Monday, 16 March, 2009

Woken up by knock on the door. It was Bryan . “Is that your full morning suit?” he asked, indicating the terrible heap of rags hanging over the banisters. One kept one’s countenance. I feel I need to cleanse myself eighteen times a minute. O, why do I keep disgracing myself so deplorably? Carry on like this & I’ll be little better than the other Euston wastrels. On foot to Stolid Sound Studios in Dean Street to do this voiceover for Andrex. To my delight dear old Mollie Sugden was there too. We reflected on this terrible Jade Rooney-Myerson anti-culture of today. Without talent and means it’s a one way trip to the ill-lit skip & no Socialist Democratisation of the Media will reverse that. The agonising grind of my coffee grinder reminds me that I must invest in a Gaggia machine. Traditional. That febrile froth, cream arising from the salt of the earth; only needs waistcoats & I’ll provide me own sauce.