I'm having difficulties ....

For a long time now, i've been having more and more trouble in being spontaneous in my maternal language (perhaps i need a personal trainer)

My adoptive country's language has become 'my' language - it can't be helped after ten years 'in country' i guess, it's just the way it is

I have little other choice than to speak, read, hear, sing .. eat (!!) in French

For sure i listen to the Beeb, but i watch french t.v ... i watch movies in french (i can't be arsed to watch subtitled films) ... i whizz through The Guardian but je lis Libé et je dévore Le monde

I don't hang about in an expat clique, mes collègues proche are french, outside of work i have no other option than using french .. in private ... well ... let's say ... savoir parler français fait passer beaucoup plus de chose coté coeur

I'm at a point where i need to decide if i'm prepared to 'expose' my self more when i post or whether i wish to continue in my native tongue with the banality that my little corner of la toile has become or ... well ... pfft .. pfft ... what do ido? put stuff up que personne ne comprendrait, peut-être

Voila, où j'en suis dans ma p'tite vie sans consequence

Duffy - Warwick Avenue

The blissfull warm spring sunshine has finally arrived and the sacrosanct month of bank holidays with it's associated long weekends is now upon us

All of which might sound cool, groovy and lazily parisien, but the flip side, though, is that four-day weeks soon get whittled down to somewhere between 8 and 15 days' worth of productiveness and the ensuing backlog of untreated files ...

Behind every untreated file there hides a grouchy impatient person who's not taking any time off .. like .. heuuu .. for example ... yours truly *almost*

If the truth be told, i'm in the middle of a huge work up to get projects off the ground before the summer sets in.

But, the people who sign the contracts and hold the purse strings (all of whom are obviously married with two kids, a dog, two cats and a gold fish) will not be around for the next four mondays, fridays and quite possibly thursdays too ... trust me, their underlings are not that impressed

On another front, i went out to buy a new fridge at the weekend and it's due to be delivered tomorrow

Tomorrow, however, i have to leave early to get to the other side of the city for 9.30 - i've got a feeling i'm going to be a fridge orphan until next week :'(

Joke of the day

As classy as ever :-/

A man goes with his son to the vets.

Carefully placed in a shoebox, the son reveals to the vet a dead gerbil.

The father is pretty sure he *knows* the gerbil is dead but for the sake of his son...

The vet places the box on the floor, opens the back door and lets in a ginger tom.

The tom walks 'round the box, purring and sniffing at the gerbil and walks out again.

The son looks at the father, the father shrugs.

Then the vet goes out and returns with two labradors which he leads to the box, lets them have a good sniff of the gerbil and then leads away again.

"I'm afraid there's no more we can do," says the vet. "That'll be £300."

"£300! That's absolutely outrageous!" says dad.

"Well, there was the cat scan and the lab tests..."
________________________________________

There was a competition to cross the English Channel doing only the breaststroke.

The three women who entered the race were a brunette, a redhead and a blonde. After approximately 14 hours, the brunette staggered up on the shore and was declared the fastest breast stroker.

About 40 minutes later, the redhead crawled up on the shore and was declared the second place finisher.

Nearly 4 hours after that, the blonde finally came ashore and promptly collapsed in front of the worried onlookers.

When the reporters asked why it took her so long to complete the race, she replied,

"I don't want to sound like I'm a sore loser, but I think those two other girls were using their arms..."
________________________________________

A man goes to a shrink and says :

"Doctor, my beautiful, sexy, young wife is unfaithful
to me. Every evening, she goes to Larry's bar and
picks up men. In fact, she goes to bed with anybody
who asks her ! I'm going crazy. What do you think I
should do ?"

"Relax," says the Doctor, "take a deep breath and calm
down. Now, tell me, where exactly is Larry's bar ?"

Little blessings

or

Fakkkkeuhhhh

depending on how you see things...

Going back to Monday's posting and how i'd discovered ungenetically challenged cheese right on my door step, i'm now living in a world of 21st century trench foot ..

My fridge has had enough of having to cope with the 'real food' stocked in it's entrails and has gone on strike to celebrate May 1968 before the hour

It came a cropper over the course of the day and decided to fulfill my lifelong dream of having an indoor swimming pool - all be it in a decidedly unsavoury smelling and excedingly cold stylieeee

I've just spent the evening binning the crumpled looking blinis, the unidentified and forgotten about penicillin encrusted things .. not forgetting the out of date yoghourts (june 2007, if you please)

Last year it was money going missing from my bank account, the hot water tank going *phoooey* and then the central heating going kaput

What else does 2008 have in store for me ??

