I’ve been the recipient of loads of ‘phone calls, emails, texts and other messages since appearing on the Weakest Link: they have been almost entirely positive …
Fester went to the Kingsman Epiphany Curry on Wednesday
evening, after watching the show with me.
He returned after closing time with their verdicts …
1.
She was robbed
2.
She didn’t like that hypnotherapist bloke
3.
Potato? Next
time you see her say “Plant dear”
Which seemed fairly fair.
The piece-de-resistance came yesterday afternoon when The
Joculator rang with his four penn’orth.
I first met The Joculator a number of years ago on Elvett
Bridge when Tyne Bridge danced at Durham Folk Party. Even though his team wasn’t there he was in
kit and asked my permission, as bagman, to take our collecting bucket around
the crowd. When he came back, having got
£15, not knowing my name he called out “Where’s Mrs Bucket?” – which is what he
has called me ever since.
The Joculator had watched The Weakest Link with his wife,
family and in-laws; none of them knew the result.
“We were cheering for you all the way” he said “the
neighbours must have thought we were watching a football match the roar that
went up when you were voted off.
“The mother-in-law found you right away in the line up” he
went on “she says ‘Is that her?
The thing is, whenever I watch Hetty WainthropInvestigates I am reminded of my mother, who looks at me out of the
mirror more and more these days. So,
whilst I howled with laughter, I wasn’t at all insulted or upset (which the
Joculater knew anyway).
Besides which, there are far worse people to resemble than Patricia Routledge, or even Hyacinth Bucket.
I have no idea why the font is all over the shop in this blog - I have tried my best but the blasted technology has defeated me!
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