Oh Auntie,
I do worry about you. Such a gassy, long-winded response! All those passive-aggressive missives, mean-spirited digs, lofty self-delusions and misguided attempts at humor. Does it not exhaust you to try so very hard? Aren't you tired? Do you not find yourself leaning against the wall, sweaty, fat, heaving and wheezing?
I would like to think that a lady of your advanced age would have learned a bit more about social decorum and restraint. These things are especially important when we find ourselves wretchedly seething with jealousy and bitterness over the youth, glamour and slimness of others. It is unbecoming to lash out at better people in such an embarrassingly revealing manner.
Perhaps it is this very kind of wreckless. sloppy behaviour which has led to your exclusion from a certain social event in town this season??? Then again, perhaps it is the terrifyingly mad shrieking and screeching that consistently emanates from your little cottage that has spooked the locals? Or might it be the defiant new lady-gang you have recently formed -- with whom you traipse about town like a lewd and lascivious trio of sexual degenerates? Word does travel, my dear!
Whatever the case may be, I reach across the pond to you with love, Auntie, because I recognize the signs of your ongoing decline and I worry. But, wish as you might, you cannot live my gorgeous life, and I certainly want nothing to do with yours. And so, I send you these words of love instead of visiting, which would simply be too tedious for me.
Please, do remember who you are, and stop trying to be someone else. Just waddle back over to the couch with your bag(s) of crisps, lower your shocking physique onto it, lean back and enjoy the latest episode of "I'd Do Anything."
You like that, now, don't you? See? Isn't that nice?
Sssshhhhhhhh.
A
Monday 1 November 2010
Tuesday 26 October 2010
Hollow attacks on Her sacred land
Alice, Alice, Alice
how transparent you are my diminutive poppet.
For the last year or so Auntie has - admittedly when she has had nothing better to do - dropped various hints and nudges in Alice's direction to remind her that the Blog has been ignored. I have also gone so far as to (horror!) send you a direct communication (outside of this forum) by electronic-mail, I believe they call it.
All have been rudely, and predictably, ignored!
This time Auntie deployed a slightly different strategy and alluded to the fact that the wit and wisdom emanating from (one half of) the contributors to this collective correspondence was attracting "fans" or people who actually enjoyed consuming our vitriol. Low and behold she responds back in a matter of hours!
You are so hungry for adoration aren't you my dear unloved waif?
No fear, I shall continue to conjure up imaginary characters that enjoy your non-sequitor ramblings and might even post the odd "comment" pretending to be one of the six people who bought your last coffee table coaster... sorry, book.
As for your reflections on Auntie's geographic status and future plans, let's attempt to respond shall we?
In the short - but oh so fabulous - time you have known your big Lady role model, She has lived on many continents and dined in the finest establishments. It's what She does my dear. She doesn't "take root" as you do (but unfortunately your hair does not)
She is constantly in need of stimulation; bright lights; interesting people; and constantly evolving horizons. Of course every place that she graces with her sparkle and lavender dust is the better for it; and mediocre little people like you are left the better for knowing Her) but She simply cannot "stand still" my sweet.
We only have one life. Now we know Auntie has lived enough lives for an entire Gloucestershire estate, but that doesn't mean She is going to slow down any time soon.
Your tragic attempts to disparage her beloved Fabulous-fornia simply will not do. I know rejection hurts my dear, but as I said to you at every tea and cakes soiree we enjoyed two blocks from the ocean front all those years ago, some people are simply not "A List" enough.
When Auntie was enjoying back-stage access to the beautiful people, Alice was trudging around East LA with a Kodak instamatic. When Auntie was cascading along the PCH in her 1960 Oldsmobile Cutlass F85, Alice was pouring screen wash into her Nissan Sentra...
Different worlds my dear. You will never understand how thin the air (like your hair) is up here on Auntie's cloud. And for every one of your hollow attacks on the sacred land of Lavender-fornia, there are a multitude of positive people and delicious invites beckoning Her back.
I must get back to my busy day... I have a fabulous luncheon with some important entertainment people in the big city - and I have still to work the moulding clay into my ever vibrant bouffant
toodles my sweet....
Auntie
how transparent you are my diminutive poppet.
For the last year or so Auntie has - admittedly when she has had nothing better to do - dropped various hints and nudges in Alice's direction to remind her that the Blog has been ignored. I have also gone so far as to (horror!) send you a direct communication (outside of this forum) by electronic-mail, I believe they call it.
All have been rudely, and predictably, ignored!
This time Auntie deployed a slightly different strategy and alluded to the fact that the wit and wisdom emanating from (one half of) the contributors to this collective correspondence was attracting "fans" or people who actually enjoyed consuming our vitriol. Low and behold she responds back in a matter of hours!
