Conspiracy Theories

Were the moon landings fake, was the CIA involved in JFKs assassination, was Michael Jackson really the king of pop (before he died), and is Harry still around?
Oh the rumour mill has already started... there's been no blog for months, he doesn't appear in any of the latest batch of excellently taken photos, he hasn't been pestering mildy attractive young(ish) women with double entendre filled texts of late and if you play the Elbow song, 'One Day Like This' backwards the vocals sound like Guy Garvey is saying 'Harry is no longer around' - I should also point out that it ruins your CD player, so I don't recommend you try it. There are also rumours that I am about to sign for Manchester United on a free transfer... again, not true.
The truth, is of course, a lot less sinister and easily explained. The blogs have dried up because I am lazy, I've used the same jokes 15 times already and there is currently an abundance of sport on free to air TV over here. I would be watching sport right now but it's a rest day in the Tour de France and England have wrapped up an historic victory at Lords before lunch (your time - before bedtime our time). And within seconds of Graeme Swan taking the final wicket at the home of cricket I was receiving text messages and emails along the lines of: Dame Nellie Melba, Bob Hawke, Phar Lapp, Kylie Minogue, Skippy... your boys took one hell of a beating.
And, of course, I don't appear in any of the beautifully composed photos because I took them all - and, surprisingly, I haven't worked out how to use the auto function yet... because that would involve reading the instructions. I should however point out that there were more photos, but the selection committee deemed them unsuitable for publication. Pics of the Human League, the statue of Bonn Scott in Fremantle and a photo of me looking a lot like a young Ewan McGregor all failed to make the final selection. In the light of these omissions you may be wondering how three photos of George with a large purple balloon made the final cut. The balloon was a stage prop for Adam Hills, an Australian comedian, who George and I went to see at the end of May. Mr Hills is currently starring at the Edinburgh fringe, and will embark on a UK tour in the autumn (tickets are available from all good stockists). I feel obliged to plug his shows because George ended up with a starring role in the Perth one, culminating with him going on stage and subsequently walking away with one of the props. He got picked out early in the performance and became the go to man (boy) throughout the evening. In fact he managed to get three pretty substantial laughs from the audience - I myself only managed one... but it was a bigger one, and, I got a round of applause thrown in for good measure. When we were leaving the auditorium after the show loads of people were talking to George and saying 'well done' - he was slightly bemused by it and couldn't work out how they knew who he was... then I pointed out that he was the only boy in the theatre carrying an over sized purple balloon. One woman thought George had been so good that she wouldn't believe he wasn't a plant... more conspiracy theories. Adam Hills is very popular over here, he hosts a game show that is not unlike Never Mind the Buzzcocks, which meant that George was able to gain some credibility points at school... his ego and the balloon are still pretty well inflated, even now.
Meanwhile, Hattie has decided that she is going to be a designer. I took her to see the film Coco Chanel (starring the mildly attractive Audrey Tatou - who may well get pestered with text messages filled with double entendres in the near future) when we were in Melbourne (Wendy and George went to see Harry Potter). She seemed to enjoy the film, I thought she might have been put off by the subtitles but I think she was more perturbed by the kissing. Anyway, She now wants to design and make her own clothes - I fear for the safety of our curtains, bed covers, and pool blanket.
Well that's all for now, I'll be back soon to tell you more about Melbourne, Rugby League and western Australian dance schools. In fact I'll be back before you can work out what Rolf sings if you play the classic 'Jake the Pegg' backwards.
Regards
H
By the way, I was listening to the best of Frank Sinatra whilst writing this. doo be doo be doo.