GUNS AND STABS
In the chest - no foppish low blow - fatally.
Is there no adult channel one can watch for grown-up news? Are they merging everything into one ~ news lite, Pick of the Pops, Old Grey Snuffed It Test, Bill and Ben?
In the chest - no foppish low blow - fatally.
Is there no adult channel one can watch for grown-up news? Are they merging everything into one ~ news lite, Pick of the Pops, Old Grey Snuffed It Test, Bill and Ben?
Just when I was wondering where Corfu's premier country crooner had disappeared to, up he crops on ever-reliable WhatsUp-Corfu with a whole slew of dates.
Note them now:
Kerkyra Golf - I was going to catch Ricardo's last gig at the Kerky' Goff - and he had even spelled out the venue when I last saw him and yummy Danielle - but then the trophy blonde I invited along proved true to her Clairol cuteness and persuaded me it was the Kondokali Bay joint where Richard was playing.
All we got was the usual Greek stage act with many a gesture and opahs! and shy-making haulings of geriatrics on stage.
Since I fit that profile exactly, I told Blondie we were skedaddling before she caused any more ruckus.
Danielle ~ speaking of la belle D, I think it was they themselves who told me that she occasionally sat in on the act, plunking a keyboard chord or two and trilling along in country-style harmony.
If that is so, they should jolly well mention it ... zut et rezut, who wants to look at his craggy mug? Whereas chaps will sit for hours swaying to the most unconvincing cod balladry Hank-ery pankery, if there's a babe involved.
Loipon, cowboy up and do your bank balances a favour by dolling up some posters to include a glimpse and promise of thet thar Danielle Délicieuse.
Rose by any other name ~ speaking of monickers, Corfu's own Glenn Mulcaire tells me that Ricardo Lane also trades under the less catchy handle of Steve Whitty. So if you see announcements of a 'strummer' Whitty, that'll be our boy. Or not. It may be the name our Ricky goes under to elude those country groupies up north in Acharavi.
St George's Bay Country Club - Fried Aumann runs the swankiest, luxuriousest, efficientest, relaxingest club in the Ionian, and the brochure is right ~ don't call it a hotel; it's a club. A wonderful friendly portal to Paradise, plus a gorgeous spa you can spoil yourselves in.
If Richard's clinched a gig there, that should tell you enough about how good he is.
Oh, and if you think I'm piling on the compliments to wangle myself a freebie, you're too late: the generous Herr Aumann has already lavished a gift certificate on maman, so I can be as fawning and favouritising as I like.
Corcyra Beach Hotel - this should be an easy evening for me, just on my doorstep, but the 28th happens to be maman's 91st birthday, an intime dinner is planned by my chef-sommelier brother (all the way over from Italy), and my presence as smarming waiter would be missed - even as the assembled company keels over with suppressed rage at having to sit through the 700th re-telling of the same old boring snoring sagas, not to mention the family joke about my brother's security-challenged palazzo, Villa Thefti, nor omitting the San Luca mantra that, while Italians take the prize for thieving, Corfiots are merely liars.
Très drole, I must say.
I also give a little shudder when I pass by, remembering my rubber-necking days around the Louis Corcyra Beach hotel ['carbon monoxide to the gentry'].
They pretended that it closed but I was there hanging around chatting up the red-top vultures and feeding misleading tips to the hacks [dread word!] and its gates were open every day. OK, a token show was made whenever foreign press showed up but I had a fierce German lady friend who did business with the Corcyra B and she was busing them in sans problème or delai.
But it's maman's venerable birthday so I'd better be there, which doesnt mean that you should deny yourself the chance to yodel along.
Yodel and ogle ...
Can't you just imagine the prelim argy-bargy negotiations?
"So, infidel, you wanna make photo? What paper this for? Croydon Advertiser? Bravo.
We make good photo - Salome! A clean white vest and my new foulard from Marks n Sparks. I lean back, I drape like this. Look cool.
Bubba, you stay there, look fat and stupid like always; wear that naff cap, look more stupid. Put out bare foot so you look like peasant.
Ziad, you can stay in photo but hold strimmer upside down like you dont know ass from elbow. Also keep expression of lose plot.
