The Fabulous Adam Richard


I have had a goatee or other beardy arrangement since 2001, when I turned 30. The main reason was the aftermath of a play in which I was cast as Donatella Versace. Playing a woman is a painful, depilatory, foot-binding, stilt-walking horror that I never want to experience again. Also, my fat face does not show as many signs of ageing as a thin one would, and I was forever being mistaken for a 20-something flibbertigibbet -- when I really wanted to be taken seriously as a mature thirty-year-old.

Limpy III - The Search for Socks

Right, so I can get a surgeon to cut my toe open and pop a steel rod in it, or I can just hobble around with sticky tape holding my toes together for a few weeks and hope for the best. I may have some arthritic pain once it heals (the fracture of my little toe is through two bones across a joint) which may or may not be circumvented by shoving steel into my foot. Then again, a foreign body in my poor little toe may cause an infection, and is the cure going to be worse than the slight discomfort I have now?

Shame, David Hughes, Shame!

Earlier this morning, David Hughes, who has been a friend and a colleague for many years, posted the following to twitter:

DHughesy i ate a bowl of all bran type product, 2 scoops of yoghurt & cup of skim milk. ps i am gay

Limpy II - The Philanges of Khan

X-ray says it's a fracture. Well, two fractures, to be precise. I seem to have smashed apart two separate tiny bones in my smallest toe. I routinely put 130kg of homosexual pressure on it (yes, I sometimes walk en pointe) and it copes fine! I wonder if there was a little corpuscle down there screaming "Captain! She canna take any more!"

Tomorrow, in the continuing saga of Limpy, what does the specialist say? Strap it or shove a stick in it? Will I end up with borg-foot?


I think I may have fractured my toe. That's what the doctor tells me, anyway. It hurts! I smashed it into a wall on Monday night, dashing into the en suite to expel some beer. I put an ice pack on it, and given the hideous heat this week, it was quite an enjoyable sensation. I could move it, so I thought nothing of it and trundled off to work in the morning.

Yesterday, and today, I've wandered around. I've been to the shops. It ached a bit, and I've been limping a little, but no worse than any other time I've stubbed my stumpy toes.

Then, this afternoon, I banged it AGAIN!

Sweet Caroline Stuck In My Head



Someone foolishly alerted me to the existence of the Glee soundtrack, so of course, I am now singing Don't Stop Believing, I Can't Fight This Feeling, Take a Bow and fourteen other songs at the top of my lungs in traffic.

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