My Dear Jimmy, there’s something not quite Kosher here. It’s a mirror image of Jacqui and myself some years ago. How Jacqui could not stand me. How I could not stay in the flat when she was around. She was prepared to let me live on the streets rather than have me in her place with her. The utter disruption when we were together.

Jacqui screaming obscenities at me at the top of her lungs and she not caring who heard her. My young granddaughter Kailey bawling for no reason at all but for the dust that seemed to come from out of the BLUE.

With Jacqui, who does her cleaning not too regularly, one is not surprised to see dust. But you know me. I have always been house-proud. So to see dust covering my nice mahogany furniture was quite scary to me. Especially when that dust was a little pungent, got up people’s noses and made them want to hit out at something, or run away from their own homes.

Toby is overworked and under severe business pressure. The orders are not forthcoming. She must be feeling extremely stressed out. Jewish people are a little excitable, not unlike West Indians, but she loves her mother. Let’s face it. Any woman prepared to pay my fair from London to Florida. Offer me $300 per week to look after her mother. Buy the most expensive suit and lots more besides, plus a round-trip ticket for Sally and I to visit her on Mother’s Day, should not allow her mother to get on her nerves in this way. Toby does shout sometimes, but this is something quite different. It’s decidedly non-kosher. Should I be worried?

Kosher it ain't

In the magazine I was reading yesterday, the payout for the Exxon disaster caught my attention. I “rolled up.” I could not stop laughing. It is laughable that after collecting a billion dollars in insurance for the damages that people who have lost everything have had to endure, there is still no payout yet. But after spending a million on various enquiries, they have come up with their findings that “fourteen whales have disappeared and cannot be located.”

I mean, I realise that a whale is an important animal. Or is it a fish? Although it does look like a fish, by some quirk of nature it is a mammal, which means it suckles its young. Not for you, Jimmy, for the less informed—just in case you want to be your usual pompous self.

Anyway, these fourteen whales, I ask you, are going to work out quite expensive. One billion dollars, perhaps? Do you think that with your “open Sesame” line and my “Nosey Parker” flat nose, we could put our single heart into the search to find these whales for them? Maybe the Wales, sorry Whales, may even come out of hiding for someone from Scotland.

It is now 4:51 am. I do not know if I will get any more sleep. The poor baby here cries a lot. It too is just not kosher. He normally has such a sunny disposition; he must be itching. I will, despite my fears, have to wash my hair. It has started to itch, too. And my God, I am going to give you hell when I get hold of you. I will not be able to leave the house not even to buy a wig to cover my head.

See you in dreamland.

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