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

Friday, September 24, 2004

Art House

A package turned up last night with a handwritten note from Cher:

'Found these quarantined in the Gay Council post room. I'm sending them on now all that Gay Card nonsense has been sorted.

'Love, Cher.
'PS - Found you can Fed-Ex Lorraine Kelly for £5.38. It's apparently how she gets about.'

Larks! Well, anyway, inside was several, er, 'art films' that I'd ordered a couple of weeks back. Out of pure scientific interest, I put it on while I was doing my knitting - merely as background, you understand - when fifteen minutes in, I noticed that one of the main 'actors' had been recast. Now, one of my favourite moments in the soap opera annals is when they re-cast a character, like blonde bubble-perm Beverly from Neighbours who went away for several weeks at a medical conference in Perth, before coming back with dark hair, two stone heavier, and a face like a bag of hammers.

Well, I couldn't believe it. The film was skipped back, and scrutinised over my half-rims. Indeed, they'd replaced the actor not just mid-film, but mid-scene! One minute there was one gentleman being drilled like masonry, and the next, the camera angle changed and it was a completely different fellow being back-scuttled! I'm desperate to know what happened! Was there an on-set accident? Did he slip? Or did he just remember he'd got a dinner party that evening, and he'd completely forgot the oregano for the lamb? And how did they manage to get a replacement so quickly? Do porn stars have understudies?! Enquiring minds need to know!

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