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Monday October 7th
Rang my solicitor, David Barwell, on the way to work. His secretary, Angela, said, 'Mr Barwell is busy having an asthma attack due to the new carpet that has been fitted over the weekend.'
I advised her to expect a correspondence from Mark B'astard regarding the lease on Unit 4, The Old Battery Factory, Rat Wharf, Grand Union Canal, Leicester.
She said bitterly, 'I shan't bother telling Mr Barwell. It's me that does all the work. All he does is sit behind his desk and fiddle with his inhaler.'
Adrian Mole's pen is scribbling for the twenty-first century. Working as a bookseller and living in Leicester's Rat Wharf; finding time to write letters of advice to Tim Henman and Tony Blair; locked in mortal combat with a vicious swan called Gielgud; measuring his expanding bald spot; and trying to escape the clutches of Marigold and win-over her voluptuous sister Daisy...
Adrian still yearns for a better more meaningful world. And he's not ready to surrender his pen yet... |
