Wednesday, August 17, 2005


So sorry to hear about Madonna's little accident yesterday... apparently, she fell from her horse while trotting around the grounds of her Wiltshire Bunker. It does appear that her fall roughly coincided with Circle Brophy and myself passing by on the Berry Hammersmiff-to-West-Country Stagecoach (following our brief-but-hectic bureaucratic-assault on the Indonesian Embassy)...I like to think that the passing of our bus may have acted as some sort of random chaotic-attractor...for example, its vibrations may have startled a mouse which was spotted by a buzzard whose change of direction caused some starlings to take flight which in turn may have distracted her horse which then stumbled, etc. These things happen. Heh.

I mean, if we'd actually thought about it then Circ and I would have definitely launched some sort of missile-like malignant kidney-rupturing psychic hex-punch towards Chez Madge as we passed, but we were too busy talking about Cervantes (the author, not the beer!) and ooohing and ahhhhing at the shapes of clouds, the rolling Wiltshire landscape, etc.

When I read that Madonna had wept in the ambulance, my wife Chris unkindly suggested that this wasn't caused by the pain of a broken collar-bone, but by the thought that the release of her new LP, or rehersals for the World Tour might be delayed. Apparently, she had to be cut out of her tweeds using a pair of gardening-shears (Madonna, not Chris)...medical treatment was complicated by the fact that she had a flat-cap stuck up her arse, etc, etc....What terrible things to say, Chris! Shame on you, girl! As usual, I shall remain wistfully neutral on this topic...(oh, alright then, you twisted my arm)...

Apart from that fact that Madge will never amount to anything more than an Ex-Pat Rustic-Chav, because everyone knows that real aristos don't ever show emotion in front of the hired-help.

I still like "Borderline" though.