When people read of the breakdown of my marriage, it wouldn’t be difficult for them to assume that another woman was involved, somewhere along the line. It’s a mistake anyone might make. As one of the leading newspaper columnists of my generation, I won’t pretend I haven’t had to fight off the attentions of a fair number of ‘groupies’ in my time. The very prospect of being pictured on my arm, leaving The Conti Club in Manchester, has enticed many a siren to her doom.
But I have always managed, somehow, to stay faithful to Mrs Blunt. Not for me the easy liaison with a blonde bimbo. I’ll leave that to any number of Greater Manchester football managers I could (and someday will) name. However, the cosy reality of my life has been shattered. Yesterday, I heard that my good wife has forsaken me, and fallen for the charms of a fishmonger from Ipswich.
I wouldn’t like to give the impression that I’m gutted (no pun intended) by the news. Avid readers of my blog will know that I have, for sometime, suspected that things between Mrs B and I have not been as convivial as they should have been. So, the fact that a haddock salesman had slid his way into the affections of my wife is not as distressing as it might be. From what my solicitor tells me, this fishy love affair has potentially saved me many thousands of pounds in settlement fees. Not to mention, drastically reducing the Blunt household bill for kippers.
I must admit, I was worried what might happen to the considerable assets that had accumulated during out marriage. The prospect was real that Mrs B could claim that she had been ‘the power behind the throne’. The income from my forthcoming autobiography (‘Fatha, Get The Coals In’ – Lacklustre Press – available shortly from all good booksellers, and one or two that aren’t very good at all) was under threat.
Now, thanks to Tommy Fishfinger from Ipswich, it seems I have been saved that expense. I hope they are very happy together. I hope I’m not too old, or too unattractive, to start my life anew. There are plenty more fish in the sea, Mrs B. And I, for one, don’t mind in the least if they are aren’t scaled and cleaned, before I net them…
12 comments:
Ahh the Conti Club. That was where, as an innocent suburaban lad, I discovered that the gents toilets were considered by some to be a venue for romantic encounters. They were very cross indeed when interrupted by a young man full of beer wanting to use the facilities for their more usual purpose.
And the fishmonger... what fun there is to be had there with puns!
I should imagine there are also plenty more fishmongers in the sea, too.
Ah the Conti Club!!! Been many a time in my younger days (post divorce)... I couldn't tell you how to get there but when completely P*%$£d had no trouble at all... don't think I ever paid to get in either (secret was to find a fireman or police officer to get you in for free)
Any way .. sorry to hear that you and Mrs B have made that big life decision .... she certainly has had her head turned with the promise of fresh fish.
Have fun galivanting ... its time for old dog (no offence) and new tricks me thinks :-)
It sounds as if 70's is available Mr Blunt - only an idea.
Crofty - my own memories of visiting the gents at the Conti usually involved err ... wading.
Julian - your fraternal support is always appreciated.
70s teen - perhaps we met? I only ever visited the place for background research, of course. And Mrs B never knew.
daddyp - Strange you mention it: I had, in my mind, lined up young Jasper for a date with 70s teen sometime. It's time he was encouraged to fly the nest, and I'm hoping that his mother's disappearance with the fish-gutter will act as the spur to moving on.
Excuse me you two..... what is this 'Blind Date' or something????
Don't take offence, 70s teen... Jasper is a fine lad, who brushes up quite nicely when he's had a haircut.
No visual impairment is required, I can assure you.
Perhaps you could start with a coffee sometime?
Must re read some back issues on here about young J's habits before I commit to even the slightest whiff of a coffee bean in his company !!!
Must say I do like a man that scrubs up well ;-) (lol)
My Dearest Bill, At first I must confess, I thought this was just another of your witty and funny ways of drawing us into your vacation and its lack of fun or something....., But now my Dear friend, I must confess, I really am saddened at the thought of you and Mrs. Blunt being apart. I will say this , I feel for you, I will be here if you need a shoulder and I always send you my best regards....
Hugs my Dear Man!!!!
Peace!
hope your new mermaid turns up soon bill. I suspect she will
Ah, beware the fishmonger...
Although a blessing in disguise it most certainly is..
However, my advice to you Bill is that you make sure your net is in good order...
The wife???
Bill Blunt is an English bad-boy bachelor and don't you forget it...
keep on keepin' on
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