So Patrick Stewart lives in Bermondsey. Jean Luc Picard searched the Thames for a place to live all the way between Canary Wharf and Vauxhall, but found most of it to be "sterile and lacking any life".
Shame he is the only one who has noticed London's heart is sterile and lacking any life. Maybe he is the only one who isn't getting paid off by Developers (all politicians are suspects).
This morning's involved dream:
I am in a mixed party of strangers invited for a weekend at a large updated country manor house. There is a Penelope Keith bossing type, and a few snooting butlers. And tables laden with delicious food. When it comes to ordering drinks,for some reason I must be in a couple, and I team up with
Patrick Stewart. I have one drink and he has two. After the meal while taking a digestive wander through the rooms with the other guests, I am presented with the Bar bill. Patrick Stewart is nowhere to be seen, but apparently he has written on the bill "Add 50%" (as a tip), to take the total to £104, and then sent the bill on to me. Angry at having a rip-off bill dumped on me, I wonder how I can pay it. I stay for a breakfast whose tables are laden with the most scrumptious cakes (or gateaux as they say in England, for cakes here mean junk). Still Patrick is nowhere to be found, and so I am intending to leave without paying the bill.
Imagine waking up with Patrick Stewart. I have only seen the trailers for his film, "Jeffery", so I can imagine it more freely. From the kitchen, casting his voice to the boudoir with the same strength as to a 1000-seat auditorium:
"COFFEE FOR YOU THIS MORNING, DARLING?"
It must be hell being a celebrity. And needing a boyfriend. It must be hell for the boyfriend. Living in the shadow of someone so totally successful. Feeling the endless competition coming from younger, more entertaining, cleverer, better-looking, sexier, fitter men. Wherever you go.
I'll carry on captaining my own Enterprise. This celebrity stuff is for twinks. Twinks are fodder. You can be fodder, or you can compete for the fodder, or you can stand on the sidelines and watch all the foddering nonsense. Fod it all.