Crustettes will know that one is currently enjoying a short break away in Valencia, at Crusty Towers, with my faithful houseboy, Chu Me. It is very sad that one’s time here is drawing to an end but Crusty can never tire of returning to her beloved Crusty Hall.
This morning, very early (I like to keep the staff on their toes), I telephoned the household to ensure preparations were being made for my return. A member of the staff informed me all would be ready and the Bentley would be waiting to collect Crusty and Chu Me from Newcastle International on our arrival.
I attempted to catch the girl out by confirming all news reports from my poppet, Mark makes-my-mouth-water Warr had been recorded on Sky Plus but as the girl tried to answer (forgive me, I don’t know her name – one can’t remember them all!) there was a horrrrreeennnnndddrrrrrous howling in the backround.
“What on earth is going on?!" I yelled, "I hope my Hall is not being used for an S & M club?!”
“No, Mistress,” she replied, “that horrible woman you dislike is back doing the GMTV North East bulletins! Her voice has set off all the dogs in the village.”
The poor dear seemed petrified as she broke this news to me.
“SHE IS WHAT???!!!!” I exclaimed. “Cancel ALL recordings she is involved in, Crusty does not want to see that face splattered over her 28 incher!”
I immediately slammed down the telephone and called one of my contacts via international Gusset-phone to ensure I was not being toyed with – like a kitten plays with a ball of string.
It was true! My levels of devastation were incalculable and even throwing an empty Cava bottle from the balcony of my eighth floor penthouse and hitting a tramp beautifully on the back of head as he rooted through the bins next to Torres de Quart made Crusty feel any better.
One doesn’t know what those in power at Tyne Tees are trying to prove in this perverse game they are playing; teasing us with my poppet and his glorious news delivery and those eyes – like cool, deep pools of tranquillity, placed artistically on a landscape of gorgeousness - for a couple of weeks, then thrusting the dagger of the squinty, eyelash flapping, canine vocal qualities of Helen PeengPong (or some such fancy) upon the North East of England and Border regions (Mariah Scary can hit a high C?… you want to listen to GMTV North East new bulletins, dear, this one can bring an aircraft down with the morning headline!)
Though my fury and devastation are immense and I am feeling vibrations of anger in places I didn't know existed, I must rejoice and take solace in the fact that I am still able to take my little Marky aurally for three hours on a Sunday afternoon or during the early hours of the morning, depending on the slot those clever executives at Smooth Radio give him.
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
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Dame Crusty, we have missed you and I think it is quite fitting that you return today, of all days, St. George's Day (even if he was a turk). In your absence not only has the local Tyne Tees-Cumbria-Borders-Isle of Man-North Yorkshie television channel lost the plot in moving Markie Warr to one side for Helen PeengPong again but more alarmingly the country has lost the plot. Why do you ask? Not only are we in the depths of a recession that has not been seen since the start of the Nations favourite daily press, the Daily Foam and the effects of Alistair Eyebrows Darling Budget but the nation has voted Geordie gal Cheryyyyl Coal as the Worlds Sexiest Woman 2009. I fear I may need some extensive therapy other than that at the bottom of a bottle of Vaux Samson bottled in 1965. Yours Stumpette
ReplyDeleteMy dearest Strumpette,
ReplyDeleteFirst of all I must apologise to you for not replying to your post earlier. As you may have read, Chu Me and I have been visiting one of my many international properties for a brief respite after he awoke one morning to find a fox had ripped the head of his cock off.
Since returning, a further delay in a response has been caused by the information regarding Cheryl y'-nailed-it Cole and her appointment as Worlds Sexiest Woman 2009.
A day after returning and reading your news I started to feel ill and ...well, not to put to fine a point on it ... projectile vomit was the word “de jour”. At first I thought it may have been induced by something one had swallowed on holiday but the village doctor, Arthur Pedic, concluded it was an adverse reaction to this horrendous news. You know, sometimes Crusty just doesn’t understand the great British public, although one suspects she was chosen at random by some magazine editor closing her eyes and sticking a pin in a photograph (pity it couldn’t have been the real thing, dear, is it not?).
Now, reading this I do not want you to feel guilty, in the slightest, for making Crusty violently ill. One likes to be kept up to date will all celebrity gossip no matter how shocking…plus the weight I have lost has allowed me to fit into a rather stunning Size 6 Prada Ballgown I purchased some years ago.
Crusty xxx