Good-bye Kathy Staff - You Will Be Sadly Missed.

I have always believed that I was blessed with special powers, a seventh sense if you will. I posses the other six already, in abundance - taste, touch, sight, smell, sound, dress - but I have always felt I have a type of E.S.P.

This reared its mysterious head the other day when I was flicking through an old copy of Closer magazine by the indoor pool at Crusty Hall.

Loyal Crustettes will recall the revelations that Kerry Katona had 4 pints of fat sucked from her body. As a result she had developed a mum tum - a saggy, wrinkly gut to a layman. The magazine even printed a picture so its readers could understand the problem she faces.

Anyhoo.... I was looking at the picture and was just thinking how much her stomach looked like Nora Batty's stockings, when Chu Me broke the news to me that dear, beloved Kathy Staff had passed away!

This star of stage, screen and theatre was a sparkling diamond nested within a tray of cubic zirconia ... and Crusty, for one, will miss her - it truly feels like a member of the family has gone.

Kathy you have completed the rehearsal of life and moved to the grand production in the sky. Though Kerry Katona may have cellulite, you have a plethora of celluloid which will allow us to hold on to you and never allow you to be forgotten.

Colin Briggs & Mark Warr - Filling Crusty's Stockings

After breakfast on Christmas morning, Chu Me brought two sacks full of presents to my bedside. The sacks were filled to the brim of gifts from all the staff at Crusty Hall to their mistress.

I was shocked and surprised as Chu Me dragged them across the floor; more so because last year there were three! I could see some of the gifts were wrapped with silver paper, adequate enough for presentation to ones employer; others items, from the junior staff, were wrapped in pages from glossy magazines and tied up with shoelaces.

Oh God! It was going to be like a scene from Catherine Cookson's Rag Nymph (thankfully, the one and only time Jimmy Nail dragged up as bag lady Aggie Winkovski).

Still, I said nothing and thought that the staff have probably spent a little more of their wages on more lavish gifts, rather than presentation, hence the reduced number of sacks.

Crusty was wrong!

As I sat in my bed, opening parcel after parcel and hurling them, effortlessly, across the room into the large crackling fire, I began to feel no one understood Dame Crusty's needs at all.

Chu Me must have noticed me slipping into an abyss of misery. He gently placed his little hands on my own and asked me to lie back, close my eyes and relax; he wanted to show me something he thought I would love to have.

A tingle ran up my spine at the thought of what my faithful houseboy was going to reveal to me.

When I was instructed to do so, I opened my eyes slowly and there, upon my 28 incher, was my darling Mark makes-my-mouth-water Warr!!

What manner of magic was this? It wasn't the right time of day!

Chu Me told me I could turn over if I wanted; he demonstrated, letting his little fingers push my buttons, and then ... Colin his-twinkle-makes-y'-tingle Briggs!!

My body quivered like Dame Birley Shassey's upper arms, as Chu Me explained that since having my box enhanced, he had taken the liberty of recording the news segments from breakfast TV; providing me with an on-demand facility to watch my favourite presenters where and when I wanted. He had even used a clever facility where the recordings could not be deleted accidentally.

He did apologise as he had accidentally recorded another presenter in error, but as he took me to the snippet I discovered it was little Richard Thomas; I forgave him immediately. Though, Richard will never replace my affections for my two little poppets, he is what the children of the street call ... buff ... and one can never have too much eye-candy around one.

I felt like embracing Chu Me to show my appreciation, but he's staff and one mustn't do that sort of thing - it's just not good breeding - so instead, I promised him another two chickens for his coop and a blanket for his cock and sent him away, instructing him to cancel all my public engagements for the next week so I could bathe in the glory of my presenter pin-ups.

A Shoe Is Not Just For Christmas, President Bush!

Chef emailed Dame Crusty today from his family home in Italy; he was very concerned I wasn't receiving the nourishment I required.

