Exciting news, guys. Last night’s fiendishly clever poem I wrote for Stephen Fry has resulted in not one but two requests from other celebrities whose names I’ve mentioned in passing on this blog and who now want to be commemorated in the same unique way. That's right. I'm now official poet to the stars and you'll read all my latest compositions here on my official blog.
I was really, really flattered that Bill Bryson emailed me to ask if I could pen a sequence of sonnets in his honour (I’m working on them Bill). And I’m only a little less flattered by Jeremy Paxman’s request for a nine hundred line mock-heroic epistle set in the murky world of his sock drawer. I can only assure him that I will get around to it in good time. I’m a simple man with simple wants. Give me a biro and a sheet of paper and I can knock this stuff out, a page an hour. I don’t know how the great poets did it, but I'd be surprised if it was any different. Paxman should be satisfied with that.
Yet yesterday’s display of my poetic gifts has not been a total success. It has led me to stumble into murky water of unknown depths. I have today been contacted by dozens of members of The Priory of Fry, a secretive cult of Stephen Fry worshippers. Members from across the globe have been attracted to my blog by this week’s unusual level of Stephen Fry related activity. What began as a few small anecdotes about my private life has turned this site into the world’s foremost place for Fry cultists to gather. They’ve been hitting the site all day, with many of them reloading the page forty or fifty times per hour. I have lost count of the number of emails I have received that only contain the word 'Baaah'.
The cult’s mysterious leader, Mrs. Janine Rogers of 43 Pringle Row, Glasgow, emailed me around 2pm to ask if I would write more poems in praise of Mr. Fry and if she can include them in a volume of celebratory verse she’s putting together for publication in the New Year. Initially, I said 'yes' but I’m beginning to think that Mrs. Roger’s threat, involving cultists molesting me with an oddly shaped ceremonial parsnip, may have swayed my decision.
So now, after consultation with Judy, I’ve changed my mind. I will make no special case for Fry and his many followers. He can stand in line behind Bryson and Paxman, who aren't without acolytes of their own. Tomorrow, normal service will be resumed on this blog and any cultists found loitering here will be dealt with in the severest manner.
This blog celebrates only one man. It recognises only one god. And the name of that god begins with a 'Richard' and it ends, most firmly, with a ‘Madeley’.