want to expose you to worry ladies.” He apologised. “I fear you should learn he is known to be a scoundrel and a cad. I would not let my sister Mabel, walk out alone with him.”
“Indeed Mr Firth, I do not think Zoe will come to any harm as our uncle and aunt will be meeting them there.” I said softly.
“What is the name of the moving picture?” Mr Firth asked.
“Bridget Jones’s Diary.” Michelle informed him.
“How ridiculous......it will never catch on.” He laughed.
“I am sure you are right, sir.” I agreed.
The room fell into another silence.
“There is a fine prospect from the window to the lake, Miss Scott.” Mr Firth said suddenly. “I have a great fondness for lakes!”
“Indeed.” I said with a coy smile.
“Would you like to take tea, Mr Firth?” Michelle asked.
“I thank you, but no.” He said stroking his sideburns.
I looked across at his bottle-green velvet jacket and his tight, white, breeches and came quite close to having the vapours!
“Mr Firth, would you be agreeable as to tell me why you are wearing a wet shirt?” I asked him.
“It is nothing of consequence, Miss Scott.”
“Please be accommodating and indulge my curiosity.”
A smile played on his lips. “It is something I have to endure Miss Scott. I cannot pass a lake without being overcome with an odd compulsion to leap into the water..........it is laughable is it not?”
“Indeed it is, sir.” I said with a smile. “Is that duckweed dangling from your breeches?”
“I believe so, Miss Scott.”
“Mr Firth, will you be attending the ball at the assembly rooms above ‘Pedro’s Pizza’ next week?” Michelle asked him.
“No Madam, I regret I will not.”
“He is come........he is come!” Michelle announced with a heaving bosom.
“Who is come?” I asked.
“Mr Firth is downstairs in the morning room waiting to see you!”
I glanced out of the bay-window and saw the stable lad leading Mr Firth’s fine, grey mare towards the stable block.
“He is a proud and most, disagreeable, man.” I huffed. “I should be perfectly content to stay in my room!”
“Please do not be so severe, sister.” Michelle said with a frown. “Why are you so out of spirits?”
“What would you have me do?” I said becoming increasingly diverted.
“You should go down and receive him.” Michelle said calmly. “I will come and chaperone for you.”
“Oh I wish I could think so well of people as you do, sister.”
“Amen to that.” Michelle said. “Come now, we will keep him waiting if we do not make haste.”
I nodded to Michelle even though I thought Mr Firth was one of the haughtiest and most aloof men I had ever had the misfortune to meet. I took a glimpse in the looking-glass before following Michelle from the room.
Mr Firth stood up as we entered and bowed from his waist. “Ladies, it is my pleasure to see you.”
We curtsied briefly.
“Mr Firth, please be seated.” I told him.
We all sat ourselves down in an uncomfortable, yet polite silence.
“I passed your younger sister Zoe walking out with a tall gentleman on the road to the village but five minutes since.” Mr Firth uttered breaking the unease.
“Oh yes, she was being escorted to the new, moving picture theatre by an acquaintance of ours.” I told him.
“Who was the gentleman?” He asked with interest.
“It was Master Chris Woods of the Grange.” Michelle said.
Mr Firth frowned. “I have heard his head is turned by the sight of a fine ankle. I am sure you do not want your sister’s reputation to be plunged into the gutter!”
Michelle became quite vexed. “I am sure our sister’s reputation will stay intact, sir.”
“I remember you saying that your good opinion once lost, is lost forever!” I told him. “What have you against our family friend?”
“I did not want to expose you to worry ladies.” He apologised. “I fear you should learn he is known to be a scoundrel and a cad. I would not let my sister Mabel, walk out alone with him.”
“Indeed Mr Firth, I do not think Zoe will come to any harm as our uncle and aunt will be meeting them there.” I said softly.
“What is the name of the moving picture?” Mr Firth asked.
“Bridget Jones’s Diary.” Michelle informed him.
“How ridiculous......it will never catch on.” He laughed.
“I am sure you are right, sir.” I agreed.
The room fell into another silence.
“There is a fine prospect from the window to the lake, Miss Scott.” Mr Firth said suddenly. “I have a great fondness for lakes!”
“Indeed.” I said with a coy smile.
“Would you like to take tea, Mr Firth?” Michelle asked.
“I thank you, but no.” He said stroking his sideburns.
I looked across at his bottle-green velvet jacket and his tight, white, breeches and came quite close to having the vapours!
