Monthly Archives: May 2010

Dear Old Ronnie

I hear on the wireless this morning that dear Ronnie Biggs has taken a turn for the worse, poor old love. I first met him in Lucy’s, here in Hay, in 1963, him and a bloke who called himself  ‘Stan … Continue reading

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Packing for Hay

God, I feel bloody. Don’t know why. Hardly touched a drop last night, as the skinflint landlord of The Turks Head proved unwilling to stretch my credit, and if it hadn’t been for Sir Sidney Nolan, Australia’s greatest painter standing … Continue reading

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Pigs as Prizes. By Spume.

I hear on the grapevine that Ian MacEwan has won the Wodehouse prize for comic fiction. The prize is a pig. Just goes to show you. Write something pallid about sulking poetesses sitting around in dustmotes lit by the westering … Continue reading

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No prizes for Spume.

What a tragedy it is to see Her Majesty the Queen forced to act as mouthpiece for the ruling classes. My unlamented father, Sir Bufton Spume, knew her uncle, of course, back when he was Prince of Wales. David would … Continue reading

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Spume on the Orange

I’m looking forward to this evening’s Orange festivities, having backed the favourite months ago, and got three to one about her. Mrs. Cutler, our redoubtable housekeeper being in one of her ‘moods’ (a consequence, she always claims in her clearer … Continue reading

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Some notes towards a Life of Spume, by Ian Marchant.

It is, I suppose, no secret in the world of English letters that I am the official biographer of Hilary Alaric MacFaddean Spume, and that in addition I am editing a small festschrift for publication next year on the occasion … Continue reading

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