Monday 30 May 2016

The Moatman Interviews -S5- No.6 'The life and times of a former green rage monster' ft @Halksmush

The Camera opens on a spacious conservatory with white patio garden furniture. Looking out from the conservatory is a neatly kept green lawn with a rabbit sitting peacefully nibbling some grass. Sitting at the circular conservatory table is an elderly gentlemen wearing what looks like a tea cosy on his head. It's a face that we recognise well from numerous Moatman Interviews, so numerous in fact that this is the 50th Moatman interview today. "Gosh" says Boff when he's told this, before expanding further to say "I didn't even realise that I knew 50 people..."

A few seconds later today's guest enters the conservatory carry two cups of tea and a small cake on a tray, which he places on the table next to Boff. "phew, it's a bit warm in here isn't Boff, do you want me to open some windows" he asks. "I was quite enjoying the warmth, its been so cold of late" replies Boff, as today's guest takes his seat and proceeds to cut himself a wedge of cake. It really is quite a refined little set-up you have here.

"So then!" exclaims Boff, "onward!" "Today, is a very special day as it is indeed my 50th Moatman interview, and I can't tell you how happy I am that today's guest agreed to take part. An old friend of ours who's been around since the start and brings his own sense of random and silliness to the Twitterverse. He's a former green rage monster who has since sort calmer pursuits, and today helps keep us all on our toes with his vast experience of hero-ing type stuff. Yes, today's guest is our very own Halksmush. *Boff raises his tea cup to Smush with a smile*

Smush straightens his hair with his hands and adjusts the lapels of his tweed waistcoat, pulling the T-shirt underneath down to remove any creases. On reflection, Smush seems a quiet fellow, his days of racucous chaos somehow behind him and a new zen calm palable from his demeanour. So I wanted to begin by asking when did you first realise that you could turn into a huge green rage monster??

Smush begins by refuting the claims that he gets his powers from eating a banana. Although he does endorse bananas as a healthy source of potassium. No, he got his powers by accident on night when trying to interface with his computer. Instead of making the Kelly Le Brock girlfriend he'd hoped for, the electric surging through him created the wild green breast. He was so cross that he smashed his SEGA Megadrive. After pausing for a moment and wistfully looking out at the lawn he shrugs and simply says "Anger gets the washing up done sometimes. it's useful when bottled".

Boff nods and agrees, and washing up liquid is green too. I bet that's not a coincidence. "May I have a slice of your cake" asks Boff "oh of cause" replies Smush slicing a wedge of cake and reaching for a small serving saucer. Boff continues "and to begin with, you found it a struggle to control your new powers, the incident in Bejams being a particular low. Can you tell us about those early heady days?"

Well Boff, I met ex-Bristol City and Scotish footballer Joe Jordan outside Bejams, completely by chance you understand. I don't normally frequent with such types. Anyway my dog didn't like him and started barking. Joe took offence to this and started swearing at the pair of us, I had no idea what he was saying but he prodded me with his finger and said something about dog and sunny Jim. Complete wanker to be honest, but that's when the savage beast came upon me. I'm not
proud of what happened next, I'm not a violent man Boff.

I think that's entirely justified to be fair, no one likes being prodded outside Bejams, well, except for my Auntie Mandy, but she doesn't count to be honest. Another question I had was around wardrobe, did you get through a lot of clothes? any particular embarrassing moments when the stretchy trousers didn't quite stretch enough if get my gist?

I must admit I do get through a lot of boxer shorts Boff. I often wonder if it's even worth bothering with underwear at all sometimes. When you do the cost of washing versus just buying Asda pants once a week. I suppose on the flipside of the coin it does save on laundry detergent doesn't it. I should also say that I take my responsibilities seriously, thus far *touches wood* there haven't been any unfortunate boys out of the barracks moments when I've transformed.

Wow, Asda pants are alot more sturdy and forgiving than I had realised. That's marvellous to hear, now I know you're kind of shy about talking about your hero days, but you did get into the hero-ing after a bit, and joined a sort of team, so i wanted to ask what was your most proud moment from those days?

Smush pauses at this moment, looking down and smiling to himself as if recalling some glorious adventure from his past. He gives a little sigh and then says "I once won a chlli eating and vodka drinking contest against a biker the size of a mountain. Proud day, Proud day".

I see, so not all those people you saved?
or the time the Russian nuclear sub went haywire and you dived to a depth of 15,000ft to free it's propellers, and bring it back to the surface? "Nope" says Smush, "Definitely the Chilli, the guy was huge Boff". before adding "I did once climb into the Blue Peter garden for a laugh, it sort of didn't go as well as I had planned, but that was pretty cool too". Wait, wasn't that John Fashanu? oh my god! Best move swiftly on, err you soon went solo again, can you tell us what caused the split and how it was like coping on your own?

This particular question seemed to tug on Smush's heart strings more than the others, for a moment he clams up and tells Boff that he doesn't like to talk about it. Clearly even after all
these years the super hero rift thing has still causes him some pain. The President said at the time he was suprised by the sudden split and hadn't realised that Halksmush was quite such a big fan of Star Wars, probing a little further Smush looks glumly into his tea and simply says "Han solo dies" a cryptic answer, but perhaps eluding to the rumours that the rest of his team didn't respect the 'no spoilers' rule, particularly Future boy who had already seen all nine Star Wars films by 1992.


"ahh sad times" says Boff, also pausing for a moment, and you've since reformed and given up your green rage monster days, what was the motivation behind that?

Well Boff, I have a beautiful face and it was extremely selfish of me to deny the ladies of Twitter the chance to longingly gaze upon my pretty face. I hope you understand that I am a giver. I couldn't hide behind that green mask forever. Now the people of Twitter can gaze upon me in my true and final form. I've evolved Boff, it was time to grow up.

N'awwww that's beautiful Smush, and I must admit you do seem much calmer and happier for it. You look years younger infact, so perhaps we could ask then have you developed any particular techniques to help stay calm?

At this Smush seems to perk up a bit after the superhero question. He smiles and becomes more animated explaining how he likes to shout at inanimate objects or things happening on TV. There's nothing more relaxing and enjoyable than shouting at Gregg Wallace's face as he slurps some poor sods cooking creation. "Piss off you smug bald twat!" I shout, it's excellent Boff, you really should try it. I also make a concerted effort to stay away from buses pre 9am. That's just the way it is.

I see, and a little birdy also tells me that you've taken up drawing as a way to help maintain your calm and avoid any unnecessary agitation, so I wanted to ask I know you've taken up drawing super heroes mainly, how's that working out? and have you sorted out the bulge on the webbed heros pants?

