Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Friday, 26 October 2012
Ducking Russell Crowe
Here's another image from that book of 17th century weird symbols. Maybe you could use it for your hastily improvised Halloween party invitations? 'Don't go near the hot punch' has been my maxim since one party way back in the 1970s.
Well we never made it to Seville and Cordoba this October. Next week would have been the time, but circumstances have prevented us from booking a flight, and now we are both suffering from cabin-fever and it's not even winter yet. Because of H.I.'s teaching commitments, we can only go away during holiday peak-times, so those flights for £1 (+ £200 hidden expenses) always seem to elude us.
A few years ago, I was eating a rather expensive sandwich one lunchtime, and the person sitting next to me asked how much I had paid for it. When I told her, she said that - only that morning - she had booked a return flight to Venice for less. At least half the world comes to Bath for their holidays, so all I have to do is put myself in the right state of mind when I walk around town and I won't feel so claustrophobic. The headline of our local newspaper yesterday read 'Hollywood comes to Bath'.
I read about that filming they were doing outside our windows all night the other night (Les Miserables) and it turns out that they spent the entire evening throwing a stunt-man into the river, fishing him out, then throwing him back in again.
The stunt-man was doubling up for Russell Crowe. If they had actually been throwing Crowe into the freezing river over and over again, I would have stayed up all night with a flask of hot coffee to watch. I wouldn't have given him any of it between takes, either.
I would love to have stood around shouting, "Oi! Russell! Has your willy shrivelled completely away yet?!" to see if he would lose his temper as he is renowned to do, and if - after the tenth time - he ran up to hit me, I would have said "My! So it's true. You have got a short fuse, haven't you?!".