Duffy - Rockferry

If the health police say it's bad for you, then i'm either buying it ... making it ... cooking it ... or saints preserve us: eating it

Nuked Gherkins from Ukraine to go with a nice little Tartiflette ? - Yes pleeeeease

The finest bluetongued lamb from the U.K ? - Luvverly

Militarily weaponised, un-pasturised, cheese of mass distruction ? - *gimmeegimmeegimmee*

This weekend, then, whilst out doing the weekly shopping, having bought the ecologically sound washing powder, the tear inducing and wallet crunching sustainable-growth-equitable-coffee-beans, i discovered a boutique that's always been under my nose, so to speak ...

Noo, my kinky reader of one, i hadn't blundered into a video and gadgetrie store at Pigalle, nor had i finally stumbled upon Ye Olde Fyne Englishe Epicerie, selling Branston pickle and Heinz baked beans by the spoonful (which i do admit to having difficulty in finding)

Nahhn ... leave it ahhht

In the finest Pythonesque of traditions, i had walked into my hitherto unfrequented cheese emporium :)

Drive by, blink in the sun, and you miss it.

Walk-by, inhale, and you can't but help to notice it

I ventured in and must've spent hours in there, enraptured by what was on offer - everything but Wensleydale, Cheddar or red Leicester

Only real cheese

Cheese that puts hairs on you chest

In two words :

Manly cheese !!

Or three, if your a bit pernickety :

Anti social cheese !!!

Brie which is grossly bien fait, bleu d'Auvergne that really ought to have a 'cher collègues, je pue de la gueule, et j'en ai vraiment rien à cirer' sign on the packaging, or a nice little undefinded, stodgy lump of toxic smelling Maroilles to dip in the café/chicoré concoction at seven in the morning

I'm what you might call an un-reserved and un-repentant 'Foodie'

Fisticuffs

Three squad cars, two cops on bicycles and a few rough looking gendarmes had blocked of the street where i work this morning

Everyday, just as i get to work, i stop for a brief chat with one of the voituriers who parks cars for people - there are three guys doing the same job and they make a relatively good living from the tips that people give them

For years i thought that they were all working for the same company, but apparently this is not the case - behind this genteel façade of civilistion and priviledge, there's a bit of a turf war going on

It would seem then, that this morning, for whatever reason, an insult too far ... a bad look ... a client 'poached' from someone else ... led to an unseemly dust up between two of them

They were both dragged away in handcuffs and arrested

The upside though, is that the one guy who was left on his own, s'est fait les couilles en or, today, as we prosaically say

Joke of the day

Four ex-US presidents are on a cruise liner

Suddenly, it hits a rock and starts to sink.

"Quickly, breakout the life rafts" yells Reagan

"Women and children first" cries Carter

"Fuck the women and children" shouts Nixon
...

"Do you really think we have the time ?" says Clinton

Unfortunate signs

Been caught stealing ..

I've nabbed this groovy meme (you know who you are !!)

The Basics

Hair Color: Right now, rat brown but it in the summer it turns beach-bum blonde
Eye Color: Varies on my mood (apparently) from shades of cornflower/sky/deep sea blue
Height: 5'10 (1m78 in euro speak)
Profession: Get realllll .. as if 'im gonna let on :p
Relationship Status: Single (sniffffeuhh)

My Favorites

Favorite Color:Blooooooooo
Favorite Car: As long as it has four wheels, an engine and some petrol i'm easy
Favorite Movie: The wings of desire
Favorite Hobby: Doing hmm mmm
Favorite Song/Singer: Nina Simone - Sinnerman
Favorite Book/Author: The diceman - Luke Reinhart
Favorite School Subject: History
Favorite Vacation Destination: Anywhere near the sea .. the med
Favorite Food: I would die for a good plate of frogs legs ... i'm just playin' witcha :@) .. probably something very simple ... roast chicken with all the bits that go with it or a very simple steak frites
Favorite Animal: S'got four legs (obviously), fur (ditto), claws, whiskers, comes scampering over saying 'feed me' as soon as the refridgerator door opens - the cat
Favorite Store: Depends .. for pressies : Chantal Thomas ;@) ..for me : FNAC
Favorite Celebrity : A dead one ? ... Clint ! Clinty baby !!
Favorite Childhood Friend: Pfft they were all a buncha l'ill bastids :p
Favorite Childhood Memory: Catching snow whilst my sister explained that it was 'magic dust'
Favorite Person In Your Life: They'll never know

