Rosie and I had to take the cure recently. The pressures of her work at Tiny Tots became so intense, it was even affecting me. On occasion, I became so rattled I would awake at ffice:smarttags" />11am, and be unable to return to sleep. ffice
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But, use the super-absorbent cloths and sop up the torrents of tears because we’ve been on holiday. Though it was not without stresses and anxieties. I am a man who contemplates an airplane seat with the same uneasy eye a French nobleman looked at Madame Guillotine.
We were also late for the flight, so I had to make a desperate excursion to "Books etc"* to grab three books without really looking.
Two formulaic thrillers and Moondust. It was a pleasant surprise. It is well written, with a good deal of research. Crucially it has a point - rather than a vague premise or snappy title which most popular non fiction seems to rely on.
I have two issues with it:
1. Overuse of the phrase, “I squealed with delight”. Three squeals is too much, Mr Smith. One makes you sound awfully camp. Two makes you sound like a 12-year-old girl. And three makes you sound like, horror of horrors, a Big Brother contestant. This is just a minor quibble when compared to…
2. The Richard And Judy Book Club emblem that’s printed on the front.** PRINTED ON. Obviously, I didn’t notice it, otherwise, the book would have remained as one of many etcs. What kind of shitcunt thinks associating the book with Judy Finnigan permanently is a good idea? Someone in marketing, that’s what type of shitcunt.
I mean, if you value Richard and Judy’s opinions, you’re going to be aware of the fucking book, from watching it on telly. Even if you’re too fucking thick to remember what books were featured***, surely a sticker would suffice.
I was forced to advertise the fuckers whilst abroad, which made me a more unwelcome advert for Britain than an Embrace-singing football hooligan. I took to reading it in private, whilst reading books with less offensive covers, (Mein Kampf, etc) in public.
(Still, at least I didn’t look as much of a cunt as the woman sat near us on a train who blathered on about the socio-economic situation of Sri Lanka and “how little the locals REALLY do for themselves” before picking out a copy of the Da Vinci Code from her bag. )
*The etc is particularly confusing because unlike a lot of bookshops, it only really sells books. Perhaps they wanted to call it “Books, books, books, books” but couldn’t fit it on the sign.
** You can see it. It's the white circular thing that looks like it should be a sticker in the right hand corner.
*** Not too much of a stretch given that their audience is entirely made up of students and the senile.
