Wednesday, 3 July 2013
(shamefacedly I hadn't realised Woman's Weekly still existed & was immediately reminded of the line 'beat me on the bottom with my Woman's Weekly' from a song by Victoria Wood!)
Saturday, 7 August 2010
This week's illustration is brought to you by the 'Carry On Book Of Hospital Waiting Room Clichés'...
(Article by Michael Holden)
On first inspection, the local surgery appears to have a good selection of magazines. It's only when you try to read them that you discover half the people in the waiting room were born after they came out. Having perhaps learned the same lesson, a man near to me refused an offer of a Woman's Weekly from his wife, recoiling so visibly that you wondered if such a pathological reaction was why they had come.
Woman "What's up?"
Man "I just … I can't look at 'em any more."
Woman (wearily) "Oh yeah, I forgot."
Man "They're full of … well, it's just shit, isn't it?"
He nodded toward the one she was reading.
Man "'Halle Berry's custody battle.' I mean, who cares, really? What good is that to you or me?"
Woman "I like her."
Man "That's not the point ..."
Woman (quickly) "Don't read it then."
Man "I don't. That's the thing. You turn your back on all that and pretty soon you don't know who's who. I quite like it. The bliss of ignorance. I looked at one the other day and I didn't recognise anyone. I felt sort of free. In the end there was a picture of Ruby Wax – I recognised her. I was quite pleased to see her. And I used to hate Ruby Wax."
Woman (not looking at him) "Yeah?"
Man (after a pause) "What's up with Halle Berry's kids then?"
Woman "Shut up and I may find out."
Man "I don't feel so well."
Woman (with extreme prejudice) "Don't you bloody start!"
He looked at me for consolation. I couldn't meet his gaze.