Delirium

Recovering from a three week virus recently, I was amused to find my already irreverent reception of TV news even more exaggerated. This was achieved by drifting in and out of sleep while various bonkers broadcasts played out in front of me. 

For example, I was initially woken by what appeared to be the mournful cry of a deserted Tom cat on our garage roof. It could only be one thing in reality, and that was the opening salvos of a female weather forecaster on storm duty. Each sentence became more and more orgasmic as the brutal crescendo approached. And then, slipping into sleep again, I had the wonderful vision of the lady biting a large feather pillow as the raptures of countrywide doom racked her overwrought body. From that point on (I dreamed) all forecasters were routinely issued with colour matching pillows slung creatively around their necks. 

The next morning, during my feverish post-viral recovery, I spotted an interesting Skype type interview. In the past, these have been quite easily categorised into two or three subgroups. We have the millionaire minimalists who only want one unwatered potplant and a grey wall as their backdrop, the intellectual philosopher-kings who present themselves in front of a room full of impressive, but largely unread books, and the eccentrics who like to wear garish1980's braces and have bagpuss cats on their shoulders. But this was a new one....

The lady in question appeared to have her computer on a  large Regency banqueting table. In the gloomy backdrop numerous oil paintings with guilded frames adorned the walls, each one a sneering facsimile of the lady herself. Large silver candlesticks dotted serpentine desks and cupboards.

My wandering, sleepy mind then extrapolated.

An ancient butler appeared on the scene, delivering a burnished ear trumpet in readiness for the interview. He bowed in half and a resounding crack echoed across the room.

"Cor blimey, can't an old lady have any sleep?! Who bloody cares what they say. They don't do owt anyway!"

Bagpuss followed, and I turned off.