...and so we enter December, the cruellest month. Or is that April? I have just under 2 months left of this little project, one that I have found really enjoyable, not to mention time-consuming and expensive.
As far as the bet goes, well I'm doing so-so really. I no longer have to undertake several naked swims off Brighton beach next February, for which I'm eternally grateful, I really am. Apparently the Gilthead Bream of the English Channel are very partial to maggotts so I've been spared a bit of pain if nothing else.
I no longer have to run next year's London Marathon which is fortunate since, as several people have pointed out to me, it's unlikely that Flora or whoever organises the whole shebang would have permitted a wheezing slouch such as myself to enter it. I'm a heart-attack waiting to happen.
I no longer have to conquer my fear of vertigo by riding the UK's biggest roller coaster. No, at the moment I am stuck on forfeit 4 and unless I receive a couple more agreements to meetings in the next two months, I will soon have to put my hand up a cow's rectum.
Please don't write to me if you happen to be an animal lover (I am too - You should see some of my ex'es) this is not an act of cruelty. It's just that forfeit 4 (see forfeits category) reads as follows: "Either Julian or Michael must help a rural vet in checking on a cow's pregnancy situation". Now I'm not too sure how we'd find a willing vet. Michael has suggested that I contacted the National Farmer's Union, but as far as I'm concerned, I'll cross that Rubicon when I come to it.
Bob Holness has become the latest from my list to agree to a meeting. His lovely PA Ros, who I accidently phoned whilst she was in the "bakery & bread product aisle" of her local supermarket, sent me an email the day before yesterday. It brought massive cheer to my heart after reading just the first sentence, as it started off as..
"Dear Julian,
Bob was intrigued by your letter and is happy to help you to try and achieve your goal..."
What a fantastic man. I will be meeting him outside a theatre in Drury Lane next week. I will then celebrate by ceremoniously burning a pair of rubber gloves, as it lookes like I won't be giving a nasty surprise to any bovine after all.
Oh yes, can I finally just mention, as I've had many, many emails about this, that your 'Comments' that you've tried to post on my website, are not appearing, because that facility is currently (bang) out of order. Blame Typepad...
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