I'm not one to argue, particularly with songwriters of the ilk of Burt Bacharach, but I have to disagree with his findings when he asked the rhetorical question "what do you get when you fall in love?". Forget all of that nonsense about girls with pins bursting bubbles, the answer, at least to me, is a hefty overdraft.
I only mention it because that was one of the songs that I listened to as I drove up the A1 to Elstree to meet Chris Tarrant this evening and yes, my decrepit car did just about make it.
I'm not saying that I haven't been taking care of my 'motor' but put it this way, if I was to park it in a North Parisian suburb tonight, it would probably look better by tomorrow morning.
Actually, while I'm on the subject of song lyrics, I read the news today oh boy. About a fight somewhere near Leicester Square. And while the news was rather sad etc etc
To be honest I didn't laugh but I was shocked. A friend of mine (relatively loose sense), who was at University with me and who has somehow become something of a moie mogul in the meantime, was spotted trading blows in a gutter with George Clooney, allegedly. Say it aint so Simon...
Not for the first time, I'm soaring away at a tangent to the matter in hand.
Today I was expecting to greet 2 of the 500.
Time -8.45am Location - Nr. Parlaiment Square Weather - Glorious sunshine.
I turned up at Anne Widdecombe's office very early doors. After the rigmarol of going through security, where the receptionist worryingly told me that Anne wasn't expected for a while, I waited in the foyer for her delightful assistant Annalinda to appear. I could tell by the reaction of the receptionist whilst he was informing her over the phone of my arrial, that something was awry.
Annalinda arrived shortly afterwards, walking towards me in a Neville Chamberlaine style, ie with a piece of paper in hand. That paper turned out to be a print out of the email that I'd sent her several weeks ago, confirming that I would be arriving at 9.00am on Thursday 10th November. Not just egg on face but full English. My head has been so vacant recently that is someone offered me a penny for my thoughts I'd have to give them change.
This evenings 'meeting' or 'greeting' went much more to plan. I was welcomed at the reception of Elstree by an angel otherwise known as Shona. After a walk and a chat, she ushered me into the WWTBAMillionaire studio where I was taken under the wing of the Floor Manager and was allowed to watch the contestants being put through their paces by Chris.
They all looked rather nervous in their plain pastel coloured shirts, but I guess by the time I write this, one of them will be considerably better off. Meanwhile, I'm still involved in constant financial wrangles with the bank that doesn't listen.
Chris was extremely amiable, and suggested we have the photo taken by the Millionaire 'Hot Seat' which was actually quite thrilling for me. If only I could be in it for real one day.
My general knowledge is actually quite strong. For example I know that honey is the only food that never spoils, there are more psycho-therapists per capita in Buenos Aires than anywhere else in the world and a bluebottle's average speed is 4.5mph.
I came second last when I appeared on the Weakest Link.