“Mr Firth, would you be agreeable as to tell me why you are wearing a wet shirt?” I asked him.
“It is nothing of consequence, Miss Scott.”
“Please be accommodating and indulge my curiosity.”
A smile played on his lips. “It is something I have to endure Miss Scott. I cannot pass a lake without being overcome with an odd compulsion to leap into the water..........it is laughable is it not?”
“Indeed it is, sir.” I said with a smile. “Is that duckweed dangling from your breeches?”
“I believe so, Miss Scott.”
“Mr Firth, will you be attending the ball at the assembly rooms above ‘Pedro’s Pizza’ next week?” Michelle asked him.
“No Madam, I regret I will not.”
“Do you not like dancing, sir?” I asked.
“I believe I have not a hint of enthusiasm for it at all, Miss Scott.”
“Could it be that you are not an accomplished dancer, Mr Firth? Perhaps you are not interested in making connections of any sort?” I teased.
“Any savage can dance Miss Scott.” He said. “I have not the inclination to try to impress the ladies of the parish with my break-dancing moves!”
I hid a smile as I imagined the proud Mr Firth break-dancing to the pianoforte.
“Pray tell me sir, are your family quite well?” Michelle asked.
“I thank you yes they are all favoured with good health.”
Michelle smiled at the handsome acquaintance.
“I fear I should take my leave of you.” Mr Firth said as he arose from the chair. “I have heard word that there is a good deal on chicken thighs and ‘Pork Scratchings’ at Harrods!”
I exchanged a worried glance with my sister, knowing not the meaning of his strange speech.
“So soon Mr Firth, cannot we tempt you to try our baps?” Michelle asked. “They are fresh this very morning.”
“I thank you but no, I must hurry before the food hall closes its doors.”
“I did not know you held such an attraction to chicken thighs!” I said softly.
“Indeed I am accessibly attentive to all those things.” He said. “Before I go Miss Scott, may I be so bold as to speak alone with you?”
“I am afraid you shall not, sir!” Michelle scolded.
“I am sorry to displease you Madam.” Mr Firth said. “I take no delight in vexing you but I must speak alone with your sister.”
“Do you not know it is most improper?” I said quickly.
“It is a matter of delicacy and extreme importance, Miss Scott.” He continued.
“Michelle, would you trouble yourself as to go to the potting shed?” I asked politely as I straightened my full skirt. “Perhaps you could do something inspirational with a marrow!”
Michelle nodded and wafted serenely from the room.
“Miss Scott I am afraid this cannot be concealed.” Mr Firth said walking towards me.
“Mr Firth please do not ridicule me, I am not scared of your presence.”
“I would not have you so, Miss Scott.” He said as his eyes smouldered. “Do you not know what I must ask of you?”
“Indeed I do not sir........pray tell me why you appear to be so ill favoured with life?”
“Miss Scott.......dearest Miss Scott in vain I have struggled, it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I have come to feel for you a passionate regard and I beg you to relieve me of my pain and consent to be my wife.”
“Well slap my bum and call me a biscuit!” I shouted.
“Oh Miss Scott, you have bewitched me body and soul.” He said, preoccupied with his proposal.
“But Mr Firth is it not true that you have given your heart to another?”
“Pray excuse me but I know not to whom you refer?”
I frowned. “Miss Susan Boyle, I believe is the lady’s name!”
“She is tolerable I suppose but not handsome enough to tempt me.”
“Are you denying your dalliance with Miss Boyle?”
“I am Miss Scott.” Mr Firth looked furtive and uneasy. “I admit I have trifled with the karaoke machine with the lady but nothing else of consequence I can assure you!”
“I see, but still I cannot marry you.” I said with a sigh.
“Would I speak with your father, Miss Scott?”
“That is not possible sir....my father is no longer of this world.”
“I am grieved indeed!” He said sadly. “Pray tell me what has happened? I had the utmost respect for your father.”
“I thank you, Mr Firth.” I said sadly. “It is with regret that I must inform you he was savaged by an insane tiger at the zoological gardens in Regents Park.”
“That is a tragedy, Miss Scott.” Mr Firth said.
“It was indeed disturbing to be told your father had been a meal to a murderous pussy.”
We stood looking at each other, the uncomfortable silence returned once more.
Could it be I had misjudged this fine gentleman with his buttocks of steel?
