My Uterine Contractions Have Been Bogus For Some Time

 Hello Sailor,
I thought you might be interested in this picture of Jeremy Thorpe with popular skiffle artiste Jimi Hendrix.

Did you manage to see the 60s film programme last night.

Cheeky buggers, its actually an old BBC2 series from over ten years ago. Still it was very good and I imagine better than a brand new programme would be, especially considering some of the interviewees are now in heaven. 

The films don’t look very inspired though, Whistle Up My Arse this week and Alfie next week, both a bit blah.

Have you heard of this new film called In the Realms of the Unreal, its a documentary about a gifted nobody called Henry Darger. 

By day he was a janitor, at night he devoted himself to a 15,000 page illustrated novel. 

He was a recluse, loner and religious crank, who had no interest in being published or achieving fame. 

Its just like my life... apart from the fact he was able to get a job, was gifted and actually created something.

Suicidal,
Gentle Jesus.

Sharking

Dear Murderer,

As promised I am sending you the pictures of Doctor Who to stick on your top hat, today its the Bakers.

Fatherbride.

Oi! Shadders!

Young Master Christopher Lee in this month's Empire magazine:

E: Did George [Lucas] really play a practical joke on you?

C.L: Yes, he did. They put a puppet of Yoda on the set with a pair of fangs. People thought it was funny. Didn't bother me - I haven't played that the part for 33 years.

Yours thoughts criminal?

Vanity Fair.

Hooray For Harold Lloyd!

 Dear Egg,

Quick question - do you remember a tv series from the early eighties featuring John Mills, and, possibly, his wife?

 It was a gentle sitcom/ drama type, and I think it was quite successful.

Do you remember, Linda? Do you?

Hooray For Harold Lang!

 I have researched on the Internet and the World Wide Web, and found thus:

Name: Albert Collyer

Occupation: Retired

Marital Status: Megs Jenkins

Hobbies: None

Vehicle: Love Is; Young At Heart

At the end of every episode, Sir John was covered in vine leaves and sucked off.

Linda.

Oh! What A Lovely War!

There is wine in the cellar and candlesticks on the table, and father has shaved and changed but who is coming for dinner?

Guten morgen mein freund, I write this while watching wee Georgie Fame (why does he talk like an American preacher mater?) on a Friday night, while you will be reading this on Monday morn. It is like the works of young Wells and his time contraption is it not sir?

Hopefully by this time your landlady will have allowed you to watch the box of delights and you will have an opinion on such things. What did you think young egg? I must say I was disappointed by my lady’s undressing and showing of her bits and bobs (how could she, SOB!). I hope you looked away sir. (Anyway does not your Mrs. Landlady partake of horseplay with a gentleman friend on a Saturday and leave you alone to view the colours and the shapes.)

Julian Lennon! Pshaw!

Silly pooh, I do not mean to copy said Donwood, I mean seeing such interesting work opens my eyes to possibilities of creativity and makes me want to get mein arse into gear. Silly pooh...silly pooh.

I have just discovered a new artiste called Sam Hiti , I bought a strip/book of his called Tiempos Finales (the edges were not of goodley quality but I can not find it anywhere else, SOB!). While I remember there is a book on Master Christopher Ware in the Waterstones (By the by did you notice I sent some of my own doodles for your perusal the other day? I realise I need to funnel my pen shapes into one distinctive style like those mentioned above, instead of buzzing about like a tartish bumblebee).

Finking about it talk of tales in tales, etc, is perhaps putting the omelette before the hen, altough I like the idea of a little edition rather like the beautiful little things you see in the Travelling Man, to mein eyes small is less pretencious (but again we’ll see what happens). You read my mind with your ideas of consciousness and jugglement into a narrative, you are wise in your generation. Perhaps start with an idea and go from there and see where we take it, I like the idea of creating our own logic in our own distinctive world.

Shall we regroup next weekend for meetings of minds?

Pity Master Dinsdale he now has no chance of a new series (unless he teams up with Mr. Sheila Handcock for a series calld Henpecked perhaps). Will the murder of the Bolam stem Bewes’ lascivious urgings.

I must go now for Freddy Forsyth is awaiting me to stuff his gigantic lugubrious face into a green velvet jacket so he can go and shoot some illegal elephants, mine is a hard life.

Your own

Victor Spinetti (knitted)

P.S. Did you hear Jim Broadbent is appearing in the Theatre of Blood?

One Egg or Two?

Good evening Rum Ba Ba, my penis is finally emptied of its precious fluids. I see that young ass Churchill has gone over to the Liberals. Faugh! A plague on him!

I much enjoyed 20,000 Leagues Under the Sky, I am currently in love with Miss Jenny Maple and must gain her allegiance in the world of sex and love (although I must not be disloyal to my dearest Miss Watts). Fear not it is repeated on the Saturday.

Master Reece Dinsdale was in an American film last night. Whatever next pater?

Your loyal wife,

The Baby Jesus. (A Christ Child, meek and mild)