I found Gordon Ramsbotham-St John-Grimblethorpe mid-massage by eight of his handmaids in a luxurious Lanzarote destination I have promised never to reveal. He was face down, through the hole of the massage table, when we first spoke. I didn't have to probe for the material for this article and I was at no time expected to assist with the massage of his whale-like blubbery body. I simply asked Gordon Ramsbotham-St John-Grimblethorpe about his recent experience in attempting to buy his dream property and let my tape recorder run. This article is virtually a verbatim transcription of Gordon Ramsbotham-St John-Grimblethorpe's resulting rant.
Gordon Ramsbotham-St John-Grimblethorpe:
“Do you know how difficult it is finding the real dream property? Besides anything else you need a good few millions in the bank or available to you via an understanding and flexible mortgage company at a moment's notice. Even then, and let's be honest, this is rare, you have to find the property and seal the deal without some other so and so, rich rotter, stealing the deal from under your feet, gazumping you all the way to the blikin' bank.
Oh yes, tell your readers, tell poor people everywhere, you might think that you've got problems but you haven't lived until you've been filthy rich like me. Do you know I spent the whole season on various Florida Keys, living in 12 star hotels and still didn't manage to find the property I was after? Although, thankfully I managed to avoid sharing venues with Paris Hilton - I still had to put up with the rancid observations of Great Britain's ex Prime Minister Tony Blair every time I went for a swim. I didn't want to hear about his reasons for conspiring with George W to spend $3 trillion on messing up the planet or “the war” as he called it. I've enough problems of my own.
Soon after that I decided to check out the Canary Islands. There were three villas I found acceptable. They unfortunately belonged to Cilla Black, Robbie Williams and Dannii Manogue and none of them were prepared to sell. I offered them triple the independent valuations but still none of them would budge. First none of them would meet with me - just who did they think they were? Even when they did - I had to pay them for their time - they had some feeble excuse for not selling - stuff like “I'm happy here”, “I don't like moving” and “my family and friends like using my facilities”. Did they think my happiness was worth less than theirs is? Did they forget that I'd have to move too? What about my family and friends?”
I'm sorry to report, dear readers, that my interview with Gordon Ramsbotham-St John-Grimblethorpe was cut short at this crucial moment. The aforementioned whale-like blubber bellied man, struggled to turn over so that his big belly be primped, suffered a heart attack and died.
