I'm very sorry to hear about his death today. Apparently he hadn't been in good health since he had an accident on a quad bike ten years ago. We've lost a good one there.
There was a chap on PM today (you'll find it here, if you want to listen to the programme), who had worked with Rik on The New Statesman. He said that after his accident Rik couldn't really remember the show.
It was my favourite thing that he did. He was so marvellously horrible that I rather fancied him. Was I the only one?
I once went to see The New Statesman being filmed. It was good to be in the audience for it, but I don't remember the show. The thing I remember was that the warm-up man came on before and said he hoped there was no-one in the audience sitting with someone they shouldn't be, because the cameras would soon be rolling.
I was sitting with someone I shouldn't have been.
I mean I wasn't. He was just a friend, who had bought me tickets to go see the show being filmed, because he knew I liked the show. I wasn't cheating on my boyfriend or anything. Except of course I was, or rather, I was about to.
So I sat under a weirdly exciting black cloud of guilt throughout that show, and Rik Mayall was ever after, to me, associated with the guilty thrill of cheating.
I wouldn't cheat nowadays. I've learned what it can do. It's only fun for a few minutes, and then someone loses an eye.
I am starting my #10grumpydays challenge (a bit of balance for all these happy days) on Saturday 14th June. Care to join me? For 10 days you take a pic of something that makes you grumpy, and you share it on Facebook or Instagram (or both) with the hashtag #10grumpydays.
The book challenge
Words at 7/6/14 - 85,000.
45,500 words done since the challenge began, 11,500 last month.
Where I'm at in First Draft - Chapter 20.
What I did last - Killed the love triangle mwa ha ha.