The other morning I got a shock phone call at 9.30am.
No, it wasn’t from David Cameron offering me a position in the government which is surprising as I would make an excellent MP. After all, I have a lot of experience at doing nothing at all and getting away it. I would fit in perfectly and I’m sure I could find plenty of time to fill in my expense forms.
And no… it wasn’t from Angelina Jolie offering me a part in her latest movie as her twin sister. I think it’s because I have normal shaped lips. I mean c’mon are her lips for real? Actually, I think her lips are the real thing because she’s had them so long. (Since birth apparently.) Anyway, they didn’t inflate overnight like most celeb’s lips. Hmm…so I guess flicking your finger between you lips as a kid and making brrrrring noises does pay off then.
And no… it wasn’t from Barack Obama telling me he got a role in the remake of Dumbo. To tell the the truth I’d never noticed he’d got big ears. But now I know, I’ve told Master Ben not to worry about the size of his ears as even though he might get his head stuck between some railings he could still become a world leader.
And no, it wasn’t from the captain of the Costa Concordia reassuring me that he “fell into a lifeboat.” This is because I know how to “fall into a sweet shop”, “fall into a bottle of red wine” and “”fall into Marks and Spencer’s delicatessen.” Get my drift.
And no, it wasn’t from Michael Jackson telling me his death is a spoof and he is currently living in Las Vegas disguised as an Elvis impersonator. Because then it wouldn’t be a secret and some twit on twitter would announce to the world that Michael Jackson is not dead and everyone would go round to his house and annoy him some more.
Actually the phone call was from Young Sam. Now the first shocking thing about this call was that it was at 9.30 am. Normally, he is still concussed at this time. However, from the timing of this call I deduced that either a) he hadn’t actually gone to bed yet b) he was very short of cash c) he used up his last clean pair of underpants or d) he had something really important to tell me.
It was d)
Young Sam had rang to tell me that he’d got a first in his latest essay. This is hard to believe as I know him. However, he has switched to philosophy this year which (and I studied it for a year at university) I refer to as the “Bullshitting Degree”. Now this is not like a Media Degree which is just bullshit but “proper” bullshit – ie the type politicians use.
So all those years of bullshitting debating with Young Sam in the kitchen have finally paid off.
Now all I have to do is to get him to go into politics and I’m saved from destitution in old age. Free heating bills, trips to Bingo and healthcare for OAPs and I’m sorted. Excellent.
Hmm..Maybe some free trips to the West End Theatres too….and maybe Champneys.
It’s not a lot to ask for his beloved mother.
No, really.
3.10pm – Oh come on, somebody somebody rise up in favour of Media degrees. Let’s have a battle of words! Do some flan flinging. Hmm… me thinks I’m bored; I need some intellectual stimulus. Okay, okay I’ll look up the Open University prospectus then……ugh Media…
