Nun of your bizness

The Northern man who shares my bed started coughing at 3.30 a.m..
‘Orrible it was.
Whilst he expectorated I turned to BELLERUTH NAPERSTEK. No she wasn’t sharing our bed, I have a series of her cassette tapes. How to sleep, reduce stress, diminish anxiety and divorce your husband all with a flick of a switch.
I ended up falling asleep with the head-phones on, when I awoke I had a large round impression on my cheek it looked like I had been branded with a Sony hot iron.
The news woke me at 7.00.
My PT Instructress was arriving at 7.30, so I had 30 minutes to tie my trainers, brush my teeth, wash my face and get rid of the ring of Sony.
I half hoped that my gym mistress wouldn’t turn up, the rain was teeming down and I felt like silage.

In the event she buzzed herself in at 8.00. We had a drink, talked about health and fitness, did a pile of conditioning exercises on the carpet then braved the morning air.
The elementals were kind to us, not one drop of rain fell as we ran towards Battersea Bridge – no sign of my Italian either – and as my heart rate climbed the sun decided to spread a ray or two.
By 10.10 the acting ‘oosbind had motorbiked off to Hackney and my personal trainer headed off to the train.
I prepared myself for Tuesdays extravaganza and headed off to Latimer Road.
Getting into LBC is really dodgy at the moment. Roadworks make for a turgid judder, the journey now takes twice as long until Earls Court looms. I hate being late as does Mr. Chris Lowrie who pointed his finger and raised his eyebrows last week when I rolled in at 11.45. Let me tell you however perfectly formed the Lowrie is his raised eyebrow is not something to be encouraged.
11.15 saw me entering the 2nd floor office, dumping my bag, logging onto my computer and conversing with my producer. After Mr.Steve Campen has talked me through the days running order, given me ideas, revealed his extensive knowledge of EVERYTHING, I go up to the 3rd floor and talk a wee bit with James O’Brien. Only for two weeks James O’Brien is James Max as James O’Brien is on paternity leave with his second baby daughter.
Today Mr. Max was interviewing Kate Hoey from the Labour Party who was approached by Boris Johnson from the Tory Party to assist him as Mayor should he win this Thursdays election. I’m actually very excited about having a vote. I haven’t voted in London for 24 years. On Thursday the Northern spouse will accompany me as we cast our ballots together. I do believe a couple who vote together stay together, that’s assuming they both have a sympathetic understanding of each others views. My husband’s lungs may leave a lot to be desired but his politics are impeccable.
The over-running of Ms Hoey meant I was ditched so I spent longer over lunch.
I always sit at a long wooden table with the Mr’s Campen and Lowrie.
They share their home made lunch whilst I dig into my mountain of salad and today, 6 little scampi pieces.
Mr. Lowrie said I never write about him on my blog, so just to show that I’m true to my word here’s a little about the man himself.
He’s very nice is Mr. Lowrie….
Is that enough?
Good..
After a really interesting show I spent an hour in a traffic jam getting to my acupuncturist who gave me such a deep treatment I could hear myself snoring….
My two little roomies are leaving sooner than expected. I was very sad when they told me. As I write they are slowly packing up their bits and bobs and checking out. By next week my daughter and her beau will take up residency. Now that will be interesting. Of course you will be the first to know.
Today we discussed The Church of England’s policy on women Bishops and Priests. I called the ‘C of E’ bods ‘BODS’ and got one listener really hot under his dog-collar.
Which reminded me of the two nuns in the car. A white van man drove into the back of them. As the two Sisters jolted forward the first Nun grabbed her Rosary and said to the second nun ‘Show him your cross.’
At which the Nun jumped out of the car, grabbed her Rosary and said to the errant driver.
‘What the b$%%2y ‘ell are you playing at.’
Made me laugh.
I shall really miss Humphrey Littleton. Radio can seep into your bones.
Thank you lot for listening I do enjoy your contributions.
Enough.
cusoon.