WHO DO THEY THINK I AM?

Got a call this morning from a Casting Agent asking if I'd like to appear on this summer's Big Brother.

I mean, who do they think I am?  I know who I am, and so may you, but the agent had no idea.  Is she scraping the bottom of a very deep barrel, I asked her? Not at all, she flattered.  I saw you on a youtube clip and I thought you looked and sounded interesting.  Yes.  Well. Whatever.

Interesting I may be, but I simply could not share a bedroom and bathroom with a bunch of nobo-wannabees all vying for the cameras' attention.  For a start, I am never seen without full make-up and I reckon it would be tricky to try and do my face every morning in the dark beneath a duvet (that other people may have sat on, farted into or worse!)

So . . . I asked if I could have my own ensuite bedroom and bathroom sans cameras.  Guess what?  They declined!  How very dare they? 

I think they've missed a trick.  I could have set myself up as Big Sister, the visible, caring face of  BB who would organise the food, the cooking, the cleaning and counselling instead of the other contestants having to go crying to a faceless, disembodied voice while they wriggled awkwardly in a swanky chair in the Diary Tomb.

And it's not as if they were offering any money!  'Basic living essentials' whatever that means, like rent.  I should have told them I lived in a suite at The Dorchester - how basic is that?

The prize money is £100,000 but there are no guarantees no matter how one tries to sparkle, entertain, be worldly, womanly and wise.   And Gawd knows who I'd be sharing with. I don't watch Made in Essex or TOWIC and aren't they the celebrities, these days?

Anyhoo, like I've always said: you don't have to go to the party, but it is nice to be invited.

And it was.  I was secretly quite chuffed.  And maybe a bit shtoopid as it would be marvellous publicity for the upcoming 'THE TOYBOY DIARIES' musical currently in pre-production.

But . . . my children would have killed me and like I said earlier, I couldn't bear to share . . . so I'm sorry, dear reader, but you won't be seeing me on a screen near you this summer but you haven't heard the last of me, of that you can be sure ;)