An irregular, irreverent, post-modern account of the surreal, the ordinary, and the bizarre happenings on and around the Felia lavender farm in Crete

Tuesday, May 09, 2006


They had just dropped Kelly off at the airport and were enjoying a quiet glass of wine when Abby suddenly remarked that she had found an odd thing with regards the case of the nocturnal visits of Dick Detective. "You know you were convinced that this other writers name was Lez or Liz or Laz ? Well, something rang a bell in all that. Like we should know this guy or that we've met him or something similar. So, this morning, when you were at the shops getting the provisions in I went trawling through address books and the like. I even went back through your blog entries. Nothing. Not a thing. But yet I was convinced and so I ended up ploughing back through old emails and ... bingo! I found out why his "name" was familiar." Gilbert gulped, he had been convinced that he was the only one capable of computer forensics, how she had managed not only to search such huge amounts of information unaided but that she had turned up something useful shocked him in the same way as one of the dogs actually coming when called always managed to shock him. "Do you remember," she resumed, having observed his discomfiture, "a year or more back when we got that odd email about someone accusing you of having stolen their idea for a novel? December 2004 it turns out it was: the 19th in fact. Well, I went back and I found the email - it was from Brian your then head of department - and there was a link in there to the blog entry where this crazy guy in black face was claiming that you had stolen his novel or "eaten his lunch" as he also put it. Guess what his name was?". "Brian? O'Nolan of course, you remember Brian." "No, lemon, not Brian - the loon in black face - the complainant? It was Papalaz but I went on, reading more of his blog, and I have to tell you the guy seems more than a tad unhinged even if he is talented, well anyway it turns out that he sometimes refers to himself as "The Laz" - now is that interesting or what?" "You my dear sweet thing are one very clever girl," he enthused. "And you", she responded quickly, "are a very lucky man Dave".

(to be continued ... )


  1. This is beginning to remind me of a cross between Belacca and Denis Potter!

  2. Who is this Belacca of whom you speak? Potter I know - and my mum had psoraisis too!