Julian Sands – ‘lady doctor’ (Belle)

Posted on August 22, 2011 by Dreamaticus

I visited, my gynaecologist, Julian Sands.

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Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre to solve all our problems (Rousse)

Posted on August 21, 2011 by Dreamaticus

Kev F Sutherland was living the Edinburgh Fringe dream. He hadn’t been to bed following his Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre show performance the previous night, yet he was still wide awake, chatting amiably to his fans from a spot on the floor to the left of Granny H’s Hexham sitting room fireplace. I listened from the knobbly green sofa, squashed against the right hand arm-rest, dressed only in a thin white towel. Kev enthused about his latest Socks sketch. His wee pals would work as agony aunts to Fringe audience members. Given my painful teenage experience of listening to Radio Tees’ Time to talk series in the 1970s, I urged Kev to think again. Wouldn’t it be funnier for the Socks to offer a holiday advice line instead?

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A new job in football, the Tardis and a night with Harrison Ford (Belle)

Posted on August 21, 2011 by Dreamaticus

I was working for, and living in the same house as, the owner of Huddersfield Football Club. She asked me to help her work on her latest idea – the creation of an ‘eco-cartoon’ for the younger fan-base. Despite having absolutely no experience in this field, I was the ideal candidate.

Later, at a weekend party in which one of our friends lived in a blow up Tardis, I found myself spending the night with Harrison Ford. Although it was a rather disappointing experience (I caught him watching TV half way through) I wasted no time at all in telling everyone about my conquest the next morning. A former colleague flew in from New Zealand and was astonished to see I was expecting a baby. Shamefaced, I had to admit that I was simply fat but I HAD slept with Harrison Ford.

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Miss Haversham awaits her husband while Rousse loses hers

Posted on August 20, 2011 by Dreamaticus

We’d never seen snow on Uig sands before. It really was a beautiful sight, and you would have thought it would be an absolute pleasure to be snowed in here. However, after only one night at our favourite guest house TPR, BM, JM and I were to be accommodated in a dilapidated hovel up the road, and almost as soon as we arrived TPR vanished. I was distraught; BM was unmoved. We shared our accommodation with an overweight modern Miss Haversham, all decked-out in her wedding dress and convinced that a husband would present himself just as soon as the snow melted. Upstairs the F family locked themselves in their room with a boxed set of The thin blue line. I was disappointed that they didn’t invite me along too, but they did at least offer to lend me the series once they were finished with it.

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George Orwell festival on the South Bank (Belle)

Posted on August 19, 2011 by Dreamaticus

There were endless courses to this George Orwell celebratory feast, each one more repulsive than the one it followed. Roast bullfrog, and a crown of sparrows roasted with herbs. How ludicrous that we were celebrating a great socialist with this repellant bacchanalian spectacle, I thought.

Later, as the festival-goers became more drunk, a group of my ex-boyfriends began to do the oke-cokey underneath the Millennium Wheel.

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An afternoon with David Mitchell (Rousse)

Posted on August 19, 2011 by Dreamaticus

The black banana that promised to contain a map inside was a grave disappointment. Now my sister J and I were lost with two Canadian cousins somewhere in the south of England with no idea of how to reach the A2.

We cheered up somewhat when we came across David Mitchell, and he actually seemed to welcome our over-awed attention. Our cousins had no idea of David’s celebrity status in the UK, although strangely he recognised Cousin T from his modelling days when T sported a mop of peroxide blond hair.

We all invited ourselves into David’s house and I made a batch of carrot soup using the chicken stock that I had stolen from the Uig Community shop. By the time that David’s wife and children returned home, however, we could tell that David had tired of us. Careful to spare his feelings, we didn’t admit publicly that we felt the same way about him.

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Belle’s neighbour is ‘top of the sex pops’

Posted on August 18, 2011 by Dreamaticus

The cafe was set up in a timber Amazonian forest tree house and was staffed by handsome young men. I was astonished to learn that if you flipped the ‘Brazilian blackboards’ over you could read the scores allocated by the staff to customers for their performance in bed. I was less astonished to learn that S, my neighbour, was at the top of the scoreboard, averaging a score of more than 9 out of 10 for every encounter.

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New Diana revelations, courtesy of Ian Hislop (Rousse)

Posted on August 18, 2011 by Dreamaticus

Ian Hislop revealed that Princess Diana’s body secretly laid in state at the Claremont Hotel, Edinburgh, for two weeks before her funeral in September 1997.

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Judy Garland learner driver (Rousse)

Posted on August 18, 2011 by Dreamaticus

Judy Garland failed her driving test and thus freed a slot for me to pass mine. This system operates to limit the number of new drivers on the road. Ordinary people earn their licence only on occasions when celebrities don’t make the grade.

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Stephen Fry scoffs (Rousse)

Posted on August 17, 2011 by Dreamaticus

Stephen Fry raised a haughty eyebrow and sneered “They gave you a PhD for that?!” Despite his reputation for erudition, he was clearly unfamiliar with the notion of technology implementations as inanimate actors as conceived in sociotechnical studies.

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