Darling Suzanne Moore - of fuck-me shoes fame (copyright G Greer) - writes a short note following my New Statesman party report ...
Madame you flatter me. Not six inches - barely three! Strange do though....I didn't meet the only person I wanted to meet.
Suzanne X
<< I didn't meet the only person I wanted to meet. >>
ReplyDeleteBecause this person has no physical existence. It's entirely a cyber-entity. :-)
wht is suzanne moore known as suzanne 'give me' moore?
ReplyDeleteMr Duralex is wrong - it was I who Suzanne wanted to meet. But I don't go to those gatherings now that the New Statesman is edited by a German and the Spectator by a Maltese. I'm told you simply can't get anywhere in the media these days if you're called Appleby or Robertson.
ReplyDeleteOoooooh - Lavinia - you've got your grammar wrong, clever clogs!
ReplyDeleteDrat. That's what happens when you have a Blue Train cocktail before lunch
ReplyDeleteAnd it's Robinson. Robertson is the QC married to Kathy Lette - she was at the party. I felt like tripping her up.
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