Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Tuesday, December 16, 2003

One True Accent

This Saturday forged a rare occasion for your ruler, for I managed to catch some of the gormless Pop Idol for the first time in my life. It is oddly compelling, non? I even had to tune back in for the results to find that the vivacious Sam had been kicked out. Just how?

And, to add insult, someone informs me that the dead-eyed talent vacuum who's not Michelle comes from my neck of the woods. Ah. I thought his accent grated.

You see, I never really had this notorious accent, much to my surprise. It is probably due to never really going outside to be sociable, instead finding solace in television and the Doctor Who Knitting Book. Thus my accent is the fine, clipped English of a BBC newsreader of Thatcher's Eighties - i.e. not the semi-sexy rolling welsh of the new millennium. Ah, but listen closely to me, and you may be able to hear a fabulous exotic twang of Moira Stewart on my lower vowels.

Anyway. Back to this Mark. Further digging suggests that he's from Darlaston, near Walsall, a larger town some eight miles from my tiny burg. One of my learned friends suggested that he may have even gone to my school; we from that area just inclined to pick the biggest township that people down here have heard of, and that just tends to be 'Birmingham'. Walsall is some way down the pecking order of recognition, and there is a whole world of difference between it and Brownhills. Walsall has an art gallery and everything.

Well. Brownhills briefly had an art gallery too. It were called Athena.

Just imagine, though if he had gone to my school. He would have been a wide-eyed first year fag to my mature sixth former. A faithful, yet dead-eyed servant to laugh at my bonne mots.

What do you mean? There were plenty of fags at Brownhills Comp, as I have explained earlier. "One in four men has had or will have a homosexual experience in their life," said our sex education teacher.

"It'll be one in three when Binding learns to drive," shouted someone at the back.

Hmm. And for your information, one can drive. It's apparently terrifying to watch.

I just say that you can't get the full experience unless you're wearing a leopard-skin headscarf.

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