Charles Saatchi says he was removing a bit of snot from Nigella Lawson’s nose
way without so much as a syllable passing his lips.
Rest assured, I have not heard the last of this.
MY dear friend Alan Crawford, l ate of this parish, whose l eisurely i ntroduction to a news story was once likened to the prologue of a Sir Walter Scott novel, has coauthored ( with Tony Czuczka) a book about Angela Merkel called – wait for it – Angela Merkel. It is full of revelations.
For example, when Frau Merkel was nine she stood for three-quarters of an hour on a high diving board before summoning up the courage to jump, “an image cited repeatedly,” Herr Crawford drolly remreminds us, “in media reports on Merkel’s handling of the debt criscrisis.”
TThen, when she was 15, she wenwent on a trip to Russia, returninging home with “her first Beatles albualbum”, Yellow Submarine, whose songs included All You Need Is s oL Love.
How this may have affected her ppolitical philosophy Herr Crawfoford neglects to speculate.
THE S QA has been accused of dumbing down the Higher maths exam, leading one online chunterer in The Herald to boast that these days his dog could pass it with flying colours.
Maybe it could. Interestingly, where previously folk used to boast of their children’s talents they now bang on in similar vein about their family pets.
I’m sure the dogs are intelligent. Why otherwise would their owners talk to them as if conversing with Einstein?
Just yesterday I overheard one woman say to her spaniel, “What do you think, the library or Semichem?”
To its credit, the spaniel did not deign to reply. But back to maths. When I was a lad I couldn’t make head nor tail of them or it.
My teacher was Mr Brown, whose portfolio included maths and religious studies.
I was so bad at both I found it impossible to distinguish one from the other.
Having said that, I got a maths O Level, at which point I quit when I was ahead.
ANENT – och aye! – Charles Saatchi and Ni g e l l a Lawson, I confess I am confused. You may recall that he was snapped grabbing her by the throat, initially, he insisted, because he was trying to emphasise a point in an argument they were having over their children’s future.
What this exactly entailed I have no clue. It’s possible that he wanted the weans to go to the local comprehensive while she was insisting that they went to the Von Trapp finishing school in the Bernese Oberland.
Now, one learns, the removal men have been seen at their Chelsea hovel packing her giant Magimix into a van.
As yet, Ms Nigella has said nothing about the alleged throttling. Mr Saatchi, however, is now insisting that it was all a “playful tiff ”. All he was attempting to do, he says, is remove a bit of snot from her nose, adding: “I was trying to fish it out.” Eneuch! Eneuch! Eneuch!