itsmeagain

Lovers and Strangers by Clair Wills. An immigrant history of post war Britain.

to meditate on the wondrous stamp books I had read over the years. Mrs Melfuddle's letter to Ethiopia, by Barwin Burke, Stamps of the world by Brian Smith, Have fun with stamps by Sheldon Cooper, Knapsack, rucksack, haversack, stamps by Elise Surpreeze.. The list simply went on and on, like a sermon from your wife about tea stains on...

Mostly white South African, coming of age, feminist vibes I recall...could be wrong.

the lights came on. Nothing striking, average Hilton room, no gold plated cups, no gifts for spending large amounts on frippery and crap. Nevertheless, I decided to have a bit of exploration . The bathroom, red, elegant, suave, was exactly 💯 👌 of what I love, you see I

fell asleep, where, to my great surprise, I entered a new reality. 'Good evening', said the concierge, as I booked into the Hilton at London . 'Good evening..can you assist with the luggage, as well as an order of hot sweet tea with soya milk..room 456, pronto', I decreed, trying....

I didn't like it, got it from Leeds library back in the 1980s. Her and Nadine Gordimer, really dreadful disappointing lack of a juicy story all told.

Alohaaaaaaa..are you there..are you there...art..thou..there...?☺️

the local branch of the Philatelic Trust, a charitable organisation whose main .....

was just saying how she required a fresh cup of sweet, scalding tea....

he slipped away, and I was left alone, phone vibrating in my hand, suddenly realising I have an angry 'mistress', a livid wife, a Madame Biscuit, and, as if it's not enough, Millie waiting on progress. I had signed a contract. As I sat with Millie, her office full of candles 🕯 and candle stubs due to the power cuts, and her unwillingness to pay for electricity, I squinted at the small print. After I signed, Millie passed me a magnifying glass.....

I knew it wasn't mine. Looking about for the culprit, a bloke waved at me and said 'who smelt it dealt it..' Affronted by the effrontery, ....

I heard the dulcet tones of a familiar......

Agree. I read 500 pages of Archer and concluded it is rubbish, just recently.

Archer has a tendency to focus upon his several obsessions, art, women,and money. You usually get treated to many financial calculations, down to decimal points of how much someone is due to get, then observations about a beautiful woman, and a few musings on art dealing. I read 500 pages of his short stories then abandoned it.

doggedly and determinedly steadfast to the very last, wouldn't allow me to follow Charlene anywhere without her. So off we went, down a dismal corridor with portaloo bogs, one for men, one for women. 'Go in there', I said, '@nd let me know if Madame Biscuit is present ' But

tell her,' just think of the financial rewards of being with me', then when she let go, I hobbled away so swiftly....

my phone rang again. 'Hello..?..' I asked, as Bobert Gallstone said, 'there's another book coming out about espionage in the factories..apparently someone at Millie's millinery is....

It's me, Clothilde. The bloody council tax bill is unpaid, and I am looking not only squarely towards you, but also at being evicted in about two years time, due to your bungled frivolity.' 'But dear Danish gold star of mine', said I, attempting to assuage the pain, '@s said before, my business trip has taken longer than expected, not least due to the fact of me finding your shopping trips have cost me all bar my remaining 7 quid 14....you have my card..' Pythagoras......

God damn it all, my phone chimed again. Trying to ignore it, I began nonchalantly whistling , 'Hitler, has only got one ball, Himmler, had something similar', but, alas, despite my sterling efforts, Pythagoras was, as usual, on the ball..not Himmler's, nor Hitler's, but mine..metaphorically squeezing it tight...'@nswer the phone', she screeched, 🏃‍♀️ running towards me. My screen showed ,'she who must be obeyed..'Clothilde, my wife. 'Hello...?

pleased .'Is it a man? Sounds effeminate if he is', she said, her tone making it quite clear that the only playing sanctioned, was to be with her and only her. 'So, Mr Revolting, I'll be round at your gaff by 7pm tomorrow..do put on the kettle and prepare hot, sweet, densely strong, black tea for me', intoned Bobert , clearly thinking he knew more about me than was actually the case. 'Now listen',said Pythagoras, angry tears...

a nice cherry 🍒 red fedora with elastic green trim, a rhea feather on the peak. As I put it on, my mobile rang. 'Hello,is that John Revolting..? It's Bobert Gallstone from Wrongtime books..you recall we met..?..well...

making me puke, after which I felt way better. I said to Madame Biscuit '@s stated, je suis John Revolting, all I want is a hat, bohemian cherry if you will, and if...

'Monsieur Lamonde, je suis afraid vous have miscalculated badly. I hereby formally request vous redact votre statement.....

Je suis, ooh pardon.. I am the maitre d of zis establishment..ze name is..errm..Charlene Insupportable, at votre service.. ow may I...

I took off by myself, travelling all the way to Charlene's chapeaux, where I entered, and began browsing. Looking at their range of trilbies, sun hats, and flat caps, I was struck by.....