The Best Blog Ever

A Mr Frank Cottrell Boyce has been kind enough to say that this is the best blog ever. I really cannot comment as it would be most immodest to do so, however, who am I to disagree? My writing skills have often been commented upon. My last play, that I wrote for my annual Christmas get together at Homeward, was particularly well received. I must admit that there is only one great writer that I really look up to and that, of course, is Mr Ernest Wiseman. England, and probably the world's, greatest playwright. I shall never forget watching his depiction of the life of Elizabeth the first and that wonderful line "All men are fools, and what makes them so is having beauty like what I have got." Oh how true. I was moved to tears by the performance of the beautiful actress in the title role. Unfortunately I think she has become somewhat involved in the murky world of politics. She is certainly much admired by Beaver Hateman - in fact I think he might be a bit obsessed by her although he claims that it is the meeting of minds that he desires rather than anything as sordid as physical lust. Anyway, it seemed clear to me that Mr Cottrell Boyce was seeking some advice on how to improve his writing skills and I was going to suggest that he sign up to Will Shudder's "How To Write Really Well" correspondence course. The Old Monkey tells me that Mr Cottrell Boyce is in fact a writer of some repute, having written a number of moving picture scripts. Sadly it would appear that he is just another member of the moving picture industry attempting to butter me up in order to persuade me to allow them to make a 'blockbuster' of my life story. I appreciate that my story could be an inspiration to many common people. Born in the jungle of lowly birth. My parents were poor. Thrust into the world at an early age to make a living. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps to become the celebrity you see before you. But I value my privacy and there are unscrupulous people out there who may wish to dwell on some of the minor mistakes I made on the road to riches. The less said about bicycles the better. Many film-makers have approached me in the past. A Mister Bergman became obsessed with the idea of representing my battle with the Badfort Crowd as a chess game with Beaver representing death. How bizarre I thought. A Mister Allen from New York fell in love with the skyline of Homeward and tried to persuade me it would look amazing shot in Black and White. Beaver was very keen as somehow a love element crept into the script involving him and a somewhat radical young lady. No, I am afraid that flattery will not persuade me to allow my life story to be told on celluloid - not whilst there are still some empty places in my Treasury.