Moonshine & Trumpery - a taster

This dame walks into my office without knocking on my door, sometimes I think why did I even bother getting a door if people aren’t even going to bother knocking on it, then I remember the door came with the office so I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Oh, well, such is life. Anyway, I happen to be in the middle of my lunch. It’s Tuesday so I’m having quiche and salad.

“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of my quiche and salad?”

I look up and notice the dame. She’s hot. My God, hotter than a page 3 girl in the middle of the desert in the middle of the day, wrapped up in a duffel coat. Boy I wish she’d do herself a favour take that coat off.
She pulls me out of my quiche and salad.
“How the hell did you get in there?”
“What do you think? I slipped on a banana skin. What’s with all the questions? I’m the private dick around here.”
“Not that private from what I’ve heard.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me.”
“No, you tell me.”
“No, you tell me.”
“All right forget it. I don’t have all day, can’t you see I’m closed for lunch?”
“I’ve already eaten.”
“Lucky you. What did you have?”
“Chicken.”
“What kind of chicken?”
“Actually I had an egg, I was in a hurry and couldn’t wait.”
“What can I do for you, Miss…?”
“Miss Nomer.”
“How appropriate.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not my real name.”
“Let me guess, you won’t tell me your real name because you distrust me.”
“It’s mistrust.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“How’s the quiche?”
“I’ll live. Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what the problem is.”
“I can’t sit down. I’ve got piles.”
“I got piles too, lady. Piles of paperwork, I’ve got a tax return to do before the end of the month or I get hit with a fine. Quit wasting my time and tell me what you want.”
“I think I’m having an affair.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I’ve been acting very strange lately.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know but I’m going to find out. I’ll tell you what I can do. I’ll follow you around for $50 a day, see what I can dig up.”
“Why dollars?”
“Because the pound sign on my laptop doesn’t work.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I’ll give you 50Euros.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Actually I drive a Nissan Micra, sometimes I ride a bike, what with the congestion charge and everything.”
“All right, 50 quid, and you got yourself a deal.”
“50 quid, that’s more than 50Euros.”
“Yeah, well, VAT increase, if you don’t like it, lump it.”
“What does expression even mean?”
“I have no idea.”
“Please, if my husband finds out I’m having an affair, he’ll kill me.”
“I won’t let that happen to you.”

The dame gives me 50 quid and I kick her out of my office, I hurt my foot I forgot I’m not wearing any shoes, I never wear shoes when I’m eating quiche, don’t ask, that’s just the way I roll. Actually I roll like this. I give the dame a head start; tell her to go about her day as if everything is normal. With the 50 quid she gave me I go to Star Bucks I can just about afford a coffee, I order a skinny latte, Grande size, which is the smallest size you can get even though everyone knows Grande means big. Where the hell did these bozos go to school? Don’t they know anything? Rio Grande? It’s a pretty big river. La Grande Illusion? It’s a pretty big illusion. Grande Fratello? The Italian version of Big Brother, same crap different language. Anyway, you get the picture.

I take my coffee, and walk on trying to catch up with the dame I don’t want to walk too fast as I’m afraid I’ll spill my coffee, I’m behind her about 50 yards, a yard for every pound she gave me to follow her but she must she sense that she’s being followed because she picks up the pace. I take a sip of my coffee, it’s real nice, I got an extra sprinkle of cinnamon on top, but I think I’m going to lose the dame, it reminds me of the time I had to follow Kris Acabusi, man that guy is fast, especially when there aren’t any hurdles in his way.

Suddenly, the lady turns around, I react in the only way I know, I dive into the nearest bush, not that kind of bush what do you take me for? I mean a shrub. Phew that was close. I pick myself up, run down the nearest alley, not that kind of alley, I climb over a fence, into a garden, through a cat flap; it’s a small cat flap, when I say small I mean Grande size, big enough for a tiger. Crikey, who would live in a house like this? There’s only one way to find out. I go upstairs and get changed. The lady arrives at the front door and rings the doorbell. I open the door; I’m standing there in a fancy pink dressing gown, with fluffy slippers and big fat cigar hanging out my mouth.

“Good to see you again,” I say.
“You too,” says the dame.

The lady plants a big fat kiss on my lips before I’ve had a chance to take cigar out of my mouth.

“Ouch y,” she says, “that really hurt. When are you going to stop smoking?”
“I’ll stop smoking when you leave your husband,” I reply.
“That’s real funny, darling” she says. “How was your day?”
“Great,” I say. “Now come inside and take off your duffel coat.”