Smush admits that he has taken up drawing but still finds it a struggle, there's certain elements of the superhero design that he hasn't quite perfected yet. He then gets up and goes inside to fetch his sketching book to show Boff exactly what he means. Returning momentarily he hands Boff a crude sketch of what looks like a deformed Spiderman(tm) with a massive trouser bulge and enormous head. Errr his head is quite big isn't it? asks Boff, "Yeah, it's quite difficult to fit all the stuff inside", replies Smush, "sorry the cock went a bit wrong as well, that bit is a work in progress" I see, I just thought he was really excited about his day's heroing or something replies Boff.

That's great mate, says Boff, the drawing is really coming along, so then what does the future hold for our dear Smush? and what have you been getting up to since your hero days?

"I am going to run for King and declare war on Luxembourg, purely because Luxembourg scored me 100 points on the Pointless board game last Christmas", Says Smush before laughing, "I'm only kidding Boff, I'm just taking it easy at the moment and seeing where life leads, sometimes its better not to make too many plans"

I see, and no calls from the President then? not even in an honorary fashion? what a bastard, but of cause you still have an adventurous heart, every day is a new thrill, so what have you been up to this week for example?

"Whisky".

Boff sits for a moment and waits for Smush to expand upon his answer, then realising that Smush isn't going to say more he eyes Smush quizzically. Smush responds by pulling a goofy face back, for a full two minutes the two men sit staring at eachother locked in some kind of perculiar face-off. Then Boff snapping back to his senses says, "Whisky" that's your answer is it. "It's what I've been doing Boff" smiles Smush, before they both laugh. well you're quickly becoming a legend of the Twitterverse, what has your twitter journery been like? how would you describe it to a friend?

Again this is another question that brings a big smile to Smush's face, "ahh Boff, Twitter is brilliant, I no longer ever walk alone anymore" Boff and Smush then talk about the firm friends they've made on Twitter and the joy of being woken to a friendly message, or general insult. It can be hard to tell sometimes, but it's all done in the spirit of love my friend.

hahaha, I couldn't have put it better myself, well my dear friend, we're pretty much at the end of our interview, although of cause when the cameras stop rolling we can take a proper look at these drawings of yours, I wanted to ask what advice you have for me? I've done 50 of these buggers now, where do I go from here?

Hmmmm a very good question, well I can't help much with interviews, but I would advise never lick a battery to test its power and always remember that when your'e down or even at your lowest ebb, there will always be me or someone offering you a hand or a backy on my BMX.

n'awww mate, that's a lovely thing to say, thank you, and with that our interview is at a close and Smush and Boff go off to get some paper and pencils to pen a new super hero comic of their own.

 

Tuesday 24 May 2016

The Moatman Interviews -S5- No.5 'Cat Stevens and the wild Finleys' Featuring @WTF_MYOB

The cameras open on a night sky, lit up by the bright lights of downtown St Paul's, Minnesota. The beautiful lights of the city shimmering across the mighty Mississippi in the heart of the American mid-west. At a distance the city seems peaceful and still, the glow of the city lighting up the purples and dark blues of a clear night sky. Then as the cameras move in toward the banks of the river it becomes clear that even at 2am the city is still bustling, cafes and bars with couples and groups of friends mingling and chatting, the smell of food cooking in the air and then as we move along the river the gentle sounds of 'Moonshadow' eminating from an all night cafe. The camera passes a couple of bearded gentlemen sat outside smoking and talking about the result of the latest Minnesota Wild's hockey game.

Inside the cafe, the arched shaped windows and neon gives way to round tables and wicker backed chairs, with paintings depicting musicians and movie stars from the 50s and 60s. Two waitresses topping up the small number of clientele's coffee cups. An old style jukebox up one end of the cafe half hidden away in an alcove. Then panning the room we find a couple up the other end in deep conversation, one a beard gent sipping from a cup of coffee and the other, a laid back lady lounging in her chair and playing with the lava lamp that sits between. Ahhh so this must be Boff Moatman's next celebrity guest. "Oh hello", says Boff, putting down his coffee. "So here we are Stateside again, I caught the red-eye first thing and I still didn't arrive till this afternoon, but it's been totally worth it". "Today's guest is a fasinating mine of information, with her own cultural smarts, and plenty of Sass to boot". Today's guest is our very own Trish Finley. *Trish shoots the camera a grin, and then turns to face Boff*

Thank you for inviting me to come and see you, I must admit, I'm pretty excited. I have plenty of questions I've been dying to ask you, but to help ease us in, why don't you tell us all about your home town?

Well, says Trish, Assuming her best Alice Cooper from Wayne’s World Pose… "Saint Paul is the capital city of Minnesota and was founded near historic Native American settlements as a trading and transportation center. Saint Paul rose to prominence when it was named the capital of the Minnesota Territory in 1849 and lies mostly on the east bank of the Mississippi River.

Minnesota's official nickname is the North Star State, originating from the French motto that appears on MN's state flag and seal: l'étoile du nord (translation: the star of the North), lying to the northern most reaches of the USA and bordering with Canada.

Minnesota and North Dakota have the highest proportion of Scandinavians in the USA, with Norwegian immigration reaching its peak at the end of the 19th century. Historically, the majority of Norwegian Americans live in the upper Midwest, especially in Minnesota, western Wisconsin, northern Iowa, North Dakota, and South Dakota.


People who aren't familiar with MN may have the notion that the Academy-Award−winning film 'Fargo' is an accurate depiction of MN, and to be honest, they aren't missing the mark by much, albeit the film was a purposely condensed and exaggerated version of MN culture. 'Fargo' was written, produced, and directed by brothers Joel and Ethan Coen, natives of Saint Louis Park, MN, a first-ring suburb of Minneapolis.

Minnesota consistently ranks in the top three to five coldest of the United States. Minnesota gets so exceptionally cold in winter that it often places just behind Alaska, with the lowest air temperature (which excludes the windchill) recorded in Minnesota of −51 °C in 1996. The winter (approximately half the year) does mean that Saint Paul is able to host the annual winter carnival a tradition dating to 1886. Ice sculptures a most ;)

Saint Paul is also the birthplace of cartoonist Charles M. Schulz ('Peanuts'), who lived in Merriam Park until 1960. Schulz's cartoon inspired giant decorated Peanuts sculptures around the city in the late 1990s.


Yours truly is an alumna of Saint Paul's Hamline University, MN's first private, liberal-arts university, founded in 1854. I graduated cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa in 1989 with a Bachelor of Arts (B.A.) degree in English, with an emphasis in creative writing, and minor degrees in anthropology and Spanish. Needless to say, I've made a fortune hand-over-fist with such a practical background!


*With that Trish calmly smiles to camera as she subtly slides her mobile phone back into her pocket, and sighs just under her breath 'thanks google'. Then she turns to Boff and says, "now tell me about Wimbledon?" To which Boff shrugs and says it's got a park, a crap football team and Wombles. Oh and it's not London! which makes them both laugh. Right then, time for the probing to begin *oooh lucky me, chuckles Trish*, I know you're a free spirit, happy in your own skin and comfortable with the world, but you've had quite the rollercoaster to get here, so, lets start at the beginning. You're one of eight children. So I wanted to ask what that was like growing up? were you more Waltons, Brady bunch or Adams family?