“Surely it would not be an arrogant assumption for me to propose an offer of marriage to you?”
“I am sorry sir but I am betrothed to another.”
“And this is all the reply I can expect of you?” Mr Firth asked. “Pray tell me to whom you are engaged?”
“It is Major Huge Grunt of Oxfordshire.” I told him. “We shall be married before the month of September is out.”
“I believe I have not a hint of enthusiasm for it at all, Miss Scott.”
“Could it be that you are not an accomplished dancer, Mr Firth? Perhaps you are not interested in making connections of any sort?” I teased.
“Any savage can dance Miss Scott.” He said. “I have not the inclination to try to impress the ladies of the parish with my break-dancing moves!”
I hid a smile as I imagined the proud Mr Firth break-dancing to the pianoforte.
“Pray tell me sir, are your family quite well?” Michelle asked.
“I thank you yes they are all favoured with good health.”
Michelle smiled at the handsome acquaintance.
“I fear I should take my leave of you.” Mr Firth said as he arose from the chair. “I have heard word that there is a good deal on chicken thighs and ‘Pork Scratchings’ at Harrods!”
I exchanged a worried glance with my sister, knowing not the meaning of his strange speech.
“So soon Mr Firth, cannot we tempt you to try our baps?” Michelle asked. “They are fresh this very morning.”
“I thank you but no, I must hurry before the food hall closes its doors.”
“I did not know you held such an attraction to chicken thighs!” I said softly.
“Indeed I am accessibly attentive to all those things.” He said. “Before I go Miss Scott, may I be so bold as to speak alone with you?”
“I am afraid you shall not, sir!” Michelle scolded.
“I am sorry to displease you Madam.” Mr Firth said. “I take no delight in vexing you but I must speak alone with your sister.”
“Do you not know it is most improper?” I said quickly.
“It is a matter of delicacy and extreme importance, Miss Scott.” He continued.
“Michelle, would you trouble yourself as to go to the potting shed?” I asked politely as I straightened my full skirt. “Perhaps you could do something inspirational with a marrow!”
Michelle nodded and wafted serenely from the room.
“Miss Scott I am afraid this cannot be concealed.” Mr Firth said walking towards me.
“Mr Firth please do not ridicule me, I am not scared of your presence.”
“I would not have you so, Miss Scott.” He said as his eyes smouldered. “Do you not know what I must ask of you?”
“Indeed I do not sir........pray tell me why you appear to be so ill favoured with life?”
“Miss Scott.......dearest Miss Scott in vain I have struggled, it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I have come to feel for you a passionate regard and I beg you to relieve me of my pain and consent to be my wife.”
“Well slap my bum and call me a biscuit!” I shouted.
“Oh Miss Scott, you have bewitched me body and soul.” He said, preoccupied with his proposal.
“But Mr Firth is it not true that you have given your heart to another?”
“Pray excuse me but I know not to whom you refer?”
I frowned. “Miss Susan Boyle, I believe is the lady’s name!”
“She is tolerable I suppose but not handsome enough to tempt me.”
“Are you denying your dalliance with Miss Boyle?”
“I am Miss Scott.” Mr Firth looked furtive and uneasy. “I admit I have trifled with the karaoke machine with the lady but nothing else of consequence I can assure you!”
“I see, but still I cannot marry you.” I said with a sigh.
“Would I speak with your father, Miss Scott?”
“That is not possible sir....my father is no longer of this world.”
“I am grieved indeed!” He said sadly. “Pray tell me what has happened? I had the utmost respect for your father.”
“I thank you, Mr Firth.” I said sadly. “It is with regret that I must inform you he was savaged by an insane tiger at the zoological gardens in Regents Park.”
“That is a tragedy, Miss Scott.” Mr Firth said.
“It was indeed disturbing to be told your father had been a meal to a murderous pussy.”
We stood looking at each other, the uncomfortable silence returned once more.
Could it be I had misjudged this fine gentleman with his buttocks of steel?
“Surely it would not be an arrogant assumption for me to propose an offer of marriage to you?”
“I am sorry sir but I am betrothed to another.”
“And this is all the reply I can expect of you?” Mr Firth asked. “Pray tell me to whom you are engaged?”
“It is Major Huge Grunt of Oxfordshire.” I told him. “We shall be married before the month of September is out.”
“I suppose I should wish you well in your forthcoming nuptials.” He picked up his gloves and hat from the dresser. “Please forgive me in taking up your time........I wish you good luck, health and happiness.”
