New York Diary

Thirsty 30th Augustus 2012 AD

I rose at 4.17am. I was very excited about going to New York. I dropped my motor car off at the aerodrome, them consumed four bacon rolls and a Bloody Mary before 6am! On the airship to Paris, they gave me a breakfast roll with cold sausage and egg in it. It was slightly peculiar. I pretended it was delicious, though, as it was my special day. When I got to Paris it was time almost immediately to board the next craft. Open Skies is a very nyce and funny airline. It is very posh. It is a narrow-bodied 757 jet and reminds one of Concorde or flying in the 50s. I sat in the last row by the window, which was very noisy and exciting. After luncheon, I fell asleep for many hours, then watched a depressing film with Colin Firth, called A Single Man. The cast all did an admirable job with a script that superficially was good, but on another level was just ludicrous. The plot was more or less as follows. Colin Firth is depressed because his boyfriend is dead and has a series of flashbacks for the benefit of the viewer, then meets up with an attractive young straight man who turns out to be gay after all and then the gay man shows his penis to Colin Firth (but not the viewer, annoyingly) but Colin takes no action with the penis and they both fall asleep (separately) and then Colin Firth dies and is reunited with his boyfriend’s ghost and we never find out what happens to the gay young man as the film is over baybayyyyyyyyy.

Two conversations occurred today which made me think about my life. First, the nyce French man at Orly Aerodrome questioned why I was flying to New York via Paris. I wanted to explain that I like taking off and landing and all the excitement of flying and that if I flew straight there it would be good but not as good and that I have a childlike enjoyment of travel and whatnot. However, it was easier just to say that the booking was a mistake made by my disastrous worker, Aaron Kilkenny-Sletcher. It is always easier to blame Aaron. Later, upon arriving at Newark Airfield, an immigration officer questioned why I was staying an extra day in New York after my meetings, all on my own, when I knew no one in the city and had no wife etc. I wanted to explain that when I was three years old I used to spend hours playing on my own, designing space rockets that I could use to fly to distant planets and that my life is now a realisation of those times, a lifetime of flying about on aeroplanes and writing silly ideas in my book and designing, not rockets, but new comedy acts. At the moment I am working on the next generation madness, a comedy act that is entirely meaningless and pointless. I also wished to point out to him that I have a highly sociable life, meeting many audience members and many friends. I am going to Mauritius next week, and will be staying with my friends and it will be very social. I wanted to point out to him that a day on my own would make a welcome relief from the constant socialising, and, indeed, that a day and a bit is about my limit anyway, and, indeed, that social activities are planned during that time anyway. I also wished to point out to him that I am a member of the international jetset, and this is what I do. However, there was not time to go into all those details, so I simply said it was an administrative erreur by my staff member, Aaron Gilkenny-Sketcher. It is always easiest to blame Aaron. When I got to my ‘otel, which was very nice, and one of the few things that Aaron has ever got right, I fell asleep for 1.5 hours. When I woke up, on the spurt of the moment I decided to dine at a top restaurant called WD50, that I had read about in the magazine in my room. I had a 7 course banquet and met a physician, which we would call a docteur, from Tampon, Florida, and his wife, called PJ (that is the name of the physician, not the wife) (PJ is short for Pyjama – perhaps PJ is a relation of my friend, Pyjama O’Reilly). After the meal, I was drunken on the fine wines and got homo to my ‘otel by an unknown method. I fell asleep into a slumber induced by the top-quality grapes. As I lay there, I had a revelation – I MUST RID MYSELF OF ALL MY STAFF.


Flyday 31st Augustus 2012 AD

In the evening I attended a concèrt of Bach and Buxtehude and other dead people, which was arranged for me by my slave, Aaron, and it’s one of the few things he has ever got right. I also queued for special free tickets for the Museum of Modern Art, then declined to enter the museum. That’s what I call modern art. I did not dine today, as I existed purely on motets and concepts.


Saturnday 1st Septet 2012 AD

Today was another ‘ot day. It was in the 90s. I went to Central Park, which is a bit like Regents Park or Green Park in London, the difference is it is much more crowded, and there is a lot of people constantly shouting, and you are never far from the terrible strains of a poorly played saxophone, and there are disagreeable people going through bins. Later, I followed my worker’s instructions and attended the Cork Buzz wine class and learnt about white wines of the Loire region and drank six wines and consumed east coast and west coast oysters and chicken confit and it was very nyce and one of the few things that Aaron has ever got right and on my way homo I met three men called Owen, Callum und Scott who were from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and knew me from showbizness and we went up the Empire State Building and then I went to bed at 1am.

Sundae 2nd Septet 2012 AD

I went to John Frederick Kennedy aerodrome on a train that I could pretend to drive and had two Bloody Marys and did some writing and then I went in an airship to Boston and the people at New York said, you could have flown straight from New York to London, and I said “Don’t be silly. You cannot fly from New York to London. You must go via Boston.” And then I got on another plane and had Champagne Moutard, and then I had warm mixed nuts and marinated cheese antipasti, and then I had smoked salmon and ‘erb marinated shrimp, and then I had fresh seasonal greens and an assortment of fresh vegetables with caesar dressing, and then I had assorted gourmet breads from the gourmet bread basket, and then I had chipotle miso cod, seared and miso glazed cod fillet accompanied by a lemon and red chilli pepper aioli and asparagi spears, which is a signature Richard Sandoval item, and then I had vanilla ice cream with butterscotch sauce, and then I had creamy fruit yoghurt and Kellogg’s cereal with milk and a selection of breakfast breads from the breakfast bread basket and seasonal exotic fruits and my choice of beverage and a pre-arrival beverage of chilled sparkling water with a fresh citrus garnish, which I hated, and sherry (that was earlier), and then I landed at Heathrow aerodrome and it was


Monday 3rd Septet 2012 AD

which I forgot to mention earlier.

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