["Captain! Government forces surround us!"]
Later, fool! I no yet choose cool shades.My Armani? No, too gay. Lidl Special Offer? Boring. Salome - fetch my Gondolo 'Blue Steel' - perfect.
OK, infidel, can take photo now.
Must show contact sheet, or you no leave with man voice."
Hey girls (and other Kymaleons), gather round.
Big day coming up ~ le tout Corfu will be milling and spilling and troughing and sluicing.
So listen up ~ I may not say it again.
FEEDS & POSTS ~ Cornucopia of Carolinia
I know we've stood there knocking back the Fixes, jeering at the forlorn figure across the road, crouched over her tiles and tapestries ... and all the time we believed that Pebble Purveying Periptero was actually open. Doh!
Wrong, sweeties. That was just practice to see who her real friends are ...
Mark your diaries for the count-down.
I mean really when? 20:30 - 23:30 [8:30pm - 11:30pm]
WHERE? - Kontokali. near the entrance road to the Gouvia Marina, opposite Navigators. Tel. 6938376462
WAZZUP? - Caroline invites you to the official opening of her new shop.
GLUG GLUG - "Join us to have a glass of champagne and if you wish to stay longer, some great live music at the Navigators bar just over the road."
IF you wish to stay longer? IF?
That Pebble Pushing Poppet is just too darned polite.
Read my lips - no If.
That chickadee is bankrupting herself serving up champagne (ok, it's one glass only, I grant you, but the price of that glass could pay for some thread to patch up a raggedy hand-me-down, or a bus ticket home, or some fresh plastic for the flip-flops she wore out trudging home for lack of that bus ticket ...).
Things'll improve as we punters keep her cash register ringing, so up 'n' at it, citoyens.
Of course you stay longer and drink a little, peruse a little, spend a little, drink some more, spend some more. Drink spend, drink, spend ... spend, drink ... spend spend drink ... er, spend.
Anyone caught darting out into the night without at least one original 'Philp' in their knapsack will be pilloried and persecuted ... repeat offenders will be reported to Susan.
SEE YOU THERE!
(Said in scariest basso profundo 'Godfather-meets-the-Crypt-Keeper-meets-Voldemort-meets-Unrefusable Offer' voice.)
Who's the hottest tottie in mesmerising Downton Abbey?
Can you imagine the casting director's joy to come across not only a beauty who could act but also one who could dispense with a voice coach?
I love to see the Filth clutching at straws, gasping for life-lines, wanking not waving.
Here is as unconvincing a pack of smarmy pathetica as you'll see smearing your screens over the hack factory probes.
ANDY HAYMAN ~ do stick it out until 3 mins 26 secs in when Andrew Hayman knots the noose round his scurvey scrannel.
If ever guilt spilled forth, it's here - lies lies and more lies, including 'a' and 'the'.
I was actually after the Beeb coverage of Hayman exploding with his now famous Good God! reaction to a pointed suggestion.
Heebers jeebers! Can you imagine the arse covering and fall-guy scrabbling going on? Gotta love it.
News in - the hot 'Bekah resigns.
My pal Sasha came to stay for a few days, she who'd lent me the DVD of Thank You for Smoking that I was watching in my brother's house when it dawned on me that my box of jewels was sitting on the neighbouring dressing table.
I had a favourite favourite cardigan bought by my ex wife 20 years ago right here in Corfu.
I spotted it immediately as a candidate for export - but where hide it?
Then a brilliant thought - give it to Sasha to take home.
But not a word to the others ~ I wanted the glee of watching everyone sniffing around and wondering where the darned thing had gone.
Curses foiled ...
DECANTER - In turn, Sasha had given the house a wonderful decanter and two glasses.
As I've acquired an eye for what my mother prefers to donate to the 'Mausoleum Formerly Known as Thefti', I've learnt what to hide away in advance.
I had thought of smashing one of the glasses, rather than have it vanish without trace into the maw of the Theftiria), but a vigilant pal whisked it away for safe keeping ... heh heh.
As most folks know, I try never to say anything nice about anyone. Against my principles, especially when it's a question of complimenting some writing, daub or musicking.