“Thank you sir, I am sorry for your suffering, it was not my aim.”
“I have no injuries to resent, madam.” Mr Firth said. “I see your heart is not easily touched, but if you decide not to throw yourself into the power of Major Huge Grunt, I will be honoured to renew our acquaintance.”
“I thank you, but I have not the smallest chance of yielding.”
“Then I must go madam, I fear you have long been requiring my absence and I do not wish to become tiresome!”
“Yes Mr Firth......good morrow to you.”
In an instant he was gone leaving the faint fragrance of Calvin Klein’s ‘Man’ (very popular with the ladies of the parish).
Of course I had told Mr Firth a falsehood. Indeed I was not engaged to Major Huge Grunt and nor would I want to be! I am not afflicted by false modesty but I knew I could not be Mr Firth’s wife; it would make me the most envied woman in the parish that is true ,but I fear he could not keep me in the manner I had become accustomed . I knew he would not be able to lavish me with sexy whale bone corsets, red wine and endless bags full of ‘Tom Thumb’ pips! So with a heavy heart I sent him away to sow his wild oats across the hills and dales of the county! In a few weeks my suffering would cease, even though I would have liked to play the quaint parlour game of ‘hide the sausage’ with him. I daresay I would bear my deprivation! My depression would soon be eased with a few games of Bingo down at the Co-op.
P.D. Scott xx
I would like to thank Miss Austen for the use of some of her dialogue, especially that old classic ‘slap my bum and call me a biscuit!’
Back to reality next blog!
“Thank you sir, I am sorry for your suffering, it was not my aim.”
“I have no injuries to resent, madam.” Mr Firth said. “I see your heart is not easily touched, but if you decide not to throw yourself into the power of Major Huge Grunt, I will be honoured to renew our acquaintance.”
“I thank you, but I have not the smallest chance of yielding.”
“Then I must go madam, I fear you have long been requiring my absence and I do not wish to become tiresome!”
“Yes Mr Firth......good morrow to you.”
In an instant he was gone leaving the faint fragrance of Calvin Klein’s ‘Man’ (very popular with the ladies of the parish).
Of course I had told Mr Firth a falsehood. Indeed I was not engaged to Major Huge Grunt and nor would I want to be! I am not afflicted by false modesty but I knew I could not be Mr Firth’s wife; it would make me the most envied woman in the parish that is true ,but I fear he could not keep me in the manner I had become accustomed . I knew he would not be able to lavish me with sexy whale bone corsets, red wine and endless bags full of ‘Tom Thumb’ pips! So with a heavy heart I sent him away to sow his wild oats across the hills and dales of the county! In a few weeks my suffering would cease, even though I would have liked to play the quaint parlour game of ‘hide the sausage’ with him. I daresay I would bear my deprivation! My depression would soon be eased with a few games of Bingo down at the Co-op.
P.D. Scott xx
I would like to thank Miss Austen for the use of some of her dialogue, especially that old classic ‘slap my bum and call me a biscuit!’
Back to reality next blog!
Thursday 20 May 2010
Postcard from Cyprus!
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR! POST CARD FROM CYPRUS
May 21st 2010- Part ten
Tip of the Day: Do not put wet towels into your suitcase unless you like the smell of festering monkeys!!
Hi I’m back! You’ll be disappointed to learn I didn’t win the competition to suck out a prawn’s head but apart from that major setback I had a fab holiday on the sun-kissed island of Cyprus.
Oh yes while I think of it.... can I give a tiny bit of fashion advice to all men who may be heading for the beach? Long, black, socks, worn with sandals and three quarter length trousers isn’t exactly a great look. It’s marginally better than wearing a pair of Speedos and having a bad case of budgie-smuggling, but only just!
On the outward journey there were no films to watch on the plane, as the T.V. screens were having technical problems, so I had to resort to my favourite hobby of people watching. In particular one man caught my eye. He seemed to spend the entire flight going to the loo. Yes he could have had travel sickness I suppose, or some dreadful ailment but I suspected different, he must have been attempting the mile high club (on his own)!! I’m not really sure of the rules, as I’m not a member. Is it really necessary to have a partner with you, or can you go it alone?
