Obsessive Compulsive Expenses

I thought I’d heard it all when it came to the MPs’ expenses scandal. Up until today my favourite story had been the one about the MP who claimed for a duck house (and not as his second home). But this morning I came across this gem in the paper.

‘Labour MP Sir Gerald Kaufman has justified claiming for a pair of Waterford Crystal grapefruit bowls costing £220, saying that it was due to his “self-diagnosed obsessive compulsive disorder”.’

Apparently poor Gerald has to have exactly the same breakfast, from exactly the same dishes, whether he is at his home in London or his home in Manchester. His breakfast consists of the following:

• Half a grapefruit (from afore-mentioned Waterford Crystal dish)
• A bowl of muesli with semi-skimmed milk
• A cup of coffee
• A Rich Tea biscuit

He added: “You may think I oughtn’t to have a Waterford Crystal grapfruit dish. But I do. Because I’ve got this self diagnosed OCD, I do things according to rules I’ve created.”

This is genius on two levels. Not only is his OCD “self-diagnosed” but the rules he has created conveniently dictate that he should dine from Waterford crystal as opposed to Tupperware plastic or Argos china.

I am currently completing my tax return.

I am also feeling the onset of a “self diagnosed” disorder which will unfortunately render me unable to work in a two bedroom terraced house in North West London.

I feel compelled to work in a beachside villa in Barbados (complete with moat, duck-house and Waterford Crystal toilet seats). As this is due to a serious (self-diagnosed) medical condition I have no choice but to claim it all as expenses. If the Inland Revenue  query my claim I’ll simply send them over to Gerald’s for a grapefruit breakfast and I’m sure he’ll back me up.

On a more serious note, did anyone spot the real crime lurking in Gerald’s breakfast? I am talking of course, about the Rich Tea biscuit. In the entire history of biscuits there has never been a more insipid creation than the Rich  Tea. It has no flavour, it disintegrates the moment you dunk it in your tea and if you don’t dunk it it’s like eating dry sand in biscuit form. The fact that poor Gerald forces himself to eat one of the wretched things every single morning indicates to me that his self diagnosed disorder is not just obsessive and compulsive but downright sado-massochistic.

Amanda’s Got Talent

It’s so nice to see  Amanda Holden launching her US career as a talking mannequin off the back of Susan Boyle’s breakdown.

Boyle had barely started her first basket-weaving class before Holden was hot-footing it to the States, clad in a skin-tight purple number, ‘look-at-me-I’m-famous’ shades, and skyscraper heels (as you do). Within a day she had appeared on just about every high profile chat show to declare that poor Susan wasn’t suffering from any kind of breakdown, she was simply ‘knackered’.

Well that’s OK then. I’ll have to remember to book myself into the nearest psychiatric unit the next time I’ve been over-doing it a tad.

According to a source close to Holden, she is ‘desperate to make it in the States’. Apparently she cannot bear the fact that Piers Morgan is famous for being famous on both sides of the pond and she is not. Well, God bless Susan Boyle and her ‘exhaustion’ then for providing her with the perfect break.

And then this morning I read the following in the newspaper. ‘Demi Moore, 46, and her husband Ashton Kutcher, 31, are willing to pay Susan Boyle £30.000 to perform at their wedding anniversary party. A source said: “They think Susan is brilliant, in a fantastically unique and kitsch way…”‘

Fantastically unique? Kitsch? What planet are these people living on? Every time I leave the house I see women just like Susan Boyle. Wasn’t that the point? That she looked just like an everyday woman and yet sang like an angel. Is it just me, or is there something truly sick about these pampered, surgically disfigured stars treating a vulnerable woman as if she were a play thing? Laughing at her saggy body, then gasping in mock awe as she demonstrates that you can actually look ‘ordinary’ and possess a talent.

Treated Like Royalty

This morning I got a royalty cheque.

It was for £3.48.

I have spent all morning trying to decide what I should spend it on.

As it’s not my first royalty cheque of this size it made me laugh rather than cry. I cried when I received the one for 72 pence – and cried again when I went to bank it. I do a lot of writing workshops for kids and one thing they always ask when they find out I’m a published author is, ‘are you a millionaire, Miss?’

JK Rowling has a lot to answer for!

Oh well, after today’s windfall I’m only £999,996.52 away from the big time. Is there anything you can actually buy for £3.48 these days? I’m feeling all reckless and rock and roll and think Imight try blowing my royalties all in one go. Your suggestions would be most welcome…