Yes, as you mentioned, I'm one of eight siblings (four boys and four girls) all born within a span of 10 years. I'm the sixth child, so I have five older siblings, and two younger ones. Frankly, my family isn't comparable to any of your suggested clans. Rather, I consider my entire life—from the time I became a freshly cognizant being to this day—a version of Edward Albee's seminal play 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,' albeit with additional out-of-control, out-of-their-minds cast members and much more abusive behavior. I abhorred the chaos, cacophony, competition, contempt, and cruelty on which the rest of my siblings thrived, and still do. Around the age of four, I made the conscious decision that I was NEVER going to get married nor have kids, thus I'm single and childless, with absofuckinglutely no regrets.

Boff nods, I see, well if you ever get bored I have a house full of small hairy folks who would love to monopolise your time in various ways. What's your opinion on drum and bass? actually forget that; it's not a real question. Lets stick with the topic of family, what about your school days, I know you said that the eight of you fit within 10 years, did you all go to the same school? and how did you get on with your teachers?

During my 'formative years,' my family lived in a small, rural town. It was only when I turned 18 that I moved to 'the big city' to attend university, and I've never looked back. Because my childhood hometown supported only one primary school (kindergarten through sixth grade) and one high school (seventh through twelfth grades), all of my siblings did attend the same schools. When I attended kindergarten, my oldest sibling was in the sixth grade; and when my youngest sibling entered kindergarten, I was in the fourth grade. There was a lot of overlap in school attendance, and in some cases in high school, I actually was in the some of the same classes as my year-older sister. It was hell. It was nigh-on impossible to carve out space for myself at home, and the complication of spending school days brushing elbows with my siblings made the situation all the more untenable.

I was a diligent student who earned top grades in every subject, so my teachers thought I was 'a great kid.' However, my unhappy home life caused a schism in my personality, wherein the good girl next door increasingly frequently went on benders where she became the bad girl from the other side of the tracks.
Agreed, it is important to be independent and have your own identity, I remember when Bertie Phelps was daring all the boys to do home-made tattoos with a bottle of quink and a compass, I'm no sheep I can tell you. That and the compass would have probably hurt, so tell us more about how you managed to carve out your own place in the world?

There was a period during my 30s and 40s when I had to go into self-preservation mode by estranging myself from my siblings for 15 years. They're emotionally draining, and I have a form of PTSD as a result of my year-older sister physically, psychologically, and verbally abusing me from earliest memory to present day. Not until my parents died did I tell a select few that she was terrorizing me for two main reasons: first, no one would've believed me, and second, my sister threatened to kill me if I said anything about the abuse. I finally realized that reacting the way my siblings expected was exactly what they wanted. I learned to rise above their negative, scapegoating, hurtful tactics, and my behavior confounded them nearly to the point of apoplexy. People don't like it when you refuse to bend to their will or stoop to their level.

Vis-à-vis the second part of your question, I wasn't one or the other. In other words, I simultaneously was a wild teen AND the sensible, pulled-together type. I was performing a high-wire balancing act without a net.

It sounds like you've been through real cocktail of emotions and whirlwind of life, I must admit you're far more settled and stoic than I think I would be. Then, I'm sure you're well aware we all have our little quirks, Boff included (refers to self in third person ala Zlatan Ibrahimovic) and when we were talking before I know you said you suffer with cricopharnyngeal achalasia, so perhaps two questions and then we can move on, firstly can you explain to us what it is?

It really doesn't matter whether one fully comprehends the following discourse about CPA, but suffice it to say that this disease is the reason I'm 5'4" and 82 pounds. Swallowing is a complex function that affects the physical and mental health of all human beings. The mechanism of swallowing is a coordinated operation of the mouth; pharynx; and esophagus. Human beings swallow an average of 600 times per day. Under normal circumstances, swallowing is performed without thought or effort. Only the oral phase requires conscious effort.

Once the mass of a substance (including but not limited to food, liquid (including saliva), and pills) is swallowed, passing into the pharynx, involuntary reflexes serve to successfully pass it to the stomach. Dysphagia (from the Greek, translated as "difficulty swallowing") refers to two related, but distinct, clinical problems. In some circumstances, it refers to a patient's awareness of impaired transit of swallowed oral contents. In other situations, it refers more generally to any swallowing disorder. Disorders of swallowing may result from problems with neural control, muscular coordination, inflammation, or the formation or presence of an abnormal growth of tissue (neoplasia).

CPA is a type of dysphagia in which functional obstruction at the level of the upper esophageal sphincter (UES) is due to failure of relaxation (spasming) of the UES (aka cricopharyngeus muscle). The UES is located at the lower level of the larynx (voice box). This muscle is always contracted except at the moment of swallowing, when it relaxes briefly to let food or liquid pass through. The cause of CPA is usually idiopathic (unknown), as it is my case. Typically, individuals with CPA first notice that pills or solid food begin to lodge at the level of the lower part of the larynx. The problem tends to progress inexorably as the years pass. CPA never fully resolves. 

However, I'm extremely fortunate to have a truly amazing nurse practitioner/therapist who prescribed the right medication (clonazepam; trade name Klonopin) for me after my so-called GI specialists abandoned me after my diagnosis. In regard to my condition, clonazepam acts as a muscle relaxant and allows me to lead a relatively CPA-symptomless life. A lasting effect, though, is that CPA affects one's entire GI system, and try as I might, I can't regain the weight (about 30 pounds) I lost during the diagnostic process. A surgical procedure (cricopharyngeal myotomy), performed through the mouth with a laser or, only occasionally, through a neck incision, may be an option, but the efficacy of such a procedure is minimal, and the benefits of the surgery generally last a mere two to three years, after which the surgical patient's CPA symptoms fully return, often to a greater degree than presurgery
Good gracious, it sounds like a constant battle my love, and do you think coping with it was been a part of helping you find your own two feet in the world and being self sufficient?

In a way, I do think it has done so. I spent an inordinate amount of time online trying to self-diagnose my condition. However, it wasn't long before I was sure I hit upon the disease that was causing my symptoms. Frustratingly, my so-called GI specialist wouldn't listen to me when I told her I had CPA, and she refused to perform the gold-standard test to diagnose CPA until she ruled out other conditions that had no bearing on the symptoms with which I was presenting. The unnecessarily protracted diagnostic process ultimately made me an extraordinary and articulate advocate for myself.

Unfortunately my lovely I think that seems to be the way with so many things these days. But then my good old nan always said something worthwhile is worth the fight. So, talking of independence, you're your own business woman, how has it been in terms of working from home and being the master of your own destiny?