The hotel I stayed in was one of those new-fangled places that concentrate on your five senses. Firstly beautiful areas to look at, lovely smells wafting around the corridors and rooms, relaxing music (weird panpipes actually), scrummy food to devour and lastly touch, I guess it was the soft cotton sheets and Egyptian cotton towels but I could leave that to your imagination! In theory it’s a great idea but in practise it was more like a glorified nursing home, with spasmodic spurts of entertainment concerning a guy with a large saxophone! Shocking? You bet it was!! I could have had an excellent time with the opposite sex had I been into ‘coffin dodgers’ but I prefer a man to at least have a steady pulse. The major excitement of the daytime was, having to share the swimming pool with a rather bandy-legged creature (a huge menacing frog). I carried out a mini survey while I was holidaying in Cyprus and it appears that nearly everyone is called Stavros.......except for the women of course! There were no sightings of my stalker to report. Very odd I must say..........although in hindsight there was a suspiciously odd ‘girl’ tagging on to the end of a hen party. She was rather tall and had floppy hair.........no it couldn’t have been Mr. G could it? Still I enjoyed the break, and I am as relaxed as a concussed crustacean.
Update on my screenplay at the BBC- nothing to report!
Update on my deranged friends: A diabolical plan was afoot, set up by the London Underground to stop Chris and Zoe from getting to their X- Factor auditions. Simon Cowell doesn’t know how close he came to being abducted by Zoe and her ‘fairy cakes’. No trains, no auditions for them! Damn, fate was up to her fiendish tricks again!
Readers don’t feel too down for Chris and Zoe, there is always something exciting to look forward to. You’ll never guess..........Where manic Michelle lives (you know the friend who denies the pirate fetish) there is going to be a ‘Ferret Racing Night’. How great is that? I’m not exactly sure whether you have to take your own ferret or just bet on someone else’s. There is a hot meal included, furry mammal in a basket with a side order of chips, I hope! A licensed bar completes the fun so by the time the racing starts we won’t care anyway!! Isn’t English country life wonderful? I am very tempted to forsake old London town and move to the sticks immediately!
WARNING!!
Anyone of a nervous disposition, pregnant, or with back trouble; or anyone who simply has a love of pure Jane Austen, please be advised not to read my next blog. Pride and Prejudice- Take two, my version is coming to a screen near you, soon.
P.D. Scott. xx
May 21st 2010- Part ten
Tip of the Day: Do not put wet towels into your suitcase unless you like the smell of festering monkeys!!
Hi I’m back! You’ll be disappointed to learn I didn’t win the competition to suck out a prawn’s head but apart from that major setback I had a fab holiday on the sun-kissed island of Cyprus.
Oh yes while I think of it.... can I give a tiny bit of fashion advice to all men who may be heading for the beach? Long, black, socks, worn with sandals and three quarter length trousers isn’t exactly a great look. It’s marginally better than wearing a pair of Speedos and having a bad case of budgie-smuggling, but only just!
On the outward journey there were no films to watch on the plane, as the T.V. screens were having technical problems, so I had to resort to my favourite hobby of people watching. In particular one man caught my eye. He seemed to spend the entire flight going to the loo. Yes he could have had travel sickness I suppose, or some dreadful ailment but I suspected different, he must have been attempting the mile high club (on his own)!! I’m not really sure of the rules, as I’m not a member. Is it really necessary to have a partner with you, or can you go it alone?
The hotel I stayed in was one of those new-fangled places that concentrate on your five senses. Firstly beautiful areas to look at, lovely smells wafting around the corridors and rooms, relaxing music (weird panpipes actually), scrummy food to devour and lastly touch, I guess it was the soft cotton sheets and Egyptian cotton towels but I could leave that to your imagination! In theory it’s a great idea but in practise it was more like a glorified nursing home, with spasmodic spurts of entertainment concerning a guy with a large saxophone! Shocking? You bet it was!! I could have had an excellent time with the opposite sex had I been into ‘coffin dodgers’ but I prefer a man to at least have a steady pulse. The major excitement of the daytime was, having to share the swimming pool with a rather bandy-legged creature (a huge menacing frog). I carried out a mini survey while I was holidaying in Cyprus and it appears that nearly everyone is called Stavros.......except for the women of course! There were no sightings of my stalker to report. Very odd I must say..........although in hindsight there was a suspiciously odd ‘girl’ tagging on to the end of a hen party. She was rather tall and had floppy hair.........no it couldn’t have been Mr. G could it? Still I enjoyed the break, and I am as relaxed as a concussed crustacean.
Update on my screenplay at the BBC- nothing to report!