This or That

Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla vanillavanillavanilla ... good grief !
Big Mac or Whopper: No way, never ever ... ever hear of mechanically rendered meat ?
Coke or Pepsi : Same as above
Beer or Wine: Wine .. or beer .. or wine .. or beer .. it depends
Coffee or Tea: Café .. good strong stuff to get my dose of the heebie geebies
Apple Juice or O.J: O.J ... anything else is just un-fermented alcohol
Facebook or MySpace: What is an 'facebook' ? or an Myspook' ? :p
Summer or winter: "Summer time, when the livin' is easy'"
Windows or Mac: Winders is crap and mac is too fiddly ... the abacus is terribly under-rated
Cats or Dogs: Pussies - pay attention ! i did say earlier
Boxers or Briefs: hehehehe .. n.u.f.f.i.n.k .. stark bollock naked in the nuddy bébé
Rain or Shine: Shine, near a bit of water somewhere
Chips or Popcorn: At a push, popcorn
Salty or Sweet: Salty
Plane or Boat: No option for trains, then ... plane first but a romantic jaunt in a leak free boat is cool too
Morning or Night: Night .. the nearer the dark the better
Movie or Play: At a push a movie .. but a funny play (i.e not shakespearean stuff) is ok too
Walk or Drive: Cruisin' (for the freedom) walkin' for a bit of easy exercise
Money or Love: Allways mon love bébé .. "if it wasn't for loo-oooo-oooooo-ve where would we be now .."
Breakfast or Dinner: Dinner, i guess
Forgiveness or Revenge: Revenge is a waste of energy (all that plotting 'n' stuff) forgiveness produces more fruit
Paint or Wallpaper: Stucco ? does that count ?
House or Apartment: A house .. but it's gotta have a garden

Do You?

Have Any Pets: Not any more, but i used to have two cats - Winnie and Réglisse
Have Any Children: Eh ? What? What is a "children" ?
Smoke: Herrings and kippers
Drink: Yup, if it's your round
Exercise: A lot less than i used to .. tennis is my main thing now
Play on a Sports Team: I used to at school .. anything that was up for grabs
Belong to Any Organizations: No way
Love Your Job: You havin' a laugh ?
Like to Cook: Cooking ? I live to cook and cook things to die for (yes siree !!)
Play An Instrument: Pots and pans (see above) and the bed springs :p
Sing: Not too badly ('tis bein' me oirish roots 'n' all t'be sure)
Dance: Yeah, baby yeah :@)
Speak Multiple Languages: Fully fleunt in english, french and gibberish (i need tons more lessons in english and french, though, to be fully tri-lingual)
Ice Skate: Love it to death
Swim: Yup, no worries .. if you fall into La Seine, i might trample over decrepid old grannies to save you
Paint: Although i'm relatively good at drawing and sketching, i've been known to dabble in pastels, posterpaints and watercolor
Write: As litterate as any baboon with an unlimited amount of time on its hands
Ski: Would love to

Adele - Cold shoulder

It may be spring but it's still a bit chilly round the gills what with the hailstones and the drip-drip-drop of little April showers

'Tis also the time of year when an young man's fancy turns to ... heuuu ... other stuff

Cue, stage left, Enola ;@)

A while a go, i explained that Enola suggested that we go out for a bit of a casual drink.

We finally did so with a few colleagues which, whilst good fun, meant that over the course of the evening she had to fend off various comments about how, y'know ... being on her own in Pareee and all that ... how she could be having fun ... such a shame how her bloke was in the U.S ...

Enola stopped by my office this afternoon and whilst we were nattering away about how our respective weekends went, she pointedly mentioned that blokey in the U.S was no more

Enola is at present footloose and fancy free, so it would seem

*today's question to my boss: "do you not find it shameful that 99.9% of employees in our company are obliged to work at night to make ends meet ?" .. "no, they can try to find work elsewhere if they need to"*

:$ Toujours aussi classe .. âmes sensibles, zappez toute de suite

Bali Balo

Bali Balo dans son berceau
Bandait déjà comme un taureau
Fils de putain lui dit sa mère
Tu bandes déjà plus que ton père
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est un salaud

