That's just my kind of humour, what a lark!
I, too, detest those round robin newsletters, I mean, who on earth gives the tiniest mouse sized shite about the absolute minutiae of some distant acquaintance's life. Why the hell would you want to know about Tarquin's sudden liquorice allergy which led to 6 months on a life-support machine, even though he's now recovered enough to communicate using a series of blinks? Or Ariadne's brief marriage to a chap who turned out to be a serial killer who had left his last wife in bin bags in seven different counties? Or young Aristotle's address to the Wisbech Allotment Group which garnered 2 lines on page 63 of Turnip Grower's Weekly? Or Scheherazade's engagement to Luther Von Thongcreek, the much admired President of Burton-on-Trent's Transvestite Support Alliance? Or the very amusing misinterpretation of Montague's thesis on Osama Bin Laden which led to him spending 11 months as a prisoner in Guantanamo Bay, though he's alright now as long as someone holds his hand while he goes to sleep and sings a verse or two of We'll Gather Lilacs In The Spring again in order to convince him that eating weetabix is not an arrestable offence? Such boring trivialities...