Update on my deranged friends: A diabolical plan was afoot, set up by the London Underground to stop Chris and Zoe from getting to their X- Factor auditions. Simon Cowell doesn’t know how close he came to being abducted by Zoe and her ‘fairy cakes’. No trains, no auditions for them! Damn, fate was up to her fiendish tricks again!
Readers don’t feel too down for Chris and Zoe, there is always something exciting to look forward to. You’ll never guess..........Where manic Michelle lives (you know the friend who denies the pirate fetish) there is going to be a ‘Ferret Racing Night’. How great is that? I’m not exactly sure whether you have to take your own ferret or just bet on someone else’s. There is a hot meal included, furry mammal in a basket with a side order of chips, I hope! A licensed bar completes the fun so by the time the racing starts we won’t care anyway!! Isn’t English country life wonderful? I am very tempted to forsake old London town and move to the sticks immediately!
WARNING!!
Anyone of a nervous disposition, pregnant, or with back trouble; or anyone who simply has a love of pure Jane Austen, please be advised not to read my next blog. Pride and Prejudice- Take two, my version is coming to a screen near you, soon.
P.D. Scott. xx
Friday 30 April 2010
Part 9 - 1st May 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
May 1st 2010-Part nine
On Wednesday I’m off to sunny Cyprus, the island of love. In Greek mythology, the goddess of love was born of the sea foam and drifted ashore in Cyprus on a sea shell.
I can’t wait! It’s an all inclusive, adults only, holiday. On the plus side I won’t get a beach ball hurled at my head by an energetic child in the swimming pool but on the down side I confess I will miss the ‘mini disco’. You can’t beat throwing some shapes on the dance floor to old classics like ‘Superman’ or ‘The Birdie Song’. I can’t help liking stupid songs! At least no children will be injured as I race to the front to do ‘Cartoon Heroes’ with the reps!!
I need a break to rest my mind from the enthusiastic characters from my novel....... they are literally running wild in my head! So I will just concentrate on relaxing and having some fun in the sun.
I bet you didn’t know, the cauliflower is said to have been introduced to Europe from Cyprus in 1604. Didn’t know and couldn’t care less eh? But just think what on earth would you put in your cauliflower cheese?
I’m looking forward to seeing the Loggerhead turtles in Cyprus, as long as it doesn’t involve going on the water. I hate boats......I only have to see one and I feel like vomiting. Manic Michelle took me to see Titanic at the cinema quite a few years back........it wasn’t good. I had to go straight home to bed because I felt so sea-sick....yuk!!! Hugh Grant’s always trying to get me to go on a rowing boat with him around Ruislip Lido but I’m not having any of it. I hope he doesn’t follow me to Cyprus...........it gets tiresome hiding from the floppy-haired stalker!
Although I’m very fond of the Greek cuisine I’m going to be very cautious. On a trip to Sardinia I had a lovely steak from the barbeque, yes it was steak but it wasn’t beef steak...............it was horse!! Oh my goodness I had been chomping on ‘Dobbin’ the flipping carthorse. It left me feeling very disturbed for the rest of the holiday...............many people say I’m still disturbed but for completely different reasons. When we went to The Seychelles, deranged Chris ordered Bat curry from a local restaurant we tried one evening. I felt really sorry for him as everyone at our table of 10 wanted to try it, so Chris ended up with only a small amount for himself. It always makes me titter with laughter when I go abroad and see Colin on the menu. So many European countries call the fish Pollock, Colin! I always order it because it’s the only time that I’ll ever get a nibble of Colin; even if it isn’t of the Firth variety. I’m so bad!!
I’d like to wish my deranged friends Chris and Zoe good luck in their X-Factor auditions (happening today). Whatever happens they are both stars in my eyes!!
Right I’m off to paint my toenails for the holiday and do some other personal things that might make my eyes water. Life’s a beach!
P.D. Scott xxx
May 1st 2010-Part nine
On Wednesday I’m off to sunny Cyprus, the island of love. In Greek mythology, the goddess of love was born of the sea foam and drifted ashore in Cyprus on a sea shell.
I can’t wait! It’s an all inclusive, adults only, holiday. On the plus side I won’t get a beach ball hurled at my head by an energetic child in the swimming pool but on the down side I confess I will miss the ‘mini disco’. You can’t beat throwing some shapes on the dance floor to old classics like ‘Superman’ or ‘The Birdie Song’. I can’t help liking stupid songs! At least no children will be injured as I race to the front to do ‘Cartoon Heroes’ with the reps!!
