Eggheads? Big­heads? You de­cide, I’m just bit­ter

Harefield Gazette - - OPINION -

I’M NOT great at quizzes. Un­for­tu­nately the depart­ment in my brain that should have been amass­ing gen­eral knowl­edge from birth, mal­func­tioned a long time ago. But when it comes to ques­tions on the 12 days of Christ­mas I can be quite use­ful. I even once helped a team win a tie break with my su­per-duper su­pe­rior knowl­edge (ha) when we were asked to list them all.

Many of you clever quizzers who can call up cap­i­tal cities, Amer­i­can states, oceans, birds, com­posers, dates or the com­po­nent parts of a Welsh rarebit at the drop of your very big hats, like Mr F, are very an­noy­ing.

Eggheads? Big­heads? You de­cide. I’m just bit­ter.

My happy mem­ory – and yes, how sad that I can still cling to such a fee­ble tri­umph – came back to me when I read re­cent sto­ries of (al­legedly) a cer­tain or­ange bra wear­ing, pros­ti­tute-en­ter­tain­ing mem­ber of the up­per cham­ber?

I thought, to­tally in­ap­pro­pri­ately, now I know why the Ten Lords were a-Leap­ing.

I was then puz­zled as to why, if they were gen­uine pros­ti­tutes who filmed him, they agreed to ex­pose a client in this way? Not good for fu­ture busi­ness I would have thought. Then I won­dered whether it was wrong to in­vade his pri­vacy. It was his own flat, cour­tesy of his job, af­ter all.

Ob­vi­ously, if I were his wife, I would look at that dif­fer­ently, but do the rest of us re­ally need to know he didn’t use his time more use­fully? Play­ing Soli­taire or watch­ing News­night maybe, or do­ing some­thing cre­ative with cran­ber­ries or quinoa rather than crack co­caine? Then I lost all sym­pa­thy when he boasted that his ex­penses, paid for ap­pear­ing in the House, fur­nished these ex­tracur­ric­u­lar ac­tiv­i­ties.

He seemed to think it was his right to buy ex­pen­sive drugs and fund sex ses­sions, which is cer­tainly not the way to get tax-pay­ers, in­clud­ing me, de­fend­ing pri­vacy rights.

HOW sad to hear about Ce­cil the lion who sur­vived for 13 years only to be killed for 50,000 dol­lars by a stupid rich hunter who felled him for ‘sport’.

Jan­gles, our daugh­ter’s cat, who is lodg­ing with us while she hol­i­days abroad, has just pre­sented us with his first mouse.

I couldn’t help think it was a pity the man who paid to slaugh­ter the beau­ti­ful crea­ture with a bow and arrow, would not suf­fer a sim­i­lar fate.

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