Good heavens, what am I to do? I've been thrown on the scrap heap with barely a million to my name. All I have to fall back on is a stately home in Wiltshire, a couple of villas in Spain, a yacht in Marbella and half of the Netherlands. That's barely enough to keep me in sudoku puzzles till the end of the week!
Mind you, if the Inland Revenue finds out about all my Swiss bank accounts, even I'll need a Cray to help me fill in my tax return.
Sigh.
There's only one thing for it. I'll have to consolidate all my debts into one, easily-managed loan.
I wonder who the bastards have got lined up to replace me? Probably some tarty little bimbo who doesn't mind getting them out for the boys, or spelling out "knob" or "willy" or other rude words.
Thank God this blog's anonymous. If the Beeb knew I was desperate for ready cash, they could really drive down my fees for presenting their next rigged phone-in.
5 comments:
Ah Carol, Carol, Carol. I haven't watched countdown in years. But if my Grandad were still alive he'd be writing an angry letter to the bbc as we speak.
Serves you right you BITCH! It should have been you that died not that lovely old geezer.
Mrs. F. A job for you! It'll keep the old man happy in retirement!
Mr Guru - Ah, bless your cotton socks! Can I thank your Grandad posthumously?
Dom - Well, pardon me for breathing!
John - Mrs F has trouble adding up the weekly shopping bill, never mind mental arth- arifmat- sums!
Can I have a P please Carol? Shit, wrong game.
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