Linda Sarah Helen

I note that my Twitter twin, toughie business supremo Jack Welch, has spotted Gordon Brown as 'a dead man walking'.

I agree: when you're so frazzled you storm out of a TV interview, the end is nigh.

Spot on, frère Jacques.

Deuced clever, therefore, for Gordie to have gone for the distracting ploy of dolling up his missus as a Helen Goddard lookalike. (OK, an HG d'un certain age).

Still hard to tell them apart.

Always thought that a presentable spouse was essential to Poisonality-challengés coves like dour Bruin.

Same went for that fakeroo Jeffrey Archer and his icy fragrant Mary.

But got to give it to him, he wove a damn'd good story. Some of his books were page-turners, too.

I had a 'Sarah Brown' once. Married her, too.

Much too good for me.

I remember sitting in the bar of the Mandarin Hotel Hong Kong eavesdropping on two shrewd types talking about *me*:

"Perfectly nice chap, but when it comes to getting things done, I say hire the wife or the brother."

God that hurt. Damn damn that hurt.

It hurt because it was so goddam true.

Great line, tho'.

Worst Lovers

"German men have been voted the world's worst lovers, narrowly beating English men to the unwanted title."

Well, she chose poorly, then. Only went one grade up.

WORLD'S WORST LOVERS:

1. Germany (too smelly)
2. England (too lazy)
3. Sweden (too quick)
4. Holland (too dominating)
5. America (too rough) So ... I thought chicks rather liked that
6. Greece (too lovey-dovey) Ha!
7. Wales (too selfish)
8. Scotland (too loud) Och aye, that's the lassies' job
9. Turkey (too sweaty)
10. Russia (too hairy)

WORLD'S BEST LOVERS

Spain

Brazil

Italy

France

Ireland

South Africa

Australia

New Zealand

Denmark

Canada

Spring forward ...

Therefore it is Fall back.

This year, the morning of Sunday October 25.

I find that my idiot gardeners calendar for this year, brought back from London by my jardinière maman, makes no reference to when the clocks change. Yet another beef I can pile on accursèd yardwork.

Loipon - mark your calendars, compadres - OCT 25.

One week after the Rev Gulland steps into the cockpit of Flight HTC and the day after my mother's planned hootenanny at Pagoda Corfucioso to let the great and the good meet our new padre.

We will not be caught off guard: the preceding Sunday (Gulland's first) has an announcement from the pulpit to reverse clocks and phones accordingly.

Death Drive for Daughter

~ Midnight + 1 ~

This is one of those stories to savour and re-read and just let the whole ghastliness seep in.

The black humour of it all surpasses the best scripting:

'Devoted' father Edward Goddard (that's him over there looking like some Incredible String Bandista) 'accidentally' kills his daughter trying to 'teach her a lesson' for asking for a late-night lift home.

By God, isn't that what we try to ram home to our kids?

Not to try anything silly

Not to assume we'll be angry

To count on parents.

At any hour?

And at what awful hour did she inconvenience her dad that she deserved being disciplined with"catastrophic head injuries"?

Dreaded 4am?

Dastardly 5am perhaps?

Nope - 1am.

One hour after midnight and you couldn't find the patience to bring her home safely?

You asinine creep - I hope they gave you the news real slow and turned the knife with equal patience at each sentence.

Oh poh poh - I woulda loved that job as you came to.

Le Bon Dieu planned it well there, boyo.

"He was annoyed at being called out at short notice at that time of night."

He didn't even give her the chance to wear a seatbelt for this little lesson.

This is the bit where I started smiling, where I read that Goddard himself had incurred head and spinal injuries and was unconscious for 12 days. That would have been a star-studded awakening.

Can you imagine the titters and expectation among the medical staff? They shoulda filmed it for YouTube; you don't get this sort of thing in the Vicarage Pantomime

"Goddard had no memory of the crash or the events leading up to it when he emerged from unconsciousness." Well, I guess we have to give him the benefit of the doubt there. But what a juicy sight to watch his expression change as they rubbed in what he hath wrought.

Jailed for 18 months and banned from driving for five years? I suppose that's enough to be going along with, time for it to sink in, yeh? But still lacks a certain imagination.

If I was the Beak I'd've ordered the culprit bollard cast in some cheap silver - dents and all - and presented to Goddard for placing amid the garden gnomes.

Snopesy comments - most as ill-considered as Goddard's original goof

'Should have taken Harrison's advice'

According to the great Hank B. Marvin, the Shads were 'idiots' to remain an instrumental-only group.

In fact, according to HBM, none other than George Harrison (of the Beatles singing/strumming combo) once advised them to start singing on their records. [My itals]

Well, George was taking the piss and trying to sabotage their possible seeping into the Beatles' own sales - or something like that, but definitely not sincere advice about "singing".

The Shadows were always the perfect vocal backing band of the doo-wop school such as demonstrated on dear Cliff's white trash version of Willie and the Hand Jive.

