If I were you Rupert

I’m having one of those I wish I was Rupert Murdock weekends. I’ve been trying to post some Christmas photos but have received absolutely no assistance at all from Blogspot or their Google masters. “Buy Blogspot and burn it” I imagine my Rupert self commanding, “and bring me the ashes on antique silver within the hour” I fantasize. Then of course the fantasy gets derailed as I imagine such wealth and the lusciously indolent lifestyle I would indulge with it, right out of character with Rupert who by my estimation works much too hard. Power is delicious as I can easily imagine when fantasising sacking my boss after first forcing him to dive naked into a pigs wallow but I really think that I would come into my own, achieve my forte so to speak, spending wealth rather than exercising the power thereof. So perhaps Rupert is not who I would wish to be after all though I would certainly appreciate having a bit more control over my life than I find I do. On Sunday I saw an advertisement in this weekends Spectrum headed ‘Accommodation for students wanted’ and read on to appreciate that there was a market out there among rich Singaporean and Bengalese students for my spare room. Yesterday at lunch I mentioned this to Alice who saw it as a good revenue raiser for the proposed 09 family day in Tuscany and that night repeated it to Jack who much more in sync with the Ruperts of this world was on the phone that night with tips on presentations and an offer to display ads on his school notice board. After a night spent in dreams of foreign fortunes and their dispersal in equally foreign climes in an unusually cold light of dawn I stood in my newly conceived asset wondered about the king size bed (Stephen’s) and what other furnishings a student might need. Still pondering such things mid morning I took a call from Jane who had overnight conceived an ancestral connection between our family on the Byrne side and that of the reprobate actor Jack Thompson. Unable to contain news of my new good fortune I informed her of the great money making scheme and we disengaged with best wishes as telephone conservationists do. No sooner did I hang up than the phone again rang with greetings from Daryl from Richardson and Wrench (I wonder did Wrench start out as Richardson’s enforcer and thus become indispensable? Sounds so to me) my agents who wondered could he come by as Tony, the owner, was considering repairs or possibly selling. Funny isn’t it that the landlord, previously only Dr. A. Boyden on a lease is now as I face eviction on a first name basis. Now were I Rupert ( the more often I write it Rupert flows so much better than Robert, I may change my name) I would have no problem with this little inconvenience, indeed I would not even have this inconvenience and if I had one of my minions would have taken care of it long before it became my inconvenience. Do you think if I went to the Agent and explained that I was actually Rupert O’Keefe and that Robert was just a clerical error it might help? No.
Anyway another phone call has now broken my concentration and re-reading I note this is all silly. Suffice to say to those far away; I’ve got the pics and will blog them as soon as the clock around that exclamination mark street sign in Blogger continues past nine o’clock or due west to those unfamiliar with analogue clocks. Stay in touch and don’t forget to re-hydrate