Here’s a fun game you can play with friends if you’re slightly inebriated: if somebody famous comes up in conversation, why not write them a letter by committee, a word at a time each?
This evening, for example, four of us produced the following email for 90s child prodigies Hanson, after downloading their perrenial hit “Mmmbop” (that is how it’s spelt).
Subject: Your song is quite
Dear dear alarmingly high-pitched,
Having you tantalises our long alarmingly receptive eardrums. We mmmbop infinitely; however, under us your exceptionally dulcet vocal imaginative melody is quite quiveringly improvable. Particularly in the seventh bar whereupon inside our hearts, alarmingly almost, we lost absolute musical poise and sounded derectionlessly sorry.
Yours moistly, girlishly and James.
And ceaselessly, amen.
Now, it’s not the greatest email ever, but it does demonstrate quite how important it is to put somebody in charge of the punctuation.
It put me in mind of an occasion about a year ago when somebody called James made me a Nigella Lawson bread and butter pudding, except that instead of bread it recommended the use of stale pain au chocolat. In fact James admitted that he used fresh pain au chocolat, but it still tasted jolly good and inspired the following epistle:
We both wish to write to tell you what fun we had with your absolutely positively good motherfucking recipe which we must tell you was frankly the tops. No mean achievement! What you have done must count among the top recipes ever written by human beings in our country. To begin – the “pain” was not only stale, but slightly hardened as was the cream. What we wanted to do was put our faces into your general face to tell you how much we enjoyed eating your face.
Believe us, dear Nigella, when we inform you of our undying desire to eat your face every minute of the day, we remain slightly inebriatedly insincere.
P.S. Eat “pain” and live long and prosperously.
Yours in Christo
James and James
P.P.S. You must remember to cook all night or else we’ll be round to put a big smile on your “pain” of “chocolat”. Ever in undying Cambridge affection, without any real trace of irony or insincerity or salubriousness or resentment and without proper care, except for the minute that we pit our wits to find the newest and biggest words to employ to express our devoted satisfaction,
Ever in infatuation,
Christo – only we joke, slightly, of spiritual overweeningness for we are frail and prone to fall into sin.
Sadly, in our word-at-a-time frenzy we omitted to put an address at the top of the letter, so have never discovered Nigella’s response. Let’s hope for better luck with Hanson.