Woof Woofington

Is this Fawlty Towers Week? Now John Cleese Hits The Headlines...

Hey!  Something very strange is going on; the BBC is keen to drawn a big line under the 'prank' phonecall fiasco.  Heads have rolled, stars have resigned or been suspended and...I can't help but feel that Radio 2 listeners (to Jonathan Ross's show on a Saturday morning) have lost out.  But let's not go there because this debate could go on and on and on.

Anyway, anyway, it's OLD news now.  Right?

Well, the Fawlty Towers connection ain't going away.  

John Cleese, who played Manuel's boss (Andrew Sachs, in case you had forgotten!) has been promoting a programme on the Dave channel.  No bad thing. Except poor Mr Cleese is feeling rather battered and bruised from his third divorce that is costing him a pretty penny, which is why he has to do work that doesn't fulfil him.  Bet the PR people at Dave loved that!!!!

But what was the headline that grabbed media attention?  Well, it wasn't his new programme.  Nope. Mr Cleese has a lot to say on the matter of marriage (and having children) and believes that like dog licences, marriage should be renewed every five years.  Well, if we still had dog licences, he'd have a point but they were phased out decades ago.  It's so sad.  He's such a comic genius yet he just sounds like a bitter old man now with another axe to grind.

But it got me thinking; should everything in life be made into a contract?  Would it stop things like 'Manuelgate' happening?  Would listeners and viewers have to sign a contract before turning on the airwaves?  Hmmmm.  In the meantime, marriage contacts definitely are NOT the answer.   It's something that Madonna tried with husband Guy but that was a little one-sided and sounded like a long lists of do's and don'ts - for him.  And how embarrassing that it should be revealed to the world!  

However, this is not the point.  I think this week can only end one way - we need to have a Fawlty Towers marathon on the BBC.  Surely, what we all need is a jolly good laugh (and clearly NOT of the Russell Brand type...) so I propose they scrap the screening of the film Speeed (to replace Friday Night with Jonathan Ross - WTF?!) and give the nation what it really wants.  A throwback to better times - no credit crunch, no celebrity overload where a girl's desire to be a porn star can result in a Commons debate, no freaky weather like snow in October due to climate change....

So, BBC programmers, if you're paying attention...open the vaults and let the show begin...

Woof Woof  

Ross, Brand, Sachs, Georgina Baillie and...Max Clifford!

Jonathan Ross and his pet dog, Mr Pickle

Well, well, well.  What a to-do!  Talk about a storm in a teacup!  It's all been going on in dear old Blighty.  Forget the credit crunch.  Forget the George Osborne and Peter, nay, Lord Mandelson and their allegedly UNdodgy dealings with a Russian oligarch.  Forget the fact that the US will be voting for their next President any day soon....

No, what everyone is talking about now is...some salacious phonecalls made to Britain's favourite Spanish waiter, Manuel.

Actor Andrew Sachs aka Manuel in the 1970s comedy, Fawlty Towers was contacted by Russell Brand, with Jonathan Ross in the background, for Russell's BBC Radio 2 show.  Only he wasn't at home.  So they got his answermachine.  Several times.  Because they phoned him more than once and the prank got a little bit out of hand.  Your take on this whole saga will depend on your age.  Young people aren't bothered.  Older people most certainly are.  And heads are rolling.  And how!

Ross and Brand were suspended after BBC Director General, Mark Thompson, stepped in.  If nothing else, the two presenters have SOOOO ruined his holiday for him.  Now Brand has resigned.  But what of Jonathan Ross?  Who can say.

In the meantime, what were the phone calls all about?  None other than Andrew Sachs' granddaughter, Georgina Baillie aka a Satanic Slut.  That's her dance troupe's name, not what I am calling her.  You can make up your own mind when you check out their presence on facebook, my space and bebo.  But let's just say the Sachs progeny is not backwards in coming forwards!  What I'd really like to know is what dear old grandpa makes of his now infamous granddaughter?

In the meantime, it turns out that her PR agent is none other than Max Clifford, who, very handily is now free to concentrate his efforts on Ms Baillie having lost lucrative client, Kerry Katona.  I don't think Max is a bad person - he's got a Golden Retriever as a pet for goodness sake.  But Ms Baillie seems a bit of a Satan slapper, if you ask me!

Personally, I like Russell Brand in small doses; he is a cat man, after all!  (His feline fancy is Morrisey!) BUT Jonathan Ross is a dog man (well, of a fashion) and in spite of his enormous ego, he needs to keep his pets in the manner to which they have become accustomed.  Mr Pickle (his pug) will need new outfits.  If the BBC sack him...well, it just doesn't bear thinking about.  

Or does it?

Woof Woof

So the Material Girl is going solo. Guy Ritchie and Madonna may be divorcing...

So, word on the street, well, The Sun, to be precise, is that Madonna and Guy Ritchie are to separate and divorce.  Sometime soon.  Allegedly.

The reasons why may never really be known but it is assumed that the adoption of baby David was the nail in the coffin of their marriage.

I'm not surprised.  

As any couple going through adoption will tell you, those social workers leave NO STONE UNTURNED.  It doesn't matter how much money you have to fast-track the system, ultimately, adoption will pull a strong relationship together or expose the cracks that already exist. And drive a big fat wedge between them.   Because that's the nature of having children - biologically or otherwise.

Which begs the question, is it better to go solo?

Parenthood like dog ownership has its glamorous moments.  Having a dog or a child about your person is like another accessory.  It's de rigeur.  But the flip side of that is that, ultimately, you're responsible for someone or something else.  And personal wealth doesn't come into it.

Madonna may be separating from her husband but if adopting more kids is her goal, there'll be no one to stand in her way.

The Mistress knows of several people going through the adoption process right now.  Some are wealthier than others and those with cash have taken the international route.  Those who are more UK-focused have tried to work the system that seems so strongly stacked against them.  If Madonna had taken the typical route, she and Guy would never have been able to adopt their baby in the way that they did.  Fact.  But when did the Material Girl ever do things by the book?

So while money, it seems, can buy you children, it won't necessarily secure you a husband to do the parenting.

Woof Woof

Going for a walk in the park (Kensington Gardens, London) could kill you

News reaches me of the most thoroughly depressing kind.  As a dog, going for a walk with your Master or Mistress in Kensington Gardens could kill you.  And I am not kidding.

Each and every day the Mistress used to take me for a walk in Kensington Gardens and because I used to frequently run off in search of snacks, the Mistress used to get really cross.  BUT she never feared for my safety. 

Until the cyclists arrived, that is.  Truth is, cyclists regularly tore across the park BEFORE they were given the green light and managed to negotiate getting themselves their own cycle path.  Only, the thing is, they cycled on any and every other path in the park and, if challenged, would release a foul-mouthed torrent of abuse on innocent dog owners, tourists, passers by who were just enjoying the park for the purpose for which it was intended.  Relaxation and an appreciation/enjoyment of nature.

Fast forward to this summer and four dogs (including a puppy) have been killed by cyclists.  Two more have been seriously injured.  WTF is going on?

Those cyclists need to have the book thrown at them.  It's outrageous!

And just in case you think we are an anti-cycling household, forget it.  The Mistress got back in the saddle, as it were, and can now be found on two wheels across the capital.