I'm in a fortunate position in that I'm financially independent, so I needn't work at all. However, I cherry-pick jobs to prevent myself from atrophying. In particular, the writing, editing, and proofreading I do keeps my mind agile, and because a lot of the work I do is for friends, I'm providing a service (pro bono, of course) that they otherwise wouldn't be able to afford or have the wherewithal to find a resource such as myself to help them.

The house- and pet-sitting part of my business came about in a very straightforward manner: I simply adore animals of every species. Animals are exceedingly intuitive, so they sense that I'm an unconditionally loving person, someone on which they can rely and trust. The truth is that I'd rather spend time with animals than with most humans.

The 'problem-solving' aspect of my venture veritably speaks for itself. However, lately I've been accused of being a source of problems rather than a solution. I shan't elaborate in order to protect the innocent, which in this case, is me.

Well, I'm glad you're fighting the good fight and helping others along the way. So, perhaps now a change of direction, something more mellow, what about music?, I know you're a big fan of Cat Stevens, what is it you love about him?

When I was four years old, my mom brought home Cat Stevens' LP Teaser and the Firecat, which was released in 1971, and in my opinion, is one of the best records ever produced. I listened to that album at least once a day henceforth, until it literally wore out from overuse during my final years of high school. Cat's always been my idol, and I consider him the greatest living singer / songwriter / musician / humanitarian / philanthropist. He's a beautiful person in every sense.

hahahah indeed, I can just imagine you in your office listening to him while beevering away at work and how does a busy business woman like yourself find time for ...ahem... men. More's to the point, what do you make of the other half of the species?

I lived with a guy for eleven years, but I booted his ass to the curb in 2002, having had about ten-and-a-half years more than my fill of a toxic relationship. I'm currently seeing someone, although he's "unavailable" for various reasons, which suits me just fine because I like feeling unfettered, and I'm one of those "odd" individuals who craves solitude.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm an incurably shameless flirt. I'm definitely not the type of person who requires validation from others to boost my self-esteem or gauge my self-worth, but I do enjoy titillating, straightforward, salty conversation and the potential acts that could ensue as a result of the former.

Well if it's salty you wanted, you came to right place, I'm well aquainted with innuendo you know, hard to believe I know, but true. I also know you're close to your adopted sister, so I wanted to ask whether you had any good tales of things the two of you got up to together?

Around 1990, when my mom was working as a community health nurse on a reservation in Shanto, Arizona, my mom "unofficially" adopted my Navajo sister, Shelley, who at age twelve, had been locked out of her family's house because she finally summoned the courage to tell her biological mother that her aunt's boyfriend has been sexually abusing her for years. Shelley lived across the road from my mom, and pretty much right then and there, Shelley became an integral part of our family. She's the most beautiful person inside and out, and she means so much more to me than any of my three biological psychopathic sisters ever has.

Unfortunately, Shel, husband Tim, and kids Alexandria (18), Ethan (16), and Timara (12) live in Spokane, Washington, and I'm in St. Paul, Minnesota, so I don't get to see them often. We write and call as frequently as possible, though. Because I seldom see Shelley in person, and we weren't afforded the opportunity of growing up together, as I'm about 15 years her senior, I don't have any anecdotes of our shenanigans. However, if it suits your needs, Boff, feel free to imagine that we had sleepovers at which babydoll pajamas were donned and giggly pillow fights occurred.

hahahah oh you are a scamp, now then you also had a special relationship with your mum, your namesake, what's your happiest memory of your mum?

I'm a lot like my mom, who passed away in May 2013, in that injustice and bull-headed ignorance really get my blood racing. My mom must've seen something in me when I was born that reminded me of her, other than the fact that I looked the most like her amongst her children, because it wasn't until I, her third daughter, came into the world before she named one of us after her. Her name was Patsy, but she preferred to be called Pat, so she named me Patricia, and gave me the nickname Trish, so people wouldn't call me Pat as well, which could've caused some confusion. She also called me 'Babe.'

As a sidebar, my dad died in June 2015 after being ill for a very long time. Of course his death saddens me, however, he was an abusive, alcoholic, absentee father-figure, rather than a real flesh-and-blood dad, so my mom basically raised eight kids on her own ... nine kids, really, if you take into account the fact that my dad was a selfish man-child who made all our lives more difficult, especially that of my mom.
It's difficult to pinpoint just one happy memory of my mom. She was the most amazing person, the have-it-all woman before such a concept entered the collective social conscience. In addition to raising eight children, she worked full-time as a registered nurse, then earned her master's degree in nursing instruction when her offspring ranged in age from primary school to neonate. When it came to choosing the different types of work she did, she inevitably followed her heart and went where she felt she could make the most impact on others' lives, not to be a Good Samaritan, but simply to make a difference in the world by being present for one person at a time. All the individuals with whom she crossed paths were not likely to forget her, nor she them.

N'awww she sounds like she was a lovely lady, I can see where you get it from now, well with that our interview is almost at a close, and we'll be thrust back out into the night. so perhaps then as a closing question I wanted to ask you what you enjoy about the solitude of the night?

The relative anonymity provided by the dark combined with feeling like you're part of something bigger than yourself, namely the entire universe.

and with that the interview is at a close, they pay the cheque and then Boff and Trish link arms and head off out into the night to see what mischief can be found.





Tuesday 17 May 2016

The Moatman Interviews -S5- No.4 'Good Karma' featuring Neillyfabi

The camera opens on a buddist monastry with hooded monks being called to prayer. the incense wafting over the hallowed hall, as the kneeling monks chant something unintelligible in front of a giant marble statue of Buddha. Then, like something out of the Two Ronnies, two monks appear at the side door, a completely different height and shape than the other monks. Conspicuous by the fact that they appear to be about a foot taller than the other monks milling around and taking their places. That and the fact that one of the two hooded figures has a long white beard like some kind of Gandalf the wizard type.

It's not until the two figures have taken up their prayer matters and removed their hoods that we can see that one is Boff Moatman, and the other bespectled gentleman must be today's guest. "So why are in a Buddist monastrey?" whispers Boff, "shush" whispers the gentleman back, as he closes his eyes and chants something unintelligible but distinctly to the tune of a Bee Gees song. Boff looks around abit bewildered unsure of what's going on. It's then that he spots a particularly small monk with a long nose, who turns and gives him a wink and thumbs up. Hmmm thinks Boff, I wonder how many of these 'monks' are actually Wombles or people off the street.

The gentlemen next to Boff then claps his hands together, rubbing them so, before saying "right, that's that sorted, okay Boff, so how are you doing?", phew! thank god, this interview would have been a bit dull if the whole thing had been silent prayer. So, then, what can I tell you about today's guest, a favourite son of the Black Country, with a passion for the Albion, and real ale breweries, and most likely a monopoly on the letter 'L'. Yes, today, I'm in a Black Country Buddist monastrey with @Neillfabi. "It's not bad is it Boff", says Neill, "I don't care much for the incense, but it's got a nice relaxed atmosphere".  "Indeed", replies Boff, so as a 'pre-question', I'd like to begin by asking why we're here? You said something about a spider and karma on the phone?

