Mark, as my loyal Crustettes will know, was viciously made redundant from Tyne Tees news department by an executive who misguidedly thought he/she was capable of making an objective decision during the recent ITV downsize.
How wrong they were … and heaven only knows what waste-of-space we are to endure in his place or what strange non-native accent we will be subjected to. I for one will never know as I shall not be watching.
My faithful houseboy, Chu Me, sensed that his mistress has been slipping into an abyss of despair over the last week and instructed a young staff member from the laundry room to stay with me while he was busy tending to the efficient running of my Hall.
Last night, as I felt listless and thought my depression could not sink any lower, I staggered up the stone staircase of the tower on the east wing, my young companion in tow, and stood at the summit waling and snivelling, trying to swallow my Gin without choking as I gasped at the air for my next breath. As I stood their looking at the sheer drop beneath me, there was only one thing I could do to try to relieve the pain……so I pushed my chaperone off the edge and as I heard her screams disappearing beneath me I realised it didn’t make me feel any better at all!
I returned to my private office alone and wrote my own little homage to my early morning studmuffin. A sentimental piece of private poetry that was emailed to him in time for his last two bulletins.
I’m quite sure he will be snapped up and be back in our lives again.
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