Bali Balo dans le desert
Se trimballait les couilles à l'air
Arriva un nuage de grenouilles
Qui lui bouffa la peau des couilles
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est un salaud

Bali Balo sur sa moto
Faisait du 100 et du 0
Et c'est dans s'putain de virage
Qui s'les ait prises dans l'embraillage
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est un salaud

Bali Balo chez les bonnes soeurs
Se tapa la mère supérieure
La vieille lui dit "jamais l'seigneur
Ne m'a donné autant d'bonheur"
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est un salaud

Bali Balo dans son avion
Avec sa femme et son cochon
Dès qu'sa femme eut tourné la tête
Il encula la pauvre bête
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est un salaud

Bali Balo au cinéma
Péta si fort qu'il s'envola
Il atterit dans les coulisses
Et encula la directrice
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est unsalaud

Bali Balo dans son cerceuil
Bandait encore comme un chevreuil
Avec sa bite en arc de cercle
Il parvint à soul'ver l'couvercle
Ah ah Bali Balo, Bali Balo est un salaud


La digue du cul

En revenant de Nantes
en revenant de Nantes
De Nantes à Montaigu,
La digue, la digue
De Nantes à Montaigu
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

Je rencontre une belle,
Je rencontre une belle
Qui dormait le cul nu
La digue, la digue
Qui dormait le cul nu
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

je sors mon arbalète
je sors mon arbalète
Et j'lui fous droit dans le cul
La digue, la digue
Et j'lui fout droit dans le cul
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

la belle se réveille
la belle se réveille
Et dit " j'ai l'diable au cul "
La digue, la digue
Et dit " j'ai l'diable au cul "
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

non ce n'est pas le diable
non ce n'est pas le diable
Mais un gros dard poilu
La digue, la digue
Mais un gros dard poilu
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

qui bande et qui décharge
qui bande et qui décharge
Et qui t'en fous plein l'cul
La digue, la digue
Et qui t'en fout plein l'cul
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

Puisqu'y est qu'il y reste
Et qu'on en parle plus
La digue, la digue
Et qu'on en parle plus
La digue du cul, la digue du cul

A quick resumé of my week so far, then ...

My new trainee, FoxyLady, the actrice has started her training - BoyIdiot, as can be imagined, filled his little white sport socks when she arrived (not a nice image, i grant you) ...

In the meantime, i've been contacted by a famous, in-her-own-lunchtime, chanteuse (i'll have to think up a name for her too) who wants exactly the same deal as Foxy ...

Marge, the accounts woman, has been on my back since the start of the week for client dossiers that are incomplete - they're not incomplete as such, more kind of, well, 'arranged' according to my own personal filing system under the piles of stuff that's been accumulating on my desk ...

Finally, i've just realised that the equivalent of the poll tax in the U.K - la tax d'habitation - is due any day soon, and i don't know how much it's going to set me back ... i've got the insurance people hastling me and sending letters about a renewal of my contract (i'm reticent to pay because of the above, and i'm looking to move anyway) ... and the third installment of my income tax is also due any day soon

So far, it's been a pretty uncool week de merde

:'(

Utah Saints - Something good '08

Just when we had high hopes of today being tit Monday, things went a bit pear shaped as the air turned chilly, the skies opened and *snow* fell over Paris - winter has finally arrived ... in April ... how screwy is that ?

Despite everything, Les Champs were choc-a-block with warring factions politely pushing and shoving to get the best view of the flame of shame making it's way down my avenue

I went for a quick wander, just to check things out, but became quickly discouraged by the windchill, the intermittant noise (must be a sign of age creeping up on me) and the sight of Roi Nico-the ridiculously-small's personal Keystone troop brigade creating mayhem as far as the eye could see

I got back to the office to find Enola, waiting to see me ...

... Enola, who wants to go out for a drink tomorrow night

... and who is seriously thinking of leaving

Maurice Patapon

Blague du jour - spécial 'Corse'

Au championnat du monde du lancer de marteau : un athlète allemand se présente... prend le marteau, tourne virevolte et lance le marteau au loin dans stade... 150M.... record battu...

Un français du continent arrive, à son tour, concentré, il prend le marteau tourne, virevolte et lance le marteau dans les airs pour retomber... 185 M... record une nouvelle fois battu !!!