I need a break to rest my mind from the enthusiastic characters from my novel....... they are literally running wild in my head! So I will just concentrate on relaxing and having some fun in the sun.
I bet you didn’t know, the cauliflower is said to have been introduced to Europe from Cyprus in 1604. Didn’t know and couldn’t care less eh? But just think what on earth would you put in your cauliflower cheese?
I’m looking forward to seeing the Loggerhead turtles in Cyprus, as long as it doesn’t involve going on the water. I hate boats......I only have to see one and I feel like vomiting. Manic Michelle took me to see Titanic at the cinema quite a few years back........it wasn’t good. I had to go straight home to bed because I felt so sea-sick....yuk!!! Hugh Grant’s always trying to get me to go on a rowing boat with him around Ruislip Lido but I’m not having any of it. I hope he doesn’t follow me to Cyprus...........it gets tiresome hiding from the floppy-haired stalker!
Although I’m very fond of the Greek cuisine I’m going to be very cautious. On a trip to Sardinia I had a lovely steak from the barbeque, yes it was steak but it wasn’t beef steak...............it was horse!! Oh my goodness I had been chomping on ‘Dobbin’ the flipping carthorse. It left me feeling very disturbed for the rest of the holiday...............many people say I’m still disturbed but for completely different reasons. When we went to The Seychelles, deranged Chris ordered Bat curry from a local restaurant we tried one evening. I felt really sorry for him as everyone at our table of 10 wanted to try it, so Chris ended up with only a small amount for himself. It always makes me titter with laughter when I go abroad and see Colin on the menu. So many European countries call the fish Pollock, Colin! I always order it because it’s the only time that I’ll ever get a nibble of Colin; even if it isn’t of the Firth variety. I’m so bad!!
I’d like to wish my deranged friends Chris and Zoe good luck in their X-Factor auditions (happening today). Whatever happens they are both stars in my eyes!!
Right I’m off to paint my toenails for the holiday and do some other personal things that might make my eyes water. Life’s a beach!
P.D. Scott xxx
Thursday 15 April 2010
Part 8 - 16th April 2010
DIARY OF A FRUSTRATED UNPUBLISHED AUTHOR!
APRIL 16th 2010- Part eight
Tip of the day- Don’t wear g-strings if you have piles!
Have you seen the new mood changing lipstick? It is supposed to change colour based on your level of hormones. Sheer gloss would mean ‘Men, nothing’s happening you may as well go and paint a wall’. Whereas deep crimson would mean ‘Colin Firth come and get me!!’ Although it would be a good ice-breaker, I think it could be slightly dangerous. What would happen to poor old Doris from the post office? She may have raided her well worn make-up bag and got out her trusty old lipstick from the sixties (crimson). Could she cope with the unwanted attention from young male studs looking for a ‘good time’? Knowing Doris I suppose she could give them a run for their money!
No update to report from the B.B.C. about my thrilling script, still early days I guess. They’ve warned me it could take months! My third novel is going well I’m on page 109, and the ideas are flooding in faster than I can put them down on paper. You wouldn’t so much call it a page-turner ......it’s more of a pulse-throbber!!
Colin Firth this is your final chance to have that life changing experience. The spare room is ready for you! The wardrobe is waiting to be filled with spandex jumpsuits, white breeches and suits by Tom Ford. The shelves are empty...... plenty of room for your Baftas and Oscars (next year’s of course). I have no objections to you walking round the house in a dripping wet shirt (in fact I’d insist on it!) If you don’t pop round I will be tempted to let the room to Prince William, I’m sure he could do with a bolt hole away from the palaces. I realise my lawn isn’t big enough to land a helicopter and my drive isn’t large enough for a fancy limo but there is plenty of room in the garage for a push-bike or two and the house is only 10 minutes away from R.A.F Northolt. You never know ‘Wills’ may get to love shopping T.V. too! As you can see there’s a fine line between reality and fantasy. It doesn’t take much to slip from one into another, especially in my world of creative writing. Reality is sooooo depressing!
My crazy, deranged friends Chris and Zoe have got their audition date for the X-Factor. They have got to be in London on May 1st to sing for the producers. Unfortunately they don’t get to meet the judges at this stage but at least they’re on their way! In the meantime they have to practice their songs.......heaven help the neighbours. Once the howling starts there will probably be a mass exodus from Ruislip Manor!! I’m unsure of the songs they’ve chosen but I feel I must say, guys keep your clothes on and Zoe don’t flaunt your fairy cakes at the producers!