Despite their many changes and even efforts in the 1980s to go vocal, they were thwarted by the sheer blandness of their bald-tread voices - individually or in their 'Summer Holiday' cheesy harmonies, their vocal chords were completely without distracting character or timbre. They were the perfect foil for Cliff's own somewhat characterless singing and even on their own records, we turned the voice channel down after a few playings.

I remember on Oh Cangaceiro wondering when the lead singer was coming in and then realising he and everyone else had been in for the past several bars, just not made any impression on my ear-drums.

Can't you just see Harrison bursting giggling into the studio with a

"Wait til you hear this, lads - I just saw that Hank Marvin geezer from the Shadows and guess what I told him? Yeah, I said they should take up singing, like, and forget all that Fender stuff and swaying in step ... and you know what? I thinking he fookin' bought it."

(Sounds of hilarity and merriment)

Corfu and Border Zone

~ Albania, Greece and Macedonia ~

The Shrimp

And she was just pouring me some wine last night.

LINDY LOOKALIKE

At a glancing glance, bit of a ringer for Linda McCartney (ex-wife - now deceased - of Paul McC of popular Beatles singing combo.)

There their musical careers seem to diverge.

The school marm seems to have made a bit of a muck-up of a promising career.

Should she have walked free?

Too much biology

Dopey judge ... Insidious bid

'Sir' Allen Stanford in prison fight

He would be. Any toff would be tested.

The Speccie's Taki did time but the little Greek boy is an Nth dan karateka and I reckon a decent round-house kick established *his* credentials.

I did time - a very very little  time - on the In (you learn not to lie or boast) and it's true what they say:

Take someone out within the first days

Or become a big bull's bitch.

Al Stanford wouldna been up for either.

SINGLE LADIES

My current Can't-Stop-Playing it-Can't stop Lusting after the chick.

Lord Rumba of Rio and chanteuse Leona Lewis

And that is exactly the look *I* would have if I was that close to the entrancing songbird.

Blues Latitude

~ Guesting 'Fat Charlie' aka Roger Harris ~

SEPT 25: To Kondokali's G&M hostelry, rapidly becoming the place to hang thanks to Roy Kendle's blazing guitar work and the driving conniving foot-stomping chick romping Blues Latitude combo.

Bonus feature of the night, Roger Harris from “Roy Rogers Experience” and founder member of BL.

Perk of the job

This Prof who regards female students as a 'perk of the job' has it bang to rights right.

Also in the perk category are (or were in my time as a Book Publicist Supremo):

Many many types of radio or TV researchers, not to mention cub-ette reporters on their first big interview with a mega author

Cute authors one accompanies on national tours

Same goes for male authors and their audience, particularly them damn'd poets.

By the stanzas of Stesichorus! One evening's reading to the local ladies and all they'd have to do was scrape the best ones off the library floor and cart them up to their hotel room.

Hotel receptionists (see above in re author tours)

Fellow publicistas at Lit Conventions

Boozy Book Launches: purty much any lady with a pulse

Book shop openings

Magazine launches

Printers' parties to drum up new business (often wondered at the consistent pulchritude of some of those 'secretaries')

Art gallery/Record label/Theatre, etc tie-ins

** Psst, good comment by Sinbad. Vaut le clique.

Best Tube map pastiches

A Beach at Corfu

Most visitors' bloggings about the island are suitably awe-struck and not really worth a mention.

But now and then one comes along of particular ineptitude ... I mean, of all the beaches we boast, can you imagine choosing this one? Even calling it a 'beach'.

Honestly, one wonders why 'Preposterous' Jason even left Acacia Drive in the first place.

Kewl Komment: Good one from Sinbad that deserves to hit your eyeballs upfront:

"This 'beach' offers pleasure for wall-top viewers looking for a cruel laugh as dude bathers below get drenched (along with sunbathing kit) by successive waves from passing ferries that can be seen approaching for a good while before they arrive."

Kanye West Wankery

This post started life as a footnote to the Clijsters tribute but grew with every goof by Kunte West as his behaviour at Taylor Swift's award attracted increasing criticism and he himself showed his true colours - if one can use that loaded golli-word these days when discussing a brutha.

Word on the street is he was sloshed.

Anyway, he's mud on the block and it looks as if the lampoonery and contempt might dig into his standing and sales. R'spec' n all that, yeh?

The one I like best has KW rappin', "Yo Patrick Swayze, I know you just died and all ... but Michael Jackson's death was the best one this year"

Shiny black leather biker vest - this bloke's got your number, Kanye Wossyername

Off-record: 'Jackass' - President Obama

Even TMZ posts the Prez's remark

Sore loser backstage meltdown

Weepie: "Such a dick" ~ convincing tears

"Biggest piece of shit" - Pink (Don't hold back, girl)

Apology via Leno show: saying sorry every which way except face-to-face like a man.

Reaction at the time from that sweetie Taylor? "Oh, Kanye West is here".

I tell you, the grace and aplomb with which Ms Swift handled that bufone will stand her in good stead for many years to come.

The tape will be played wherever grace and self possession are saluted.