Un corse se prépare à son tour, pour l'ultime épreuve lui aussi, tourne virevolte et lance le marteau en l'air d'une force phénoménale au point que le marteau sort du stade et disparaît...
Etonnés les journalistes sportifs se précipitent vers lui....
"Mais comment avez vous fait ??"
Et le corse tout fier... "Loin de moi les outils !"
__________________________________

Pourquoi les Corses sont-ils petits ?
Parce qu'on leur a dit : "Quand tu seras grand, tu iras travailler."
__________________________________

Deux corses arrivent sur le continent pour la première fois.
Le premier voit un panneau de la DDE : "Danger travaux" Il se retourne vers le second et dit : "Au moins, ici ils préviennent''.
__________________________________

Au cours d'une récente grève a Ajaccio, la direction de l'entreprise a du faire appel aux C.R.S. pour faire évacuer l'usine.Ceux-ci sont intervenus à coup de grenades lacrymogènes.

C'était la première fois qu'on a vu des Corses quitter leur travail en pleurant.
__________________________________

Deux corses sous un châtaignier :

"Eh ! Dominique, j'ai la braguette ouverte ?
- Non
- Tant pis! Je pisserai demain."
__________________________________

Toute de noir vêtue, une femme corse revient des obsèques de son mari qui, conformément à ses dernières volontés, a été incinéré.

Elle rentre chez elle avec l'urne et verse les cendres dans un sablier et dit :
"MAINTENANT, TRAVAILLE !!!"
__________________________________

Un touriste à Ajaccio prend contact avec l'autochtone : "C'est un bien beau pays que vous habitez là."
- Ouais... on peut dire comme ça.
- Et de la belle terre...bien grasse...fertile.
- Peu ! pensez-vous...y-a rien qui pousse ici.
- Vous me surprenez. Je suis moi-même agriculteur sur le continent et je suis sûr qu'ici, si on plante, ....
- Ah ben évidemment, si on plante, alors...
__________________________________
Deux corses sont assis sur un banc (normal).
La banque qui leur fait face se fait plastiquer (re normal).
Les billets tombent un peu partout sur la place, Le premier ouvre les mains et dit :
"Fais comme moi, si le vent se lève, on est riche"

My bad !

On Monday, i said that i'd sneak into work at an unfeasibly early hour and turn off all of the default sound settings on BoyIdiot's PC ...

The result was predictable - at the first non sound of 'ring ding a ding-ding' from his return stroke and space keys, he skittered out of his office with a cry of 'My computer's broken'

MissusBossWoman calmed him down and phoned the GuyWhoDoes ... the GuyWhoDoes, couldn't and so BI no longer can

And so it was that peace reigned once more on the work place ;@)

Duffy - Mercy

For thousands of years, the human race has spread out across the Earth, scaling mountains and plying the oceans, planting crops and building highways, raising skyscrapers and atmospheric CO2 levels, and observing, with tremendous and unflagging enthusiasm, the Biblical injunction to be fruitful and multiply across our world's every last nook, cranny and subdivision.

An invitation. Earth has issues, and it's time humanity got started on a Plan B. So, starting in 2014, Virgin founder Richard Branson and Google co-founders Larry Page and Sergey Brin will be leading hundreds of users on one of the grandest adventures in human history: Project Virgle, the first permanent human colony on Mars.

The question is, do you want to join us? ...

Click on the image below to sign up

Rolf Apilo

Chunnel trouble, 1990

If you're spoofing the building of a tunnel there's one enticing joke to play, and the News of the World went for it in 1990.

The paper reported that the Channel tunnel project, at long last under way after centuries of discussion, had run into yet another glitch, and a really bad one. Costs had already spiralled and labour troubles had added to engineering challenges to slow things down. Now, guess what, surveyors had realised that the two halves being built simultaneously from Britain and France would miss one another by 14ft.

The £10bn error - previously used as an April Fool on tunnels in the Alps, America and Japan - was blamed in proper tabloid style on French engineers who had insisted on using the metric system. The Brits had stuck loyally to miles and inches.

Other Chunnel spoofs over the long years of construction (1987-94) included a more original suggestion, in the Sunday Express, that work had stopped after the discovery of a gold seam at exactly halfway, which was being claimed by both Britain and France.


Motorway madness, 1991

It had the virtue of simplicity: in 1991, the Times revealed that the relatively new but already choked London orbital motorway the M25 was to follow an alternating one-way system.

On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, all six lanes in both directions would be used clockwise. On Tuesdays and Thursdays everyone would go the other way.

The idea was given credibility by the usual assortment of technical details, plus the fact that things would revert to normal at weekends.