I emailed him to put his mind at rest and told him how Chu Me was always managing to whip up something to put between my lips and munch on.

He attached a small link to his email. It is something I would love to share with my little Crustettes.

You will recall, not long ago, a young gentleman took off his shoe during a press conference and through it at Mr.Bush. I, for one, put down my gin bottle, sighed and wished that I had thought of that while we have been attending the same public functions... well now you can.

Chu Me and I have been playing it for hours...just click here and pick a shoe.

Christmas Breakfast at Crusty Hall

Christmas is a special time at Crusty Hall. As a sign of my appreciation, I like to give the household staff a short break to enjoy some quality time with their families and loved ones. I always feel they then have a greater understanding of how lucky they are when they return to work at Crusty Hall and remember what life could have been like for them.

One person who refuses to leave my side, however, is my faithful houseboy, Chu Me. His loyalty and devotion runs deep and Dame Crusty could not ask for more.

This year Chu Me took up a new hobby; keeping chickens - something to remind him of life in the village where he was brought up, in a land far, far away – so I give him a small plot of land against the stable block to build a coop.

On Christmas morning, I awoke to a gentle tapping on my bedroom door. Chu Me entered with a little glint in his eye. He said he was eager to give Dame Crusty a special little something for Christmas, while she was still in bed…

…A delicious plate of fresh scrambled eggs, courtesy of his chickens.

I was delighted and clapped my hands vigorously with excitement as I straightened my silk sheets in preparation, as Chu Me headed off on his quest.

From my bedroom window I could see Chu Me entering his special little place by the stable block .

It always gives Crusty a warm feeling inside when I see him gently cupping his eggs in the palm of his hand, dropping them into a basket, then firmly holding his cock, stroking it and giving its head a little kiss to say thank you.

His breakfast was a triumph and I can’t remember the last time I tasted something as delicious and creamy. It was the perfect start to my Christmas Day.

Eastenders - Bradley and Stacey Splash Out

A week ago, Chu Me convinced me to have my box seen to.

Late at night, when he has free time and nothing much to do with his hands, he explained he likes to watch many of the specialist channels on Sky. He has always maintained a healthy fascination in such subjects, since I took him under my wing, and that is certainly clear when I come to pay his credit card bill each month.

He always looks sheepish when he brings his statement to me but I don’t even look at it and reassure him I have no objections, whatsoever, to paying for his personal development. After all, even staff must have a hobby.

Anyhoo ... he explained Sky+, the wonderful new facility you have to record your programs and even freeze live shows with the aid of something hard inside your box, without the need for a video recorder.

At first, Crusty (not technically minded at all) did not believe such a thing was possible – it sounded like a flight of fancy from an episode of Star Trek. However, I arranged for an engineer to come and put whatever he needed into my box to satisfy my faithful houseboy.

The proof of the pudding was going to be my first recording. The engineer and Chu Me had both told me how simply it was to use and I’m quite sure Chu Me found it simple as the week went on, as he had spent considerable time in his private quarters using it to record, play and rewind his specialist programs over and over again. The panting and gasps of excitement emanating from his room proved he must have grasped it.

I had set aside a specific window of time on the Saturday evening to write out my Christmas cards to my many Crustettes, scattered across the four corners of the globe. After half and hour, the recipient’s cards I had not been able to complete, I would put to one side and they may have a little more luck next year.

Overlapping this allotted window was TV Outtakes with that old chestnut, Anne Robinson - I have always had a soft spot for this vicious little minx and the contrast between her taught, youthful face and the rest of her has recently proved fascinating.

Later that evening, I went to watch my recording and SUCCESS!!! The picture quality was far improved from that of my previous model – in fact it was a little too good and the sight of dear Anne stood there in her bright red frock was quite frightening - although when she opened her mouth to speak, it did remind me to post the cards I had written earlier.

The recording was perfect and there was no need to use the rewind/fastforward facility as the programme makers had already done that for us with clever editing to stretch a few of the same outtakes over the duration of the programme.

