Let It Be

I think I may have made my peace with Jamie Oliver.
I called into the corner shop today to see if anyone had signed my petition, only to find the manager had refused to let them leave it on display. He said, apparently, that Jamie Oliver is immensely popular with middle-aged housewives, and he didn’t want to alienate ‘the Woman’s Own demographic’. I said he sounded like a fascist, but Mrs Willow (who works there three afternoons a week now) made some good points in his defence. She also gave me a lovely speech about learning to convert my anger into ‘positive personal action’, and reminded me that I can always turn off the telly if I don’t like someone that’s on it. Isn’t it hateful when people point out the obvious? She was right though – I have enough going on in my life without wasting my thoughts and energies on some tubby, gormless baker who can’t cope with being off-screen for five minutes.
If I ever decide I need a mother figure in my life again, Mrs Willow is going to be top of my list for adoption.

On a different topic, I have today taken delivery of “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” on CD, which I am about to enjoy in the bath with some Avon Mascarpone Bath Cubes and a large hot chocolate. I would like to thank Messrs Lennon, McCartney, Starr and Harrison, Tim the Postman who delivered it, and MesserschmittFan10 on eBay who sold it to me for a fiver, for what will almost certainly be the best night I’ve had in an aeon.

RC 27-10-08
2003 GMT