A poem from Napoleon Bonaparte to his lover Mademoiselle Georges the beautiful French actress

In all of Europe
From Iceland to the Caspian Sea
Which some people actually consider to be
not a sea but a really big lake
Being as it is an enclosed body of water
You are the most beautiful young woman
For obvious reasons I’m so glad you’re not my daughter

Tennis Elbow

Jill: How’s Phil?
Jackie: Oh, he’s all right. You know Phil
Jill: Yeah, I know Phil.
Jackie: He says he’s got tennis elbow.
Jill: Tennis elbow, what’s that then?
Jackie: It’s what you get when you play tennis.
Jill: I didn’t know Phil played tennis.
Jackie: He doesn’t. He’s never played tennis in his life.
Jill: Oh, so how’d he get tennis elbow then?
Jackie: I don’t know, he says he went to the doctor’s and the doctor said he’s got tennis elbow.
Jill: Is there a cure for it?
Jackie: He’s not allowed to play tennis six weeks.
Jill: That shouldn’t be too hard.
Jackie: Not for Phil, no.
Jill: It’s funny isn’t it?
Jackie: Do you want to know what I think?
Jill: What?
Jackie: I reckon he might be having an affair.
Jill: What, Phil?
Jackie: Yeah, Phil.
Jill: With a tennis player?
Jackie: Yeah, a tennis player. You know Phil.
Jill: Yeah, I know Phil.
Jackie: How’s Brian?
Jill: Oh, Brian’s all right. You know Brian.
Jackie: Yeah, I know Brian.
Jill: He says he’s got Athlete’s foot but apart from that he’s fine.

Ego Death and Sensible Shoes

Today I experienced what I can only describe as an out of body mystical transcendental ego-killing experience. I thought to myself: what is this self I am thinking to? If I am not myself then who or what is I? I was suddenly detached from my own self in the most exhilarating, liberating way and all my anxieties and insecurities vanished. Then I went to Clark's and bought some sensible shoes - not for myself but for my feet.

Hounslow Gray saves the day

Hounslow Gray, semi-famous explorer and environmentalist extraordinaire
Convinces the balding polar bear
Who's down in the mouth
About extinction
To move down south
To avoid extinction

The ice caps melt, the sea level rises
As Hounslow Gray surmises
It's a bloody disaster
There's no happily ever after

But the polar bear doesn't care
Or even give a toss
He's now living in Brent Cross
Having an affair with his boss
And lamenting the loss
Of his hair

a list of people from the borough of Hounslow (alphabetical order)

Cecil Aldin - artist and illustrator. Best known for his paintings of animals and rural life, for example "Debbie does Calculus" and "Socially awkward sheep wanders off on his own".

Jack Beresford - British rower who won medals at five Olympic Games in succession, was so devoted to rowing that he slept in a boat. When he got married, he compromised and got a water bed.

Alec Dickson - founder of Voluntary Service Overseas. Conceived the idea of sending volunteers to developing countries. Legend has it that no-one asked him to come up with the idea, he just proffered it. Just like that. On a plate, made out of recycled elephant dung.

Michael Flanders - entertainer, lived in Chiswick from 1971 to 1975.
One half of Flanders and Swann. First half. Hobbies included ducking and breathing.

Sir Stephen Fox - politician, had a country retreat in Chiswick from 1663. And with a name like Fox, boy did he need it.

E. M. Forster – famous author, a blue plaque in Arlington Park Mansions commemorates the flat where he lived until his death in 1970. Very nice flat, but no windows.

Elias Henry "Patsy" Hendren – cricketer. Was a first-class batsman despite having no knees.

William Hogarth - country home at Chiswick from 1749 until his death. His next door neighbour had a highly contagious rash. Died by chicken poxy proxy.


Joe Miller - actor, lived at Strand-on-the-Green from 1686 to 1738. Some historians claim he didn't actually live there but was merely playing the part of a local resident.


Alistair Overeem - mixed martial arts fighter, born in Hounslow. Specialised in combining jujitsu moves with recitals of Italian Renaissance Feminist poetry. Once paralysed a man with a sonnet.


Lucien Pissarro - artist, coined the term piss-artist. Key influence on Tracy Emin.

Redgrave family - actors, lived at Bedford House from 1945 to 1954. Divided their time between the following four rooms:
1945-47 Kitchen. 1947-50 Dining room. 1950-53 Living room. 1953-54 Bedroom.
1954 Moved into a new house with a toilet.

Sergey Stepnyak-Kravchinsky - Russian revolutionary. Famously started his day with supper and had breakfast before going to bed as a political protest against the Csar.

Tuke family - mental healthcare reformers. Campaigned tirelessly for the humane treatment of the insane. Quaker family who believed fervently that Jeremy Kyle was the devil incarnate.


Vincent van Gogh - lived briefly in Isleworth, before moving to France where he cut off a bit of his ear, shot himself in the chest. In a letter to his brother he reveals that things would have been a lot worse for him had he stayed in Hounslow.

i didn't vote in the last election

i didn't vote
in the last election
i couldn't vote
in the last election
i was in a boat
in the last election
nowhere near a polling booth

cherie booth
was sailing by in a brand new fishing smack
i waved at her and she waved back,
with a brand new yellow jack
"are you not voting today, cherie?" i asked
"no way, you have got to be joking" said cherie, "for years my husband was a political hack -
i'm through with all that crap"