Well it’s quite an amusing story to be honest Boff.  Unbeknown to me, Mrs 2H had agreed to look after a friend’s pet tarantula whilst she was on holiday.  I came home from work and the bloody thing was scuttling round the kitchen.  I screamed like a girl and after 15 minutes of frenzied activity, I managed to trap the thing under a bucket and flung it over the back fence in to the monastery grounds.  Mrs 2H wasn’t best pleased and to cut a long story short insisted that I find the bloody thing and get it back. The only way I could gain entry was to pose as a wandering monk and that was 6 months ago.

"ahhhh, I see" says Boff. At this point Neill then gingering reaches into one of his loose hanging sleeves and pulls out a full pint of beer, takes a sip, and then puts it back. Boff just sits agog. "How did you do that?", "Do what?" replies Neill. "How did it not spill?" Neill just shrugs, and does a pretend praying pose. Right, blimey, okay, lets get to some proper questions then, what was it like growing up in the Black Country? Was Slade a big influence on the locals, and did you all have 'that' hair cut?

Growing up in the Black Country was wonderful, almost idyllic. We spent many a happy hour underage drinking M&B mild, frog blowing, apple scrumping, smoking dog ends and playing truant.  Slade certainly had a big influence on our spelling. It wasn’t until I turned 17 that I discovered what cum actually meant!  I preferred the mullet to the Dave Hill haircut.

I see replies Boff, as Neill reaches in again and pulls out the same pint for a bigger slurp this time. Noticing Boff's gaze, Neill apologies and says "I'm sorry Boff, very rude of me". Neill then puts the pint on the floor, before reaching into the other sleeve and producing another full pint, before handing it to Boff. "There you go, Boff". "errr thanks" replies Boff, suspiciously taking a sip, before realising that it is real ale. Hmmm and what about the night life? were you a man about town? off down the Albion, and then off into town to live it up abit?

The nightlife in Wednesbury was a bit limited to be honest, but I did like to glide into the Lounge Bar of the Dog & Lozenge for a sneaky pint of mild and a bag of scratchings as often as possible.  Back then I didn’t get to see Albion play that much, because I had to do my paper round on a Saturday afternoon.

mmmm, this is quite nice says Boff, taking a swig of his pint, is it a local brewery? perhaps we should have a beer related question? So, you're a fan of the real ales? Which one is your favourite? and what's the strangest title/flavour you've come across? I'm quite partial to Bishop's finger myself.

Luckily when I was a choirboy I managed to avoid the bishop’s finger!  I do like good ale. My current tipple of choice is anything from St Peters brewery in Suffolk, the ruby red ale if pressed to choose. The best name for a beer I have ever come across is ‘Old Peculiar’ which just about sums me up.

Oh I love Old Peculiar, says Boff, mmmm beer... *Both Boff and Neill take a swig of beer*....I'd also like to get on to the topic of lurrve. How did you meet your other half? She's Argentine is that right?

I met Mrs 2H playing backgammon on the internet, a complete fluke and to be honest the best fluke of my life.  5 months later we met in person for the first time in Naples (Florida) and we have never looked back.  Communication was never a problem, if you get my drift!  Love at first gammon!

N'awwww, love at first gammon sounds very sweet mate, and what was it like visiting Argentina for the first time? Did you meet the 'in-laws' out there?

My first trip to Argentina was amazing. I loved the place and still do. The people are the best thing and I have my own friends over there now. The family are great and have welcomed me with open arms from day one. I have eaten a lot of cow though, including bits I would never have contemplated before. 

The mind boggles says Boff, before stoping a moment to take another slurp of his pint. This incense is growing on me, it's quite pleasant really, says Boff, and what did the local Argentine people make of a proper Black Country boy?

The Black Country bit confused them. They couldn’t understand why I was white, but with clever use of accent they’ve got it now. There are quite a few new ‘Baggies’ knocking about in Argentina now. I am spreading the love, and in exchange I follow River Plate for my sins.  Vamos River!!

hahahaha, excellent, *Boff takes another swig, before glancing across to notice that Neill has finished his pint, and is reaching into a sleeve to restrieve yet another full pint*...which is when the penny drops. Hold on, has this whole Buddist karma thing been just a sneaky excuse to go out for a quiet pint without being disturbed?

You’ve rumbled me Boff.  Mrs 2H is not a fan of the ale, so I’ve convinced her that ‘Best Bitter’ is the equivalent of alter wine.  Fancy another swift half?

Well, seeing as we're here now, I suppose it would be rude not to really says Boff. Neill then reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out half a pint for Boff. "There you go then", says Neill with a smile. I'm now wondering how many glasses of beer you have concealed about your person sir. So how religious are you really? do you believe in Karma?

To be honest Boff, I’m what you would categorise as a lapsed atheist. But I am a strong believer in Karma, every day I consider all the things in the history of history that had to happen for me to meet Mrs 2H and now I’m a believer.

I see, well, believing in the gammon is as good as anything I've heard to be fair. You do seem quite relaxed and comfortable with the world, what's your secret for a happy life?

Best Bitter and a sense of perspective.  I’m not jealous of what others have got and am just grateful for the life I’ve lived and am determined to make the most of what time I’ve got left.

That does make a lot of sense actually, okay, how about an off topic question next. If you had the choice, which song would you have had at your Christening, Wedding and Funeral, and why?

That’s an interesting question.  For my christening ‘Smells like Teen Spirit’ would be my choice (shame it was 30 years too late), because it’s dramatic and loud.  My wedding would be ‘She’ for very obvious reasons, and for my funeral ‘Once around the World’ by It Bites, purely because it lasts 15 minutes and tells a great story. 

I've heard of at least one of those, so I'm pleased, still though you can't beat a bit of the George Michaels at a wedding. Well our interview is almost at a close and I feel we're only just starting to scratch the surface, so perhaps I should close with two more probing questions... what's been your happiest moment?

It was meeting the love of my life Mrs 2H, for the first time in person.  Nothing compares to that and nothing ever will.

N'awww okay then, and finally what's your fondest memory of West Bromwich Albion?

No contest Boff. It was going to see them with my Grandad when the god that was Jeff Astle graced the Hawthorns pitch.  That will never be beaten in my book. Or was it beating Wolves in the play-off semi-final? Or taking my nephew to his first game when he was 4?  Too many choices Boff.

hahahah I can see you're a true fan mate, with the interview now at a close, there's just the question of sneaking back out unnoticed and taking our empties with us. Another interview next week...

