Airports

The chaps at Heathrow have been having a few problems lately. I think the media's attitude has been most unfair. I only travel by private jet, of course but if one is not so fortunate as I (which will apply to almost all of you, of course!) then you simply must accept a few lost bags. It's not the end of the world, is it? It is certainly unfair to blame the my good friend Willie, who is only the Chief Executive of BA after all. He can't go and sort the bags himself, you know!

I was discussing the subject with my old friend Lionel today. Can you believe that he wasn't very sympathetic to BA at all! But then the poor old chap has been bit down on his luck lately, I am sorry to relate; it seems that he's having some 'liquidity problems' if you know what I mean. Well, the divorce has been expensive. The court took a dim view of his 'snooker lessons' from the British Women's Open champion. Apparently he spent all his time trying to pot the pink. I'm starting to worry if the stress is getting to him. I took him to lunch and he afterwards he asked if he could bum me for twenty pounds! I declined, as you can imagine. We all know where that sort of thing leads, don't we – welfare dependency!

Before I go, I have to apologise to one of my readers who misunderstood one of my recent posts when I told the story of the time my veterinarian recommended that my cat needed pills, which were to be taken as suppositories. I advised that I found that you could make a modest saving on vets bills by using a biro to push them up yourself. Mrs. Handcart, I apologise most profusely for the misunderstanding. I hope you are sitting more comfortably now and that the surgical cushion I sent you is helping. I must say, though, that your letter of complaint was very difficult to read!