The other day I spent half an hour trawling the internet for pictures of the former Shah of Iran. Apparently, according the corner shop man from Iran and his brother, the former Shah and I share a striking resemblence.
I won't be visiting Isreal any time soon then. However, I couln't find one scrap of evidence to support this anecdotal mayonnaise so I have rejected the comparison. I'm still not going to Isreal though, I'm just less apparently opposed to not going. I mean I wouldn't want my appearance to spark off a disturbance, it wouldn't be the first time.
Actually, now that I think of it, the corner shop man looks like an Iranian Jimmy Greaves, watching him and me talk must be like watching the Iranian Twilight Zone, in colour. (by the way; I'm not Iranian, I just have a habit of staring at people)
It's a shame in a way. Why can't I look like the other one? The one that pronounces fatwahs and jihads, that would be much more fun, better than that Voodoo Golf nonsense anyway.
Still, that's another Sunday afternoon, more tea anyone?