Tuesday 10 May 2016

The Moatman Interviews -S5- No.3 'Adventures in domesticity' Featuring @Loudbasket

The camera opens on a warm and cosy livingroom, where today's guest is making the most of a lazy spring morning reclining on her new couch in a large floppy sun hat and sunglasses. A mug of something hot in one hand and a box of chocolates just out of shot to the left. The whole ensemble is completed with a pair of oversized fluffy bunny rabbit slippers, which she idlely flip-flops back and forward, gently clip-clopping together. Sat in an armchair opposite balancing a notepad on his knee and a mister men mug filled with coffee is our ever present host Boff Moatman.

Hail fellows! so here we are again, this time coming to you from the heart of the West Midlands, here in dear old blightly. Today's guest on the Moatman Interviews is a connoisseur of life, a practical lady who's learned a trick or two along the way to help make the daily grind a little less grindy. A life-hacker with a gleam in her eye and dry word or two to comment on the absurdities of the modern media and consumer lifestyle. So ladies and gentleman I give you none other than Ms Loudbasket, or Hippolyta to her friends. *Hippolyta raises a mug in Boff's general direction before nabbing a hazelnut suprise*, I must say, I love the slippers madam, *Hippolyta lowers her sunglasses* don't diss the slippers mate they were a gift, ahem, no err of cause. So then to help my readers, lets begin with a little getting to know you question, I wanted to ask you if you were a character from a movie, who would you be and why?

Oh, mate. I don't really watch many movies to be honest. Everytime I go to the cinema I fall asleep and it ends up being a really expensive nap. I have seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off about twenty times though, so I think I'd like to be Ferris' girlfriend, Sloane Peterson, so that I could watch and admire as Ferris repeatedly gets away with murder, oooh or maybe Grace, headmaster Ed Rooney's secretary, so I could watch Rooney losing the plot. I'd like watch him losing the plot. Anyway, definitely someone from that film though Boff.

Boff confesses he's also something of an 80s movie fan himself, once being mistaken for Judd Nelson in his Breakfast Club hey-day. Admittedly, it was a poorly lit disco, and it was more the clobber he had on than the fizzog, but Boff still proudly tells people about his mistaken identity incident to this day. Anyway, I digress, now time for some proper questions. I know you had a fun childhood and your family are full of interesting characters, so I wanted to ask what it was like for you being a kid?

Well Boff, there are two answers to this question, depending on my state of mind when I’m asked. I suffered from terrible anxiety as a child (I still do) but no one realised that’s what it was. I’d have chest pains and trouble breathing and it was written off as indigestion or asthma, but I know now it was panic attacks. I was quite lonely and miserable because no one understood. I don’t think I understood, to be honest, but I knew it wasn’t indigestion. On a good day, though, I have some great memories. I had a huge extended family and we spent a lot of time together. Someone always seemed to be having a party at which relatives I didn’t know existed would appear and give us sweets or money.
The adults would have a grand old time, drinking and chatting, and we kids were allowed free to run amok until well after midnight. My dad was a bit of a wag (still is) and was always up to some sort of mischief. He taught us how to draw ‘cracks’ on our black hearth tiles with a white crayon to make Mum think we’d broken them. I still maintain that’s the only use for white crayons. Dad still plays tricks on me now. A few Christmases ago he phoned me and said, “How long can you keep a turkey in the freezer?” and I said, “I think it’s about six months,” and he said, “Well, that’s funny ‘cause I put one in the freezer yesterday and today it’s dead.” I can never be sure if he’s phoning for a chat or to wind me up.

N'awww bless you, I hate the thought of anyone suffering in silence. Mind you, your Dad does sound a right wind up merchant. I do love a good Dad joke now and again, so then, on the same topic of family are there any particularly fond memories of Christmas day? any amusing anecdotes you could share with us?

Christmas was always great fun and we were spoiled rotten. My brother and I would get up to see what Santa had left us and be blown away by how much we’d got. Then, after dinner, Dad would produce some other big present we had no idea about - one year it was a ZX Spectrum, another year we got a VCR, and another year it was cameras. My parents were by no means rich and I think Dad must have had a sideline robbing banks. I remember occasional Christmas disasters, too. Mum was a great cook, but very scatty, and one year she cooked the turkey with the giblets still inside in their plastic bag. The plastic melted and the turkey was inedible but it gave everyone a great laugh.

Ahhhh I do like your Dad, he sounds like a man after my own heart, so what nifty tricks did you learn from your parents which you still use today? perhaps your dad's approach to wrapping presents?

Well, another good Dad story is the one about the time he bought one of my cousins a tie one Christmas and rather than just fold it up and wrap it, he took it out to the garage and spent the best part of an hour cutting out a piece of wood the exact same shape as the tie. He then mounted the tie on the wood before wrapping it. I’ve never done anything so adventurous but I do like to make an effort with wrapping. Hospital corners and proper creases, not like you boys do it.

hahahahah, well I can't really argue with that one, although one year I did wrap a giant teddy bear and got through about three metres of wrapping paper. You couldn't tell what it was mind. *Boff proudly smiles to himself*. Hmmm there was something else I wanted to ask while I was here, what about the Norman Wisdom incident? 


Oh, I’m still sore about this. When I was about eight years old we went to watch a pro-celebrity golf tournament. I was very bored and my dad gave me money to get an ice cream. I was heading towards the ice cream van when what appeared to me to be an old man shouted at me to get out of his way. I didn’t understand why this man’s way was any more important than mine and I was very miffed. My dad told me later that I had been shouted at by none other than Norman Wisdom. I have hated that man ever since (Norman Wisdom, not my dad).

He probably had his washboard on a quick rinse cycle and had to get back, hahaha, ahhh sorry, I couldn't resist, I also wanted to ask you about consumer life-style, so, then shopping! do you have any good strategies for surviving the supermarket rush?

Well Boff, you may have heard of this amazing invention called the internet, *laughs* ahem, no really, my main strategy is to shop online. I actually quite like food shopping but the thought of doing The Big Shop in the actual supermarket gives me the fear, especially at Christmas.

Oh God, don't remind me, I get trolley rage you know, it isn't pretty, mmmm and of cause you learnt your queue strategy from your mum and aunt, care to share any good tips?


Yes, I learned queue-hopping from my mum and Auntie Margaret. I used to go with them when they went to M&S and they would always join the shortest queue but keep an eye out in case other queues started moving more quickly. One particular time they were hopping from queue to queue for several minutes before they realised that neither of them had actually bought anything yet and they were wasting their time.

 
Probably just getting in some valuable queue practice, can't have enough of that, British pastime it is. Now, I tell you what I do enjoy, is a bit of people watching, and the supermarket is the best place to see people in their natural habitat. what about you? Do you people watch in the supermarket? I always seem to get followed by the store weirdo stocking up on a years worth of loo roll? any odd encounters?

