Several new phrases have entered the media language this week-end spawned by the actions of two of our enduring entertainers, who are occasionally celebrated in this blog (and if you can’t guess their identities the image above is a clue to both of them!).
Well it’s been a while since my last posting here because I’ve had a few medical issues of late though all’s good now thankfully. Regular readers may know that due to my surgery and ongoing treatment I’ve had to cease my consultancy stuff and have set up a writing service, called It’s Write for You, aimed at local businesses and individuals who require some help with things like website content, CVs, speeches etc. After several months getting it established I’m at last starting to pick up clients nicely. One of the things that people say they like is my website at http://www.itswriteforyou.co.uk and a key feature on there is a blog section, which tends to get more regularly updated than Pasta Paulie. So there’s always a chance of picking up new postings on there, if you were interested, though to be honest the postings are more locally focused and less irreverent as it’s a business site after all. So maybe not the place for biting rants and criticsm.
Well I’ve done a number of postings about Sir Cliff. I have to say that I find him to be a self-absorbed little man with a fascination about his own looks. A modern-day Narcissus if ever there was one. He’s also incredibly successful at what he does and I acknowledge he has a huge of base of adoring fans – most of whom are middle-aged women. But I can’t help but comment on his preening and his self-obsessionism. And here’s a staggering conclusion; if he’s not gay I’ll drink my swimming pool dry. Don’t misunderstand me, he’s perfectly entitled to a private life and I don’t care what he does with consenting adults in his own home. Being gay is absolutely something to be proud of. But I’m always enraged by his obfuscation over the subject and by the many women who rush to his defence whenever I say something like this and by their denial over his probable sexuality. I suspect I know why Cliff doesn’t come out – he’s afraid that army of women fans will disown him and his earning capacity will decrease massively. Down to the last £100m are we Cliff and what, too graspingly money-grubbing to be honest for once?
We’re having a friendly and frenzied final week here in the UK before heading back out to Italy. On Friday night we went to see M and G for dinner and had a fine old time. We went down the local pub which does some super food and G and M were generous as ever. Staying over is always an excuse for G and I to stay up very late but we were chatting mostly and G in particular was being quite careful with the wine. He wanted to be fresh for the prospective new gardeners turning up early the next morning for interviews etc. One cancelled and one was running late and G was not impressed despite M’s lovely breakfast. Then last night M and J invited us round for a meal. M called me in the week; his dad gene had kicked in in the last few months and he’s gotten the cooking bug too. He made us a belting italiano-anglo fusion of lasagna followed by traditional trifle. The kids (ha!) J and H joined us for dinner which was lovely – they are all grown up and doing grown up stuff which is surprising and delighting in equal measure. That little lad who came to play 5 a-side footie with us at 10 years of age now dwarfs me physically and socially. Both he and H told tales of their recent experiences which made ours seem positively trappist. Life eh… Continue reading
Well after having the grandsons for the weekend and seeing Man U cruise to a brilliant Cup win yesterday, it’s been a bit of a quiet Sunday night. I’ve done a bit of essential work for tomorrow’s meetings and have made serious in-roads into the new John Grisham book, the Appeal.
Well having the kids around has meant that my target of doing 50 postings this month is way behind schedule. After this I still need to do, I think, 16 further postings and time’s running out. But we’ll give it a go. Fortunately the visitor numbers are still pretty good and we may just make the 2,500 visits target for the month by hitting 11,200 total visits before end December.
Winning against les bloody French has always given the English a warm glow. We’ve always had issues with the neighbours but those buggers across the Channel have always been our national ‘derby’ team. The Germans have been particularly annoying in recent history but in reality they are a lot like us (apart from the arrogance, first on the sun-lounger mentality and sense of humour). But anyone’s who’s holidayed in the Dordogne and popped out in the morning to buy 3 baguettes, 5 croissants, some ham and cheese for breakfast and commented on the pleasant landscape and lovely weather without speaking in perfect French knows how sneering they are about we English and our slight mangling of their beautiful language. What’s so wrong with il ne pleut pas comme dans Angleterre? We love France and they hate us. Pourquoi mes amis? Continue reading
Pasta Paulie 