It wasn’t the best episode I’ve seen but it certainly showed me the wonders of Sky+. Though I must admit, Crusty couldn’t stop chuckling to herself at the sight of Eastender’s Bradley fiddling with Stacey’s cherries in Dot’s kitchen and having to splatter his cream all over her hands, arms and, at one point, her hair again and again and again.

The poor dear must have been exhausted!

Dannii - Fan of Formula One

I noticed those lovely people at my new bible for gossip, Closer, have given Danniiiiii Minge (sorry, my keyboard's sticking) her very own column - actually, it's a full page in this issue but in fairness the majority of the page is covered by pictures.

One of those pictures is of Danniiiii sitting on the side of a Formula 1 racing car, quite animate from the top lip down, and a small piece to the side, telling us what a fan of the sport she is.

Show Crusty a picture of you flying over the bonnet, dear, then you will have grabbed my interest!

Unsolicited Sales Calls - A Solution Doomed!

I don’t know about my dear Crustettes, but I have been getting increasingly annoyed by the number of unsolicited calls I have been receiving on the land line at Crusty Hall; Everyone is trying to offer me their wares; if it’s not double glazing, then it’s insurance or mobile phones.

The latter recently caused an incident that made Crusty chuckle loudly.

It all began when Chu Me had a member of his family visiting Crusty Hall. She was only here for a week and he felt she may get bored sitting in her suite with nothing to do – he’s often very considerate like that. He approached me as I was in the study having a good grope inside my box – this is where Chu Me puts all the correspondence I need to address that day and all the necessary background on places I am to visit during the course of my public duties – and asked if I would be gracious enough to allow her to join the staff.

At first I was a little concerned; her grasp of the English language was limited – her words on meeting me were, “Your nice Lady” - and I have to confess, I had seen brighter people working at my local MacDonald’s.

Anyhoo…I posed Chu Me with the question of what job she could do in the household that would not interfere with the other staff. After a moment he suggested she could be a filter.

I could not recall Crusty Hall possessing a fish tank and the fountain in the drive had been turned off for the winter. Also looking at the dear girl, I thought nothing could pass through those pores and then he explained she could be a filter for the telephone calls received on the land line.

I feel our plan was doomed from the start; we decided that in order for me to forget she was there she would not relay the message verbally but merely write key words summarising the calls on A4 sheets of paper with a black marker. To gain my attention she was to stamp her foot twice on the oak floor. I would then read the words and if the call was of interest, I would gesture with my hand and the call would be passed to me. If not she was to hang up.

Everything was going to plan. I was sitting watching my daily dose of Jeremy Bile and the phone rang. The dear girl shot into action; marker at the ready and A4 sheets on stand by. I watched as her tongue hung out of the corner of her mouth, her head tilted and she stabbed away with her marker.

First sheet ..... YOUR

Second sheet ..... ORANGE

then the next ..... CONT

I immediately spat out a mouthful of gin, and scrambled for the lead crystal ashtray to my left and flung it across the room. It glistened as it flew past the window, shooting a myriad of rainbow coloured lights around the drawing room, until it arrived at its destination and bounced off her forehead with a loud crack.

It was like a Hollywood action movie – everything in slow motion; as I screamed, “B-I-T-C-H!”, her chair fell back with an almighty thud and after a moment of silence all that was to be seen were two pale, spindly legs sticking up from behind the desk with a pair of pink flip-flops loosely hanging from the toes.

I reflected at the rudeness of the girl as I hung up the receiver – a visitor I had invited into my Hall - then noticed the last piece of paper she had held in her hand - flung into the air as the projectile hit – floating down to the floor. As it landed by my foot I noticed the words RACT UP.

I methodically pieced together the clues and then the penny dropped and in an instant Crusty howled with laughter. As I settled back in front of Jeremy Bile, I took up my gin and one reflected how the funniest things happen when one least expects them.