Hoax protesters were soon joined by real ones as readers rang or wrote in. One suspect commuter from Swanley in Kent complained: "Villagers use the motorway to make shopping trips to Orpington. On some days this will be a journey of two miles, and on others a journey of 117 miles. The scheme is lunatic."

Congestion has since become so severe on the M25 that the apparently mad scheme may now seem like a bright idea.

Moscow underground, 1992

As the former Soviet Union thawed, its sense of humour warmed up. In 1992, the Moskovskaya Pravda newspaper guyed the country's increasingly passionate embrace of capitalism with news that the city was going to build a second underground system. The Moscow underground, built by Stalin to impress the rest of the world, is a genuine wonder, with marble floors, classical pillars and even chandeliers, but it does get crowded. The newspaper explained, however, that the new system was not intended to relieve the crush. It was ideologically necessary under capitalism to have at least two of everything, "to destroy monopolies in the interests of competition". Pravda is Russian for "truth", which this was not.

San Serriffe, 1977

"The Financial Times was always doing special reports on little countries I'd never heard of," says former Guardian advertising rep Philip Davies. "I was thinking about April Fool's Day 1977 and I thought, why don't we just make a country up?" Special reports editor Stuart St Clair Legge suggested the title that was to become a legend: San Serriffe, part typographic pun, part credible name for a tropical isle.

It also had the special appropriateness for the Guardian of challenging spelling. During its long relationship with San Serriffe, starting with the original supplement itself, the paper has printed the name with carefree inconsistency, using every possible variation of "r"s and "f"s, and, on one occasion, two "e"s.

Picking up Legge's theme, staffer Geoffrey Taylor designed a shrunken semicolon-shaped version of New Zealand's twin islands and based everything on the rich vocabulary of print. Leading islanders, such as the dictator General Pica, and places like the capital, Bodoni, were named after fonts of type and their measurements: he even got away with a wilderness area on the north island called Wodj of Type.

The islands were positioned off the Canaries and with just over three days to go, the final shape of the major, seven-broadsheet-page supplement was drawn up. Then, in the late afternoon of March 27, two jumbo jets collided at Tenerife airport, causing the worst aviation disaster in the world, in which 583 people died. The delicate web of April Fool fantasy suddenly seemed marginal. The editor, Peter Preston, teetered on the edge of pulling San Serriffe, but fortunately it was not abandoned. With a Herculean effort, the islands were relocated in the Indian Ocean, their history, flora and fauna completely revised.

So San Serriffe indelibly joined the map of the world. Next morning, the phone calls started early, the letters followed later. Thousands of readers were taken in; spin-offs soon included "I've been to San Serriffe" car stickers and a T-shirt from the islands, which sold a record 12,000 to readers.


The best for last ...

The spaghetti harvest, 1957

Cameraman Charles De Jaeger and producer David Wheeler "made their pitch to me," recalls the then Panorama editor Michael Peacock. "April 1 would be on a Monday that year, so this would be a rare opportunity to carry an April Fool. They outlined how the story of the spaghetti harvest would go. Charles, a freelance who'd worked for Panorama from the start, explained that he was going to be filming in Switzerland anyway. He knew a small village where the women would be happy to take part, and he was sure they could attach spaghetti to trees! So it wouldn't cost much to film.

"I couldn't say no. I gave Charles a budget of £100, and off he went. He did a splendid job of filming the harvest, but not enough credit has been given to David for the brilliant pastiche newsreel commentary he wrote for Richard Dimbleby." It was a masterly 350 words ("Many of you, I am sure, will have seen pictures of vast spaghetti plantations in the Po valley. For the Swiss, however, it tends to be more of a family affair . . ."), suited to the sonorous cadences of Dimbleby, who saw the script and fortunately agreed to join the prank.

The film ran for three minutes. Millions watched as yet another fascinating "window on the world" (Panorama's catchphrase) was opened for their information, education and entertainment. Then Dimbleby reappeared and gave them a whopper of a nudge. "Now we say goodnight," he signed off, "on this first day of April."

Most of the millions watching missed his clue. The spoof had scored an extraordinary bull's-eye. The BBC did its best to reassure critics - it would be a long time before April Fool's fell on a Monday again, said officials. They meanwhile took a playful line in following up the hoax. After a few days, anyone who rang up or wrote in about growing their own spaghetti was advised: place a sprig of spaghetti in a tin of tomato sauce and hope for the best.




Lifted from today's Guardian