I am the store weirdo, stocking up on a year’s worth of loo roll… I don’t think I’ve had any odd encounters as such but I like having a good nosey at what people have got in their basket. That man with the tin of Lynx, the bottle of wine and two microwave lasagnes is not going to impress his date tonight… and what on earth is that woman planning to do with three celeriac?

hahahaha indeed, sounds like something you'd see on a Master Chef challenge. Talking of odd encounters, I hear you've been having a spot of bother with your bins? any cunning plans for bin management?


We went away for a week last year and our next door neighbours must have assumed we’d be gone for a fortnight because when we got back, they’d filled our bins with their rubbish - they obviously thought the bins would be emptied before we got back and we’d never know. They tried to deny it was them but their address was on one of the boxes in the bin so I confronted them with it and they weren’t very happy. Anyway, we recently suspected they were at it again so we took a photo of ourselves holding a sign saying “HI, CRAIG AND SUE. USE YOUR OWN BIN!” and taped it to the insides of our bin lids. I’d have loved to have seen their faces when they opened the bins…
Hahah Brilliant, flipping taking liberties! A person's bin is their own private property. Moving on then, what about your perfect Sunday then? do you have any good tricks around the home to make things a little easier?

Absolutely. Sunday is ironing day and I recommend avoiding this chore by throwing the contents of the ironing basket in the bin. I did actually do this several years ago: the kids were small and very demanding, and I didn’t cope with it very well. My ironing pile was a good three feet high at one point and I took the headstaggers, as my mum would say, and chucked out the lot. Mr Loudbasket does the ironing these days…

Sounds a wise decision to me, I never really understood ironing, the clothes just get creased again don't they. Although a nicely pressed suit is a thing of beauty, so long as I don't have to be the one that does the ironing. The Wombles are quite a dab hand at chores, so I'm pretty lucky really. So then what about future ambitions, any cunning plans for world domination?


I’d settle for dominating my own living room, to be honest… Seriously, though, I’m not massively ambitious but I’m doing a degree at the minute so that I can get a proper job when the children are a bit older. Hopefully then we’ll be able to afford to install high security gates to stop the kids getting back into the house. ;)

hahahah bless them, well that's, almost the end of our interview, so perhaps I could turn the tables for a moment, if you could meet any famous person, dead or alive, who would you meet and what question would you ask them?

There are so many people I’d love to meet but if I could only choose one, I’d like to ask Geoffrey Hayes if Rainbow was a hotbed of debauchery behind the scenes. A part of me rather hopes it was.

ahhh the thought of George and Zippy sharing the same pair of arms over a nice bottle of wine, does put a warm smile on my face, and with that our interview is at a close and it's Boff's turn to put the kettle on. Hippolyta, happily clip-clops her slippers as the sound of tea-spoons in mugs rattle from the kitchen.

Tuesday 3 May 2016

The Moatman Interviews -S5- No.2 "Black Forest delights" ft @VoleQueen

As our cameras open on today's interview they take a little time to adjust to the light settings, before a candle-lit limestone cavern comes into view. Dozens of little tea-lights perched in the cratered walls of the cavern. There in the middle of the room is a strong oak wood table, covered in silver dishes holding a banquest of beautiful food from across the whole of Europe. Now panning to look for our guest we come to a lady sat at one end of the table in a flowing dark magenta dress, a string of pearls in her hair; sat with her elbows on the table gently dipping bourbon biscuits into a chilled glass of red wine and devouring them near whole while intensely gazing across at our interviewer, her eyes not breaking contact for a moment.

At the other end of the table, in his rather splendid evening attire, his beard tucked into his waistcoat is our interviewer Boff.  Hail Fellows! and welcome again to another of our interviews, with one of Twitter's more mysterious and enigmatic characters. I was so pleased she agreed to do the interview I hopped on a plane to Germany before the Wombles had even got out of bed. To be fair all the spring cleaning had worn them out, so today I'm flying solo, literally. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am very pleased to present to you our darling Vole Queen. "Oh Boffy", exclaims the queen, "Don't sit all the way down there, come and sit a bit closer" she says patting an embroidered chair next to her own. Boff moves up just in time to receive an incoming bourbon freshly dipped in burgundy.

"mmmm, I do love Bourbons", says Boff, "I know you do, that's why I got them in especially", winks the Queen, "so come on then Boff, what questions have you got for me? don't hold back, ask anything, well, almost anything, a girl's got to have some mysteries you know". Indeed agrees, Boff, ferreting for a small piece of folded paper in his jacket, so then, ahem *clears throat* I wanted to begin, by asking you about your accession to the throne of becoming Queen of the Voles, was it a smooth journey or have there been a few bumps?

Gosh! It was a blood-soaked, whisker torn, fur ripped bash. Hold on! Is this a metaphor for my upbringing because if it was then... well, it definitely applies to that as well. I always thought I would do very well in prison because of the boarding experience. Whatever they say about public school, it sets you up bloody well for incarceration. I'd be 'Big Voley' of Block C in no time, brushing the new girl's hair, piercing ears, smuggling in illicit goods, getting snogged by Dirty Jane Dorey. Sorry, that was school again...

The Vole Queen politely dabs a nap-kin at the corners of her mouth, while Boff just sits there agog. "Dirty Jane Dorey??" Boff says in bewilderment. "Oh you are sweet aren't you Boff" says the Vole Queen gently tweaking his nose. "I thought it was your persona on Twitter, but you are actually quite bashful aren't you? Marvellous" says the Vole Queen as she pours another glass of Burgundy, "so what else do you have for me?" ahem, yes, of cause you're not opposed to a bit of skullduggery yourself, have you dug any good skulls lately?

I've bedded a few old men in my time. Hold on, this is a metaphor again for sex isn't it. Boffers, it is all about sex and Bourbons for you isn't it? Well, how about this one then. George V in Paris at age 15 waking up in a corset with my passport on the reproduced sideboard (awfully shoddy in places that utter dive) and a card from old Louis, Duke of Anjou with something naughty on it. Now there's a Bourbon story for you.

"I see", says Boff, still wide-eyed. "You've met a few famous faces then, can I just check you haven't got Shakespear's skull have you?" to which the Vole Queen lets out a screech of laughter, before cupping Boff's face, oh you are a silly boy. "Okay, so lets take a step back then", says Boff, "what about when you were the Vole Princess, did you have a fun upbringing?"

I refer you to Question one Mr Moatman. Madness ran rife but a good single malt was always available, and that's very important. Voles are quite partial to Argberg and breakfast, you can't fault a Dalwhinnie. I had too much freedom and ran amok all over Somerset, Dorset, Hampshire, and naturally London or cause, and the folks spent a lot of time in Grand Cayman, a particularly hedonistic island. Silver sands beach saw a lot of vole action I can tell you.

Sounds like you were a little tearaway, I can imagine being the child of royalty it must have been a bit like that, and what about the local boys, did they try and win your hand in matrimony? did you have a chaperone to see them off?