You are so hungry for adoration aren't you my dear unloved waif?
No fear, I shall continue to conjure up imaginary characters that enjoy your non-sequitor ramblings and might even post the odd "comment" pretending to be one of the six people who bought your last coffee table coaster... sorry, book.
As for your reflections on Auntie's geographic status and future plans, let's attempt to respond shall we?
In the short - but oh so fabulous - time you have known your big Lady role model, She has lived on many continents and dined in the finest establishments. It's what She does my dear. She doesn't "take root" as you do (but unfortunately your hair does not)
She is constantly in need of stimulation; bright lights; interesting people; and constantly evolving horizons. Of course every place that she graces with her sparkle and lavender dust is the better for it; and mediocre little people like you are left the better for knowing Her) but She simply cannot "stand still" my sweet.
We only have one life. Now we know Auntie has lived enough lives for an entire Gloucestershire estate, but that doesn't mean She is going to slow down any time soon.
Your tragic attempts to disparage her beloved Fabulous-fornia simply will not do. I know rejection hurts my dear, but as I said to you at every tea and cakes soiree we enjoyed two blocks from the ocean front all those years ago, some people are simply not "A List" enough.
When Auntie was enjoying back-stage access to the beautiful people, Alice was trudging around East LA with a Kodak instamatic. When Auntie was cascading along the PCH in her 1960 Oldsmobile Cutlass F85, Alice was pouring screen wash into her Nissan Sentra...
Different worlds my dear. You will never understand how thin the air (like your hair) is up here on Auntie's cloud. And for every one of your hollow attacks on the sacred land of Lavender-fornia, there are a multitude of positive people and delicious invites beckoning Her back.
I must get back to my busy day... I have a fabulous luncheon with some important entertainment people in the big city - and I have still to work the moulding clay into my ever vibrant bouffant
toodles my sweet....
Auntie
Wednesday 20 October 2010
The Rumblings of Madness
Dearest Auntie,
It has been some time since we last communicated, and I must say it has been a lovely respite indeed. I am, however, pleased to see that you are finally realizing the vast potential of this endeavor, and I trust that you will, at the very least, attempt to regularly exercise those fat, sausage fingers of yours on the keyboard. Our audience demands it, as you so snottily pointed out in your last posting.
Now, at the very outset, I must address the rumblings of madness that have been emanating from your little corner of the Cotswolds. As an avid follower of your long-suffering companion's blog, I have learned that you have been posturing and squawking about a possible return to the God-forsaken, concrete shit-pit of Los Angeles. I'm quite sure that in your addled mind, you harbour false recollections and cliched fantasies about golden sunsets, balmy breezes and celebrity cocktail parties in the hills. Such foolery will NOT be tolerated.
The LA that you are imagining does not exist, it never did, and your whining and pining are most tiresome. No one needs to see Auntie sitting in a Hyundai on the 405, clad in some gaudy caftan, trying to suppress her road rage. It's an ugly picture and it's never going to happen, so just stop. You are exactly where you need to be. Or, to be more precise, you are exactly where I need you to be.
I will only ever visit you in England. And I wish to make it perfectly clear that you are expressly forbidden from EVER visiting me in New York. And please spare me the rants about how you don't want me to visit you and brighten up your dusty, grey, little life. Your desperation to reconnect is embarrassingly obvious.
So, drink in these words, Auntie, and revel in my gracious acknowlegment of your sad self.
Toodles!
Alice
It has been some time since we last communicated, and I must say it has been a lovely respite indeed. I am, however, pleased to see that you are finally realizing the vast potential of this endeavor, and I trust that you will, at the very least, attempt to regularly exercise those fat, sausage fingers of yours on the keyboard. Our audience demands it, as you so snottily pointed out in your last posting.
Now, at the very outset, I must address the rumblings of madness that have been emanating from your little corner of the Cotswolds. As an avid follower of your long-suffering companion's blog, I have learned that you have been posturing and squawking about a possible return to the God-forsaken, concrete shit-pit of Los Angeles. I'm quite sure that in your addled mind, you harbour false recollections and cliched fantasies about golden sunsets, balmy breezes and celebrity cocktail parties in the hills. Such foolery will NOT be tolerated.
The LA that you are imagining does not exist, it never did, and your whining and pining are most tiresome. No one needs to see Auntie sitting in a Hyundai on the 405, clad in some gaudy caftan, trying to suppress her road rage. It's an ugly picture and it's never going to happen, so just stop. You are exactly where you need to be. Or, to be more precise, you are exactly where I need you to be.
