This morning Sarah Kennedy told us how she’d had to miss David Suchet and a wonderful cast perform in, perform in, perform in the Haymarket Theatre, because she had a case of the gripes. I don’t see why that was a problem: if she had a case of the gripes surely she could hand them round when the carton went up on the hice. Later on, after someone had presumably given her a thump on the control panel, she remembered that it was The Last Confession that she wasn’t able to see at the Haymarket with that lovely David S, er [bonk] Suchet. Nearly there, Sarah!
Meanwhile, Sir Torry is declaring a war on people who add an “h” to the pronunciation of “H”, but for pragmatic reasons has yet to tackle those that put a “b” on the pronunciation of “B” or a “t” on “T”. There’s also a campaign against people who say “I was sat” because apparently “I was sitting” is more correct. I’m not so sure. It only takes me a few seconds to perform the continuous act of sitting, by the end of which I’m no longer sitting, but have nonetheless sat myself down, and consider myself to be sat. But then I’m hardly Kingsley Amis: who is?
No news yet on the Wake Up Campaign against people who roll the “r” in the word “drink,” but then: when they came for my dialect I said nothing, because I don’t have a dialect; dey don’t be havin’ dem fancy furrn cars out in Limrick, begob.