Last Friday I went on a day trip to Hampshire (Jane Austen’s county) with Captain Haddock. On our way down to Hayling Island we made a detour to Grayshott where a certain Mr Colin Firth was born, swoon.... swoon!! It is a typical, quaint, English village just as you’d imagine with a village square and two village greens. I had ‘Fish ‘n’ Chips’ on the sea front because the weather was unexpectedly warm, I burnt the back of my neck........summer is here at last! Just in case you’re wondering about Captain Haddock, he isn’t an old sea-dog friend of the pirate-loving Michelle, who has swept me off my feet. No Captain Haddock is the name of the car. Doesn’t everyone name their car? No? Just me then!!
O.K. I suppose I should get back to writing my novel because you never know when a plague of frogs will come to render me incapable! Anyway after I’ve done a few more pages I want a couple of hours of shopping T.V. (the Sit-up channels) before I turn in tonight!
P.D. Scott. xx
APRIL 16th 2010- Part eight
Tip of the day- Don’t wear g-strings if you have piles!
Have you seen the new mood changing lipstick? It is supposed to change colour based on your level of hormones. Sheer gloss would mean ‘Men, nothing’s happening you may as well go and paint a wall’. Whereas deep crimson would mean ‘Colin Firth come and get me!!’ Although it would be a good ice-breaker, I think it could be slightly dangerous. What would happen to poor old Doris from the post office? She may have raided her well worn make-up bag and got out her trusty old lipstick from the sixties (crimson). Could she cope with the unwanted attention from young male studs looking for a ‘good time’? Knowing Doris I suppose she could give them a run for their money!
No update to report from the B.B.C. about my thrilling script, still early days I guess. They’ve warned me it could take months! My third novel is going well I’m on page 109, and the ideas are flooding in faster than I can put them down on paper. You wouldn’t so much call it a page-turner ......it’s more of a pulse-throbber!!
Colin Firth this is your final chance to have that life changing experience. The spare room is ready for you! The wardrobe is waiting to be filled with spandex jumpsuits, white breeches and suits by Tom Ford. The shelves are empty...... plenty of room for your Baftas and Oscars (next year’s of course). I have no objections to you walking round the house in a dripping wet shirt (in fact I’d insist on it!) If you don’t pop round I will be tempted to let the room to Prince William, I’m sure he could do with a bolt hole away from the palaces. I realise my lawn isn’t big enough to land a helicopter and my drive isn’t large enough for a fancy limo but there is plenty of room in the garage for a push-bike or two and the house is only 10 minutes away from R.A.F Northolt. You never know ‘Wills’ may get to love shopping T.V. too! As you can see there’s a fine line between reality and fantasy. It doesn’t take much to slip from one into another, especially in my world of creative writing. Reality is sooooo depressing!
My crazy, deranged friends Chris and Zoe have got their audition date for the X-Factor. They have got to be in London on May 1st to sing for the producers. Unfortunately they don’t get to meet the judges at this stage but at least they’re on their way! In the meantime they have to practice their songs.......heaven help the neighbours. Once the howling starts there will probably be a mass exodus from Ruislip Manor!! I’m unsure of the songs they’ve chosen but I feel I must say, guys keep your clothes on and Zoe don’t flaunt your fairy cakes at the producers!
Last Friday I went on a day trip to Hampshire (Jane Austen’s county) with Captain Haddock. On our way down to Hayling Island we made a detour to Grayshott where a certain Mr Colin Firth was born, swoon.... swoon!! It is a typical, quaint, English village just as you’d imagine with a village square and two village greens. I had ‘Fish ‘n’ Chips’ on the sea front because the weather was unexpectedly warm, I burnt the back of my neck........summer is here at last! Just in case you’re wondering about Captain Haddock, he isn’t an old sea-dog friend of the pirate-loving Michelle, who has swept me off my feet. No Captain Haddock is the name of the car. Doesn’t everyone name their car? No? Just me then!!
O.K. I suppose I should get back to writing my novel because you never know when a plague of frogs will come to render me incapable! Anyway after I’ve done a few more pages I want a couple of hours of shopping T.V. (the Sit-up channels) before I turn in tonight!
P.D. Scott. xx
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