South PacificWhen I am eventually banished to that beautifully forlorn atoll in the South Pacific I shall fight to the death to keep a particularly bedraggled threesome from crawling ashore:
1) the wretchedly bipolar Legless Marine whose black Pythonesque irony can turn at a moment’s notice to holier-than-thou sanctity;
2) the utterly humourless Robbie25 whose fat flying fingers and graceless prose destroy any flash of intelligence he shows;
3) but, above all, the beturbaned and bearded Good40, whose fundamentalist fervour belongs in an Al-Qaeda training camp just outside Peshawar.
What a blight on any idyll that trio would be. By the way I shall welcome Beethoven’s middle quartets, an endless supply of Lafite ‘65, and the masterly Millholland affadavits as company. To live out one’s days with pleasure and a good hearty laugh – that’s the very point of it all, n’est-ce pas?