Wednesday, 3 June 2009


Mes chers amis, more glorious weather in the Thames Valley!  How I revel in the God-given microclimate that is our lot in the Royal County!  You will be excited to hear that I am still in bed, trying to shake off a heavy one with the assistance of Anadin Extra and a tiny bottle of Angel Springs.  Also, I have a hangover to tackle.  My bedside table, I don't mind admitting, is a veritable mare's nest, and my task today is to fine down the detritus.  I know you will cheer me to the echo when you hear that Numb's nixed, and I am now on the arm of the well-known Scandinavian restaurateur, Lars Torrders.  I imagine he will be banging on the door of my boudoir before he's much older,  and it is essential that my bedside assemblage gives the right impression.  Here is what I have collected:

Bedside table, tulipwood, slightly bloodstained, no key to secret drawer:

2 books (The Eunuch of Stamboul and A Sock on the Jaw by Brass Williams)
Small brandy glass (empty)
Unopened letter (Inland Revenue)
Burt's Bees Hand Salve
A porcelain piglet
Perpetual calendar (stuck on 6 March 2007)
An emerald bracelet, a tiger's eye ring, a black diamond cuff
Minor pharmacopeia: Codeine, Luminol, Xanax, Klonopin
Photo of Guy Lux in silver frame

A hideous and frightening confection indeed.  The drawer, however, hides grimmer secrets and speaks of postcards from Climping,  perished rubber and the state of my sinuses.  

God bless you all.


I have decided to start writing poetry in a singular style.  Rush over to Dr Maroon to see my first attempt which appears in the comment box of his most recent post.  This is to be my new hobby.


  1. I have dirty knickers.
    WV: suckwa

  2. GUY LUX???? Good grief, it's worse than I thought.

  3. Thank you for sharing Miss Scarlet !
    I wish you a speedy recovery Mrs P .
    Being a bit of a minialist myself Mrs P my bedside table(Steel and glass) is uncluttered

  4. I am delighted to hear of the emerald bracelet, delighted and relieved.

    But what about the emerald earrings, hmm? Can you reassure us about them, please?

  5. Postcards of Climping? Is that the sort of thing they used - in legend - to sell in certain backstreets in Paris?

  6. 'trying to shake off a heavy one' - that'll be Numb then? Good riddance.
    I assume you are gong to tidy up a little before the advent of Lars?

  7. Guy Lux? Michael Miles on the outs then?

  8. Your bedside sounds marvellously exciting by comparison to mine. I feel it suggests hidden excitements and loucheness. Mine suggests someone who needs a life.

  9. I do hope Lars can help you shake it off, Mrs Pouncer. If I were there, I would try lifting you upside down by your ankles.

  10. I also have those unopened brown envelopes from The Collector General!

    Get well soon

  11. Guy Lux? Wasn't he that French game show host that invented some sort of soap?

    Right Mrs P, hangover cure, never fails for me. Crack an egg in a glass, mix in orange juice and worcester sauce, stir, look at it. Decide hangover can't be that bad and have a glass of chilled fino instead

  12. Scarlet, thank you. As usual, you drag the discourse to a laundress's level. I see you, almost completely obscured by great clouds of ill-smelling steam, plunging shattered underpants into a great boiling vat of Omo.

    Daphne, Kevin and Mr Jekand (and welcome btw). It is easy to denigrate Guy Lux; some would say too easy. However, I adored him and longed to be Betty Mars - who wouldn't? Many comment on my extraordinary resemblance to her, before the bankruptcy, soft porn appearances, and dismal death. Before her bankruptcy, soft porn and dismal death, of course.

    Beast, yes, but I am sure it is covered in a thick layer of dust, and ochre rings left by mugs of Mellow Birds. (Scarlet, you may make a quip about mellow birds in beast's boudoir, if you wish. It is my gift to you).

    Inky, I do find you worrisome, truly I do. Do you know me in real life? Or have I mentioned the emerald earring folderol in a previous post? It is all most disconcerting.

  13. Auty, Climping, as you know, is a niche interest, and not as popular as it should be. Some people worry about looking foolish; others that the equipment is out of their price-range. Spineless. There is no fool like an old fool, and what is eBay for?

    Pat, I do no tidying. I employ a sumptuous old drudge (Mrs Rumteigh) for that sort of caper. However, she is forbidden to hoover under the bed, for personal reasons.

    Madame D, you are sadly mistaken. I have no life left in me. It is to cry. My bedside table is no more than a repository for drugs and defences. You, on the other hand, lead a vibrant and rewarding existence. You are an example to us all, but one that I feel unable to follow.

    Oh, dear Gorilla! I pine for the day, for the very hour, the moment, when you will grasp me firmly by my slender ankles and shake me upside down until the little vials of sal volatile fall from my pocketsies. I really do.

    But Mapstew, we must be brave! See how we hide, in a cowardly, cringing fashion, hardly able to slit open the manilla and read the truth? And, for why? Simply because we fear ending up in the Marshalsea with the other debtors. But I'm sure we could make it fun, if we really tried.

  14. Oh, and Mr Jekand. Tio Pepe Palomino Fino is kosher, so maybe your cure is a good idea after all.

  15. It's the jugs on the mellow birds that Mr Beastie is interested in. *runs off sniggering*

  16. Burt's Bees is the bee's knees

  17. Ooh, those italics Mrs P, you certainly can press a chap's buttons. As for the emeralds, you are just so obviously an emeraldy woman.

  18. 'The Eunuch of Stamboul' I get (Dennis Wheatley), but 'A Sock on the jaw' by Brass Williams?

    Please explain, Mrs P...

  19. Scarlet, your humour reaches new heights. Surely you are the Stan Boardman of the ethersphere.

    Oh, I agree, Nursie. I always have a coffret of Burt's somewhere about my boudoir. I particularly love the almond milk range: you can smear it on anything.

    Inky, ever since I learned italicising and emboldening and (lately) linking, I have been as a new woman. Yes, I am emeraldy, it's true, but I can be bought off with other gems hemhem.

    DT, you dismay me. Never heard of Brass Williams? Not only one of the greatest writers in that genre (A Sock on the Jaw, Sewage Sue, The Mysterious Plumber, etc) but also a film director of enormous virtue. Plucky Pam was one of his, for example. You'll be telling me next you're unfamiliar with Seymour Shubin (The Floating Bedroom), Paul Dodge (Sudden Hunger) and March Hastings (Strange Embrace)! My particular fave, however, is William Ard (The Third Sex, I Like It Tough, etc etc). Very often I fall asleep with a William Ard pressed against me.

  20. Thanks to your last comment my holiday reading list is now complete, Mrs P. I normally take Firbank & Bonfiglioli, who amuse and instruct while sounding like St Albans solicitors.

    May I leave the phrase sounding like St Albans solicitors for Scarlet to play with? Thanks.

  21. Boyo, you must pack your chest with Shopping Centre Sex (Oren A. Lang), Come and Get Me (Johnny Laredo), Woman Doctor (Sloane Britain) and Reform School Girl (Felice Swados). Page-turners, cliff-hangers, crowd-pleasers, room-emptiers all.