What time is it?
It’s Sunday. The clocks have changed. And I’ve got some chocolate brownies in the oven. I might think about doing a bit of sewing in a minute. But then I might not.
I switch on the radio – still more on Jeremy Clarkson. I peruse twitter – I see a photo of David Cameron next to Katie Hopkins. I get to thinking about the question my niece asked me recently, ‘ Aunt Izzy, are Jeremy Clarkson and Katie Hopkins married?’ No idea where she got that idea from. Now if she’d said Katie Hopkins and David Cameron, then you’d be talking. After all, they’re in a picture. Together. You can see them. But Katie and Jeremy ( no need for surnames. I feel as if I know them)? Really Sophie. I turn on the TV, just while I’m waiting for my brownies, to learn that Jodie Kidd might be a contender for the JC crown. JK. JC. Close.
Before I know what’s happened, I find myself pulled into this Big Top Gear circus. Jodie Kidd? Nah. Not close enough. That’s not going to work. But if not Jodie Kidd, then who? Who has feet big enough to step into JC’s ludicrously gargantuan Claude Hopper shoes? Then the moment of genius strikes.
David Beckham. He’s the One. The TG Saviour. Move aside JC, Golden Balls is here.
If only the BBC could get him.
My mind turns to other possibilities from the ‘National Treasure’ stable. Inspiration strikes a second time.
What about Miranda? You know. Miranda Hart. She’s looking for a change… I think of Sandi Toksvig, then give myself a stiff talking to. Now I’m just being silly.
But if Top Gear were to lose not only JC himself, but also James May and Richard Hammond? What then? I ask myself. Think, think, think think think.
I rack my brains and then I’ve got it! By golly, I do. What about French, Saunders and Lumley? Top Gear with an AbFab twist. Even I’d watch it then.
What time is it? What does it matter? I don’t even care about Top Gear. I decide not to waste any more of my life thinking about it.
Then a funny phrase just pops into my consciousness. ‘The king is dead. Long live the king.’ Never did understand what that meant.
Besides, Poldark is on later. All is well with the world.
Hell. I think I can smell burnt chocolate…
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