Ten ...err.. Eleven things I'd like to be remembered by
Life is short and fame is fleeting. If I want to get into the next life as something decent (I'm hoping to come back as a girls' bicycle saddle), I'd better start working on my account at the Bank of Karma. Looks like I've got a bit of work to do...
1. The unfortunate incident of the prime ministerial wedgie. Well - I never knew she wore incontinence pants.
2. That three-up with Mother Teresa and Princess Di. Before they were famous.
3. My camerawork on the moon landings.
4. My Royal Warrant: "Supplier of live rodents to HM the Queen".
5. The Nobel Prize for eradicating the scourge of Dhobi's Itch from the underpants of the world.
6. Composing the ice cream van jingle that inspired "Do they know it's Christmas".
7. Writing the infamous last episode of the Flintstones, where evolution and a hungry sabre-toothed tiger finally catch up with Fred.
8. Author of the best-selling pamphlet "What to do when you return from 'travelling' in India - a gap-year student's guide". Full text: "Shut up about it, you boring cunt."
9. Brought the word "flunge" into common usage.
10. The Victoria Cross awarded for running into the middle of Cornwall, shouting "You're a bunch of in-bred wankers!" and escaping with my life.
11. The tracking down, chastising, torturing and killing of those behind the new South West Trains timetable, leaving their broken bodies rotting on the streets of Fallujah. Defence: justifiable homocide.
*The wobble of flesh that protrudes between the waistband of hipster trousers and the hem of a too-short t-shirt. Barely acceptable in normal circumstances, rendered X-certificate outside a fish and chip shop at the seedy end of town.