'Apology' remix

Personal apology ~ and a mini meltdown. Taylor must be simply dying over all the fuss ... and her agent rubbing mitts of glee.

Bizarre Blog: Remorse

Plonker and stonker: Perfect candidate, in fact, for 'Lord' Sugar of Sham:

"Yo, Brother SugarJowels, I know you just been ermine ignobled and all ... but Donald Trump's was the best 'Apprentice' this year".

West wankery fail

Good dissing of Microsoft using old wartime poster

Others here

"Lesson in Tough Love"

I was so moved by the excellent Mrs Moneypenny in the Sept 19/20 weekend FT, I was going to post the alcohol dependency link and tease you in with the section where she addresses,

"Those of you who have someone in their family who is alcohol- or drug-dependent will know how emotionally scarring this is. You love them, you want to help, you try to help, but they are living in another world. In their world, they are not addicts; they believe that they could give up at any time.

They always have an excuse. Something is always just around the corner that will fix their problems – if only they could meet the right person/get the right job/have the right amount of money, everything would be fine. Nothing and no one ever prepared me for the self-delusion of the alcoholic. Every time they say they are going to get help, your hopes rise; and invariably they end up being crushed again."

But then I noticed that the piece is

"Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2009.

You may share using our article tools. Please don't cut articles from FT.com and redistribute by email or post to the web."

And I respect the FT and Mrs Moneypenney and her uncharacteristic piece too much to flout it with my usual expansive insouciance.

So I'll leave it up for 48 hours only for the lucky ones who spot it and can benefit. Then I'll shove it in the draft basket for my salvation only.

Very nice piece, indeed.

British Vice-Consulate general

~ new details ~

Email: corfu@fco.gov.uk.

Precise geographical address: British Vice Consulate, PO Box 250, 18 Mantzarou St Corfu 49100.

00 30 26610 30055/23457 * fax: 00 30 26610 37995

Fun Blogs

Socialite cleared

'Flying' but not sloshed

I've nothing against Clare Irby. She looks a bundle of fun, the sort I'd party with any time.

Not sure if I'd risk (or feel like) feeling her up with a g/f like Sarah Hannon snoozing in the next seat.

On t'other hand, the amount I knock back in volo, who's to say?

What truly staggers me is that a "jury of eight men and four women at Isleworth Crown Court, west London, took just 40 minutes to unanimously find her not guilty of being drunk on board an aircraft."

I'm not saying they were bribed, just that there's one verdict achievable by the rich and another by the rest of us.

Gosh but well done the Guinness house lawyer! He clearly knows his law and its loop holes.

Look at the report when it first hit the headlines: that looks exactly the sort of hi-jinx that'd land you and me in clinky, and none too gently handled by the Fuzz at touchdown.

Charged with drunk on board after being arrested by armed police [my itals]

Said to have performed a sex act on the boyfriend of model Sarah Hannon while she slept in the next seat. C'mahn - cabin crew don't have time to make this sort of thing up

Nor do they have time or motive to cook up a cock 'n' bull fairy tale that Ms Irby knocked back "copious amounts of red wine, allowed a stranger to feel her breasts and stripped to her knickers." I mean ... s'truth ~ boobs *and* knickers?

Need a witness? "Miss Hannon woke to allegedly discover Daniel Melia and Miss Irby in a clinch beside her."

Waking from a stupor

All three arrested by armed police on suspicion of gross indecency, being drunk on an aircraft and failing to obey the instructions of the crew after the plane landed at Heathrow. [Bit hard on the snoozing girlfriend]

Miss Irby and Mr Melia charged with being drunk on board; Miss Hannon told she would face no further action. [I would think not. It's not as if she chopped her bloke's ding-dong off, which would have been her every entitlement]

OK, so La Hannon is "said to have fallen asleep after their drinking session, leaving Mr Melia to become friendly with Miss Irby." So tactfully put - and doesn't that just tell you everything you need to know about men? Mile-high kamaki anyone?

Loipon, Heiress Irby and the lucky lecherous Melia then "spotted under a blanket by the cabin crew, who tried to intervene."

"Miss Hannon is understood to have woken up at this point (oops!), to find her boyfriend allegedly enjoying the sex act in the seat beside her under cover of the blanket." Double oops.

Delight it's over

Why don't I ever catch X-rated flights like that? The most adventurous I get is 'Shirley Valentine' on the in-flight - minus the censored "boat-is-boat" dialogue.

What I'm saying is, read the original account for what the hard-pressed crew reported, then gasp at the miraculous verdict extracted by Ms Irby's honey-tongued counsel.

I've been in my cups mid-air, less compromised than heiress Irby but still deserving of the book thrown at me (which it was), and I had a very different day in court.

Dept of What did I tell you:The Daily Mail's no-BS heed-worthy Jan Moir gets it in one:

The feeble Crown Prosecuter ballsed it up.

To hell that their drunkenness related only to 'time in British airspace': she behaved like a tramp, so did he. And so did the tramp of a mother prancing about celebrating their disgraceful working of a loophole.

La Bella Bryony Gordon weighs in with her usual wit and forthrectitude.