I will only ever visit you in England. And I wish to make it perfectly clear that you are expressly forbidden from EVER visiting me in New York. And please spare me the rants about how you don't want me to visit you and brighten up your dusty, grey, little life. Your desperation to reconnect is embarrassingly obvious.
So, drink in these words, Auntie, and revel in my gracious acknowlegment of your sad self.
Toodles!
Alice
Tuesday 19 October 2010
"There once was a time in this business when Alice had the eyes of the whole world!"
Alice,
you have neglected the blog for far too long, and it simply must stop!
Pretending you have a television career is really a sad excuse that has worn all too thin (like your hair)
Auntie's 'Pied Piper of Poshtershire' influence continues to ensnare more adoring followers... the latest of which is a funny little soul who drives fast cars (who I believe you met during your last alcoholic dry-out visit?)
Anyway, said sycophant commented on how fabulous our blog is/was (let's face it, all of the creativity flowed from Auntie)
We have adoring fans dear and we must respond... stop waiting for the phone to ring from that "agent" you thought you had...
The TV landscape has moved on and is looking for fresher (faced?) talent...
As Norma so eloquently put it "You *are* big Alice. It's the *TV* that got small."
Come back to Auntie's supportive, tanned and very toned arms
xxxx
Twisted
you have neglected the blog for far too long, and it simply must stop!
Pretending you have a television career is really a sad excuse that has worn all too thin (like your hair)
Auntie's 'Pied Piper of Poshtershire' influence continues to ensnare more adoring followers... the latest of which is a funny little soul who drives fast cars (who I believe you met during your last alcoholic dry-out visit?)
Anyway, said sycophant commented on how fabulous our blog is/was (let's face it, all of the creativity flowed from Auntie)
We have adoring fans dear and we must respond... stop waiting for the phone to ring from that "agent" you thought you had...
The TV landscape has moved on and is looking for fresher (faced?) talent...
As Norma so eloquently put it "You *are* big Alice. It's the *TV* that got small."
Come back to Auntie's supportive, tanned and very toned arms
xxxx
Twisted
Sunday 21 June 2009
Alice the Extra
Oh I remember now...
(being so fabulous and busy as Auntie is, the insignificant cobwebs that are the details of peripheral acquaintances' decidedly less fabulous lives get easily brushed off and forgotten)
... in a previous non sequitor ramble of yours I recall you mumbling something about having a 'walk on part' on some provincial Community TV channel infomercial. Is that right dear?
I am guessing it was a public service announcement about the dangers of drug use or poor diets in the concrete recesses that often excuse themselves as your 'neighbourhood'
I hope it was effective Alice and you no longer find syringes poking through your letterbox on your return from the late shift at Ralphs
And how is the damp, underwhelming love life Alice dear? Again, I am trying to retrieve some fading references about a 'phone-a-friend' that you had booked for consecutive Saturdays called Eric? Or was it Juan... Ricardo... no sorry dear, Auntie has obviously erased this slightly sordid detail from her virginal consciousness
I do hope you can find a companion soon enough my dear lady. Your sagging nylons and ever more stooping posture will not be getting you any more glances at the local garden store I suspect.
Still, there are multitudes of gentlemen farmers in Auntie's shire - some with their own teeth - and you know your superior lady role model only has to organise a soiree at the wine bar and they'll be queuing up to meet you (and leaving by the back door after they have)
Double chin up old girl. Write soon dear heart... but don't expect a swift response.
I have tea & scones planned at the local estate this PM
Toodle pip
(being so fabulous and busy as Auntie is, the insignificant cobwebs that are the details of peripheral acquaintances' decidedly less fabulous lives get easily brushed off and forgotten)
... in a previous non sequitor ramble of yours I recall you mumbling something about having a 'walk on part' on some provincial Community TV channel infomercial. Is that right dear?
I am guessing it was a public service announcement about the dangers of drug use or poor diets in the concrete recesses that often excuse themselves as your 'neighbourhood'
I hope it was effective Alice and you no longer find syringes poking through your letterbox on your return from the late shift at Ralphs
And how is the damp, underwhelming love life Alice dear? Again, I am trying to retrieve some fading references about a 'phone-a-friend' that you had booked for consecutive Saturdays called Eric? Or was it Juan... Ricardo... no sorry dear, Auntie has obviously erased this slightly sordid detail from her virginal consciousness
I do hope you can find a companion soon enough my dear lady. Your sagging nylons and ever more stooping posture will not be getting you any more glances at the local garden store I suspect.
Still, there are multitudes of gentlemen farmers in Auntie's shire - some with their own teeth - and you know your superior lady role model only has to organise a soiree at the wine bar and they'll be queuing up to meet you (and leaving by the back door after they have)
Double chin up old girl. Write soon dear heart... but don't expect a swift response.