I almost married a Lord, but saw sense at the last minute. He was a raging alcoholic and I didn't fancy him at all. Actually, we met at the Priory in one of Eric Clapton's counselling groups where the diminutive Clapton taught me to primal scream in the gorse bushes, outside the cleaner's portakabin.

"Ah, I bet he thought you were 'wonderful tonight', ahem", says Boff. To which the Vole Queen shoots Boff a quizzical look. "Don't be fatuous Boff it's not becoming of you darling", she replies before popping another Bourbon into Boff's whiskered face. mmmm yum! I also wanted to ask you how you came to end up in Bavaria, writing your memoirs while running a silver smithery on the side?

Well, marrying for love and spending your inheritance in a bit of a rush means that the uppers are never far away from the scuppers. The bailiffs are not in the least bit interested in the distressed gentry Boff, however pretty; and they are so touchy! That case of Bandol Rose was NOT a bribe. Dearest Husband does something awfully tame in Bavaria. My silversmithing days are on hold because everything to do with it is tiresomely toxic, sharp and deadly. Not the best things to have around small baba's.

Boff concurs, yes safety first, very wise. "mmmm yes, there is even an acidic bath disarmingly labeled 'pickle'. You don't want that with your cold Sunday leftovers" notes the Vole Queen as she begins peeling some exotic looking fruit. "I also wanted to ask what's Bavaria like? aside from being full of Bavarians?"

It's jolly pretty, and I san see the Alps from my writing room. On a fine day, if I stand on one leg, and squint attractively around a bolster thingy. They are very big on meat in Bavaria. I've been offered so many sausages it has become quite the norm. Lots of Bayern Munich footie players with too much money and not enough delicacy. We are in the countryside, which makes me happy. Endless stretches of green and woods galore. Full of werewolves and Krampus lives just over but one. Lycanthropes have particularly good comic timing actually.

The very mention of werewolves sets Boff off. He starts regaling the Vole Queen about his knowledge of Hammer Horror and how all werewolves should look like Oliver Reed, not pretty boy teen boyband members. They all drink at the same pub in the Eastend of London he says, tapping his nose. "Oh I quite agree" says the Vole Queen, "I do like a hirsute gent, provided he's well groomed. It's not the dark ages" she says, "no need for tangles and knots in this day and age". Indeed, and what have the locals made of you? have you got into any scrapes while navigating your way around German high society?

Yes, well. I'm known as the English Madam, and if this was Georgian London it would be an accurate moniker, but those days are sadly far behind me. The villagers are good sports and we converse with hand gestures, lots of bright smiles and my utterly broken German. One of my favourite things is to shout 'Schmetterling' and 'verkauf, verkauf', really loudly as I drive through the village. Such a fun language Boff.

Hahaha I can imagine that well, and of cause you also have a Vole Prince and Princess of your very own, how's motherhood been treating you and how have you adjusted to taking a small person on your adventures?

I never thought I would any good at motherhood, but producing two who are remarkably gorgeous, it's the best thing I've ever done. They both have too many names but you have to be prepared for anything in life. So if Georgiana (Georgie) marries to the side and hefts a title about, then that's fine. If she becomes a vegan who loves the ladies, she can be Georgie and Edward is a Ted so, he could easily be an American politician or a series of lectures. The world is his cyber crab.

"Well, it is important to keep all your options open, so I quite agree, and Georgie is very cute to be fair", says Boff. "At least I would say she clearly takes after her mother". "Oh Boff" says the Vole Queen, "I take it all back, you're not the least bit bashful, you're an old smoothy charmer. Good, I much prefer the latter, it means we can have a good giggle". The Vole Queen tops up Boff's glass, "now, more questions or are we about done?" "Almost" replies Boff, so I wanted to ask what tricks of the trade you will be teaching the younglings to help them battle their way through this high society?

Well, obviously the elephant trick, you know with the turned out trouser pockets and Albert extending to the floor. Once I was at a Burns Night given by the Royal Engineers. On the top table seated next to a randy Major, whose terrifying wife glared at me all night and then pointedly refused 'a little tart' because she'd had enough of tarts already that night. Blisteringly unfair it was Boff! anyway, the Major began to let off steam to the extent that he welcomed Piper and Haggis, in a most elephantine way. It escalated very quickly after that.

"Blimey!, I don't know about 'the elephant', but I did learn the trick with the 'three cups' at an early age and it's stood me in good stead down the years. I'll show you it later on" says Boff. I also wanted to ask what future plans you have? As an accomplished pensmith and global navigator, there must be plans you have for us all yet?

I'm not awfully good at being without funds, I'm terrible with money I'm afraid. Ever hopeful that the three book deal will appear on the wings of a dove and then, sweetly, Harvery Fiercestein, rings and cajoles me with a huge film offer and lots of net and a huge gross. I have this Scorpio ascendant, which makes me terribly vengeful but only on the inside. So I plot lots of dreadful things and only write about them. I had this idea to recruit lots of urchins and train them to be pickpockets and thieves, operating out of the Stews in East London. I've heard a chap called Fagin was pretty good at it and I've put out feelers but complete radio silence thus far.

I'm terribly sorry to hear that. I personally blame the invention of modern medicine for the decline in Dickensian street urchins, but I'm sure if you were to offer them a zero hours contract with the false hope of employment at the end of it, you may get a few eager applicants. Least, that's what I would try. Perhaps we can close our interview then by asking you to tell us something unexpected about yourself which we didn't know?

At age 15 I was invited by the Third (German and youngest) mistress of Sheik Azmi Azzam to accompany her to Berlin on his jet. There I stayed with some adorable nudists called Brust in West Berlin before that ghastly wall came down. They both worked and I was left to my own devices much of the time, trying to work out German TV that was, even more, bemusing then and wrestling with Black Bread and schnapps.

The phone trills one afternoon and the most delightful Englishman is on the other end. We get talking as you do and he invites me on a tour of East Berlin, which sounded jolly exciting. He flashed his 'something' at Checkpoint Charlie and in we went. Fascinating, like driving into the past, but the best thing was being trailed by these two thugs in raincoats and cheap trilbys, JUST like the secret polic in Tintin books. I was a bit giddy and kept asking if they knew Captain Haddock but to no avail. I sneaked a look at this Oxford-educated Johnnie's passport, who spoke seven languages, and noted he had written down his profession as 'Travelling salesman'. I do believe I had unwittingly taken on a tour of East Berlin by one of our spooks.

Having saved her bombshell answer for the very end of the interview, the Vole Queen calmly reaching across Boff to pick up a plate with a large round cake sitting on it. She places it on the table between them and then pauses for a moment, her eyes flicking between Boff and the plate, before letting out a sigh, "Oh Boff, are you going to gateau me or not?" Says the Vole Queen thrusting a silver spoon into Boff's hand and again gesturing at the cake, with that our interview is at a close. The Vole Queen enjoys a mouthful of cake before giving a nod to an attendant that's okay for the rest of the Vole family to join the feast.