Saturday, Sept. 13, 2003

In between the property section and personal ads you may have seen the occasional, what we laughingly call, article. This is where the budding journalist, or stringer, gets to show their potential talent in the hope they'll get read by one of the 'regionals' and make their move to the big time, and earn enough to live on the fashionable West Side of Brentwood. For a fucked off hack like myself it's extra work to fill another page with some meaningless tat about the neighbourhood - and continue to live on the unfashionable inside of Grays.

This weekend I put my Foreign Correspondent skills to use, and got the hell out of Grays to the salubrious, (in comparison), Maldon, on the coast of Essex, near Colchester. This weekend is Heritage Open Day 2003. I decided not to wear my press pass considering the debacle at last weeks Orsett Country Fair - a lot of those middle class wankers live around here. Thankfully this is far too intelligent for Jade to appear at, anyway, she'd think it was in Holland or somewhere on the continent.

I found myself on a tour of the vicarage at some dilapidated church. Not normally open to the public, the vicar decided to show people around his humble abode. There'd been alleged ghost! sightings in his bedroom. Yes, the room was full spirits. I tripped over a collection of martini bottles that rolled out from under the bed. I'd brought Dave along with me who said it would be a great chance of getting a picture of an orb. He wanted to bring his night vision lenses with him. Quote: "Fucking orbs Dave? Have you been watching 'Most Haunted' again? And I'll be fucked if I'll stay here tonight with this gay blade!" It's been a long time since I've been to church, but I never saw copies of "Spank" along with the hymnbooks, like he had under his pillow.

"You might feel something here," he said. Naturally I had to slug the little fucker as he brushed by me. The gay vic was rolling on the floor bleeding profusely from the face. Nobody saw anything, but Dave was sure he'd caught it on camera. I'll be nobbling that cheeky cunt in the dark room on Monday. He had me for over a grand for the negatives of me crapping in the Lake at Lakeside.

On a more Royal note, a mate of mine at the Palace slipped me this delightful little text message that I can neither confirm nor deny:

"Camilla Parker Bowles has complained about indigestion after having oral sex with Charles. Her doctor has suggested she use Andrews..."

Catch you later

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