The Queen, I phones, Varicose Veins, and Recreational Drugs.

There is a Latin saying “ne quid nimis”, for those of you who are not pretentious, bogus intellectual snobs like moi, this means, nothing in excess. I do not hold with that at all actually. My life is crowded with incident and excess, it started on Monday, I had the map of England removed from my left leg by a very clever vascular specialist, with hot wires inserted in the veins all visible on a screen, he was aided and assisted by a team of beautiful softly spoken maidens. I had enjoyed a delightful conversation with a smashing lady earlier in the day about the recreational benefits of Marhawana which I can’t even spell . I have never tried it, but I can tell you it after this week I probably will. The varicose veins were the result of hours of standing making fatuous conversation at constituency functions and prior to that idiotic cocktail parties.

I broke with the rule not to attend these the week  before, where a very rude man with the usual rain forest of nostril hair, asked me what I was doing there? The implication being that I looked in some way unsuitable for such an select gathering of totally deaf people in posh clothes, smelling of mothballs all shouting their heads off. I found his enquiry offensive, so replied that I had gate crashed. This seemed to please him, and he enquired rather severely, how I had managed to get in? I told him I was a prostitute specialising in services to the older man and this was my area, and asked him if he would like my card? He replied alarmingly, that he was not averse to a bit of fun. The arrival of my very respectable and good looking husband was opportune, and I introduced the walking nostril hair to The Sainted One  with full titles etc . Nostril Hair looked both bemused and furtive and moved away. I passed him on the way out, he was engaged in a very dull conversation with a woman with white untended hair and minuscule eyes who resembled an iced biscuit. I interrupted in a husky but audible aside, that I would be grateful if he did not tell my husband about my little sideline.

All this put me in mind of our beloved Queen who stands making conversation for most of her life, I went to see The Audience, I don’t know who I admire most Helen Mirren or Her Majesty, the latter does not seem to have varicose veins and never makes a remark which the recipient could possibly think dull or mundane. Neither I expect does the genius Helen Mirren. She is quite remarkable. I bet the Queen does not have an Iphone. After months of bullying I got one this week and whilst charging it accidentally left in on record . It replayed a conversation which I would so much rather not have heard.

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