I have tea & scones planned at the local estate this PM
Toodle pip
Saturday 20 June 2009
Oh. It's alive.
How nice to hear from you, Auntie. Given your lengthy silence, one's first assumption was that you had eaten yourself to death. No? Still hugely fat, but still alive, are we?
One's second guess was that you had been murdered by gypsies after some tawdry roadside sexcapade. But even gypsies have some standards -- presumably -- so perhaps not?
Lastly, your correspondence might have simply been interrupted due to a sudden and unfortunate incarceration. This, incidentally, would be a very rational third guess. Jail. All those who know her are very aware of Auntie's sticky fingers. Totally plausible.
Regardless of Auntie's tragic circumstances, it is highly amusing, if a wee bit sad, to hear her bleat on endlessly about her "social standing" with the country set. Mmmmhm. One can only imagine the subtlety with which the locals tolerate, endure and dismiss her! Poor thing. Certainly she dances, she moos, she preens and she offends with great abandon at all public functions. The heart sinks!
So, will Auntie write again (???) and add to the magic of this gorgeous blog, or will she cave under the weight of her own gloom, self-consciousness and self-loathing? The public awaits. But can the old woman really deliver?
Alice
How nice to hear from you, Auntie. Given your lengthy silence, one's first assumption was that you had eaten yourself to death. No? Still hugely fat, but still alive, are we?
One's second guess was that you had been murdered by gypsies after some tawdry roadside sexcapade. But even gypsies have some standards -- presumably -- so perhaps not?
Lastly, your correspondence might have simply been interrupted due to a sudden and unfortunate incarceration. This, incidentally, would be a very rational third guess. Jail. All those who know her are very aware of Auntie's sticky fingers. Totally plausible.
Regardless of Auntie's tragic circumstances, it is highly amusing, if a wee bit sad, to hear her bleat on endlessly about her "social standing" with the country set. Mmmmhm. One can only imagine the subtlety with which the locals tolerate, endure and dismiss her! Poor thing. Certainly she dances, she moos, she preens and she offends with great abandon at all public functions. The heart sinks!
So, will Auntie write again (???) and add to the magic of this gorgeous blog, or will she cave under the weight of her own gloom, self-consciousness and self-loathing? The public awaits. But can the old woman really deliver?
Alice
Too Long Dear Heart
Alice
It is with abject horror that I discover it is nigh oh twelve months since last we corresponded. Now, of course, Auntie's social calendar is at the point of near supernatural excess (meaning no mere mortal - not even Auntie's long suffering companion - could ever hope to manage it efficiently) but this is simply no excuse for Auntie not taking a few minutes out of her daily fabulousness to 'check in' (as you colonials say) on her favourite (well one of her favourites) wayward, adopted souls.
How is one dear heart?
When last we corresponded I seem to recall Alice pontificating about grubby maulings in the back of a yellow cab on route to Hobo-ken from the (decidedly less fashionable) evening venues of the upper East side. Are you still looking for love in all the wrong places dear?
It is LONG overdue that you return to Auntie's Poshtershire estate and allow your slightly more experienced, but decidedly more attractive friend introduce you to this year's 'special set.'
Since the 'wooden top derby' and midnight feasts of Die-nasty Auntie has filtered and 'naturally selected' herself an even more fabulous social landscape.
I know weekend after weekend nursing a room temperature rose in some slightly damp smelling Women's Institute soiree is growing tired. Gather your shillings old bird and jump on the next red eye.
Shredded pork and slightly soggy egg fried rice awaits you lady.
It is with abject horror that I discover it is nigh oh twelve months since last we corresponded. Now, of course, Auntie's social calendar is at the point of near supernatural excess (meaning no mere mortal - not even Auntie's long suffering companion - could ever hope to manage it efficiently) but this is simply no excuse for Auntie not taking a few minutes out of her daily fabulousness to 'check in' (as you colonials say) on her favourite (well one of her favourites) wayward, adopted souls.
How is one dear heart?
When last we corresponded I seem to recall Alice pontificating about grubby maulings in the back of a yellow cab on route to Hobo-ken from the (decidedly less fashionable) evening venues of the upper East side. Are you still looking for love in all the wrong places dear?
It is LONG overdue that you return to Auntie's Poshtershire estate and allow your slightly more experienced, but decidedly more attractive friend introduce you to this year's 'special set.'
Since the 'wooden top derby' and midnight feasts of Die-nasty Auntie has filtered and 'naturally selected' herself an even more fabulous social landscape.
I know weekend after weekend nursing a room temperature rose in some slightly damp smelling Women's Institute soiree is growing tired. Gather your shillings old bird and jump on the next red eye.
Shredded pork and slightly soggy egg fried rice awaits you lady.
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