Woot! Knives out, bovver boot in.
But what I can't resist is those cosily aloof types ~ all wan 'n' wistful.
Bang, crash; straight onto the floor. Out for the count.
I know, a bit kinky and I'm raising it with my shrink.
Scenario :
Newsagent
'Mornin' Kosta'
'Kali mera, Bill'
'My copy of 'Big 'Uns' in?
'Over there'
'Mornin' Kosta'
'Ya sas, Mister Henry'
'My copy of 'Asian Babes' in?
'Next to 'Horny Housewives'
Holmes ~ 'Morning, Kosta. My Wistfuls Weekly arrive by any chance?'
Kosta - 'By the thong of Theseus, Christo! How many times I tell you - keep your voice down! You want me busted for porny peddle?'
Sorree! And off I trot with my plain wrapper to ogle the latest crop of sad-eyed ladies of the Lowland.
Centre-fold - Ooh! Melancholy Maureen of Marlborough ... look at that sad moue and quivery lip ... swoon grunt.
I can't think of any other reason for writing again about the carolinian crafts of Kyria Wistopoulou of Kondokali.
Kύμα/Kyma ~ Greek for 'a little wave of gifts', hence the link to the tune.
It should have been Caroline, as in tribute to the Boss Lady, but this is a manly blog, no Big Girls Blouse chansons, mkay?
The ladies have that extra chip that flashes an Error sign when Y-chroms get silly.
Bwaarp! Achtung! Twat at play.
Ecky thump! Another bubba bites the dust.
Cool stuff ~ Unusual and unique painted gifts for your pals and preciousest.
Oyez! Heed me - this is where you pick up that killer gift for Her Back Home.
You might also spot something for the wife.
Drift wood signs ~ 'Dun Wankin' ~ 'The Rumpus Room' ~ Hombres' - Show her the baubies and Carolina will fix you up.
Portrait commissions ~ check out Caroline's Facebook wall snaps - stunning. A real skill with faces and physiques. Might even make your kid or missus look vaguely human. Joke.
Where - You can find Kyma in Kontokali near the entrance to the marina, opposite "The Navigators"
Tel: 0030 693 387 6462.
Tessa Margrethe Cross ~ Not for the faint-hearted.
White Mountain Wistless - Major Babes always have 'A Friend', am I right? One minute you're chatting them up all smooth, best Hugh Laurie Player Pleasantries ~ next, up sidles aforesaid 'Friend' and you know your moments are numbered.
"Oh, there you are ... Chris, this is my friend Tessa"
Firm shake of hand, offer of seat and a drink ... smiley smiley ... but behind the crinkled eyes and perfect gleaming teeth ... it's like
"Ayup, wot've we got here? I've got your number, mush.Tread real careful, I've met your species of lounge lizard before. Real careful."
I kid. But if I'm paying tribute to La Philpa, I have to salute her smashing pal, Tessa.
There. Tribute paid, kept it short because T has short shrift with smarm. (Just as I was getting into the oily swing of things)
Par exemple, that artistic photo yonder. Fine example of colonial chinoiserie.
They were fixtures on every corner of a mandarin's house: the monsoon rain pours into the tail and gushes forth from the mouth. Magnificent sight. My grandparents' mansion at Shau Kei Wan had them on every corner and we'd stand beneath and let the drenching begin.
Miss Tessa would notice the shadow of the tap and enquire archly,
"Brewers droop?"
I joke. She's a darling. But I tread careful. I've seen her in her pirate gear: very walky planky.
Moonshine - I had to snap a Kyma leaflet leaning against a jar of my mum's fermenting next batch of San Luca moonshine.
Double double toil and trouble: Powerful brew, doth maman concoct. Right now it's at its Macbethian Jim Beam-meets-double fillet of a fenny snake, eye of newt, boring old toe of frog (Scovto does some good ones), wool of bat, blind-worm's sting ... got a right oomph does Mum's Mix Special.
Offered some to that Charlie Sheen when he popped in for tea:
"Dude! [splutter gasp] Got any anti-freeze or chilled arsenic? Rough night, last night, I think I'll ease back into the sauce with a soft drink."