(picture to be added)
Apologies to anyone who has been waiting with bated breath for a new posting over the last day and a half, but alas, I have been a little ill since yesterday lunchtime.
I went with a friend of mine to an Italian restaurant and believe that I might have eaten something that disagreed with me. I was going to start the meal with a tricolour salad, as I've heard there's a lot of fibre in a flag, but instead I went for some sort of 'farmhouse pate' that looked fit for a bucket. Judging by the state of the mess on my plate, the 'farm' in question must have been some corrugate iron-roofed hut in cental Lithuania. When I received the pate, It dawned on me that the waiter may have just as easily emerged from the toilets as from the kitchen.
Well actually my hypothesis was wrong, since this morning Dr Brassey said that my dizzyness and general malaise was due not to food poisoning but to an infection of the inner ear.
Anyway I'm digressing wildly here, let me tell you about my meeting with David Gower.
Yesterday morning saw me drive to the Bond Street area of London. On my way, the thought did actually cross my mind that the email sent to me and purporting to be from the former England cricket captain, may have been a hoax, as my email address is now posted on here.
I'm not sure what the collective noun for a group of traffic wardens is, perhaps a squadron, but as I waited outside the offices of Hugo Boss, and they started circling my car as time ticked on, I felt my eyelid start to flutter with an Inspector Dreyfuss sort of anxiety.
Fortunately, inside the building, I caught up with a lady called Jude who told me that David was running a little late but was indeed on his way. I waited in the foyer and within a few minutes, the dapper David did turn up with his elegant wife in tow, and approached me with an outstretched arm, apologising for the time.
We had a brief chat and the lovely Mrs G. took a couple of snapshots of us. I was encouraged to 'smile' in the second photo but I mumbled something about my un-photogenic face and how when I smile, it resembles a raisin, and then that was it, I was on my way.
A massive thanks to David then, who was tops, and to Mrs G for the photos.
So why aren't the pictures on here you might ask. Well the camera is Michael's and so the snaps have to be downloaded onto his computer and then emailed to me each time.
Unfortunately Michael's laptop is presently unwell and so no photos yet. This actually led to a blazing row last night between my rotund friend and myself, where yet again he threatened to punch me.
Thinking about it, I've only been the victim of a physical assault once in my life, which is amazing in itself, as I've been told that I can try the patience of the entire Vatican at times.
It was in some squalid little bar in Las Vegas, where I was having a quiet drink with a friend. I was sure that the barman had short changed us. "Hit the road, Jack" he said to me when I questioned him. "What's a roadjack?" I replied, and he hit me.