Dear Jayne Middlemiss…

Dear Jayne,

Would you be willing to fight a Kraken? I ask only because if the answer is ‘yes’, then I will take it as given that you would be brave enough to clean my oven. I’m free Thursday, as ever.

Yours,
—
Herbert Rumbelow

Dear Jay-Z…

Dear Jay-Z,

At last count I had 736 Post-it® notes gummed to the area that surrounds my desk. The vast majority of these contain snippets of ideas for inventions (such as The Ham Holder), details of recipes (‘do not question quantities of milk’) and experiences I wish to have one day (e.g. racing a coracle, or visiting The Isle of Sheppey). One of these Post-it® notes however, reads as follows:

Would Jay-Z be any good at scalextric?

I imagine you have never played this most wholesome of automotive games (unlike my friend George, who has racked up over 10,000 hours of track time) but I would like to invite you to give it a go. On boxing day George will be building a recreation of Italy’s Monza circuit and I would love you to join us. We will also be having scones. If mother doesn’t recover form her fall you are even welcome to stay the night before. Do let me know!

Yours
—
Herbert Rumbelow

Dear Bono…

Dear Bono,

Please stop offering to wash my windows.

Yours
—
Herbert Rumbelow

Dear Kate Middleton…

Dear Kate,

With today’s announcement that you are to be wed to HRH William Esq I am sure you’ll soon be in need of a veil. My friend George (a man who owns two top hats, but not one pair of braces) has offered to help you source that veil, and has asked me to negotiate a contract for the item. Assuming that you agree to have your wedding veil supplied in this manner (it will NOT be soiled), I outline the terms of the agreement below:

1. The veil will be made of materials other than coconut husk, wool and yoghurt
2. The veil will be no more than 5 cm in thickness, and at least three square inches in area
3. The veil will be visible
4. At no time should the veil be left unattended, or the terms of this contract are null and/or void
5. You may sit for fittings of the veil on rainy days ONLY

Payment may be in the form of money, stamps or seats at Wimbledon.

Should you have any questions, do pass them on and I will be sure to relay them to George.

Yours
—
Herbert Rumbelow

Dear Francis Ford Coppola…

Dear Francis,

As a man with ears, I assume you often find yourself wondering the same thing as I: what else could they be used for? My friend George and I spent most of this afternoon discussing just this topic, and we decided – after some brief googling – that you would be keen to hear our findings.

So, without further ado, here is our list of 5 alternate uses for ears (you may use this as the basis of a script, but only if you lend George some of your favourite box-sets, and don’t intend to ask for them back).

1. Shadow puppets
2. Hooks, for onions
3. A nest for an incredibly small, and friendly, bee
4. If removed entirely from the head and flattened, an ear would make an OK coaster
5. Tracing an accurate drawing of anything entirely, or nearly ear shaped

Yours
—
Herbert Rumbelow

Dear Fernando Alonso and Mark Webber…

Dear Fernando and/or Mark,

Tomorrow you go head-to-head in a showdown for the Formula 1 World Championship, but when the tarmac cools and the man who drills your tyres on is soaking in Radox™, which one of you will emerge as the victor? Fernando with his manta-ray hips, or Mark with his steak-jammed abdomen? I don’t know, only Bernie Ecclestone knows that, but I do know this: two men who come together on the track, cannot invest in property together. I should know…

In the late eighties I worked as a butcher (my speciality was haunches). One Summer, I delivered a casket of 150 Toulouse sausages to Donnington race course. They were to be lunched upon by clergymen. While there I was offered a swift lap of the track by Gordon, a gentleman janitor. It was exhilirating, and I soon returned often to race with Gordon while clergymen ate their lunch. After several months, Gordon and I were enjoying a lemonade post session, when he asked if I’d like to enter into an arrangement with him. His offering? The purchase of a subsiding bungalow near Harwich. Gordon told me the land was worth a substantial sum, and were we to buy the property and knock it down (he was keen to do this himself, using a hire car) we would make enough to pay for a ‘Pauper’s Parade’ – no Fernando, I never understood the reference either. I was intrigued, and after a period of consultation with friends, family and my dentist, I took the plunge investing all the money I had made trading BOAC shares in my teens. Needless to say, the project failed. We couldn’t sell the house, and it materialised that with 6 points on his license Gordon found hire car fees to be prohibitively expensive. We eventually flipped the bungalow to a property developer called G. G. Staffles who, rather bizarrely, turned it into a short lived truffle museum. He died soon after, and his estate let the property perish at the hands of weasels, stoats and other ferrel (but crucially local) beasts.

So, you see ‘nando and Mark, this is a tale of caution. Whatever happens on the racing circuit, and whatever may happen over a brandy in the paddock later, don’t get involved in property together, I beg of you. I wouldn’t want to see either of you struggle with mortgage forms only to be disappointed. That’s a fate I wish only on Chris Tarrant.

Best of luck for tomorrow.

Yours,
—
H Rumbelow

Dear James Blunt…

Dear James,

Here’s a conundrum for you: how much Colgate would it take to kill a man?
I await your answer with interest.

Yours
—
Herbert Rumbelow

A quick recap…

As outlined yesterday, I did not pause in my correspondence with celebrities during my time away from this site. I have therefore reproduced three typical examples of emails sent in the last few months as a way to bridge the gap in my output. I trust you will enjoy them!

 

Dear Kim Kardashian…

I, along with my friend George (a man who named the most fertile of his breeding Chinchillas ‘Kim K’) have recently been discussing our favourite games to play in the home. Mine, as I’m sure you’ll be unsurprised to hear, is that most classic of strategy titles ‘Kerplunk’. George however opts for a different tack in enjoying a pass at Mediterranean Hide and Seek (he is unclear on what makes his version Mediterranean).

What is your favourite domestic game? If it is relevant, would you also like me to carve a special playing piece from a now defunct brooch of my mothers? It is non-toxic.

Yours,
—
Herbert Rumbelow

---

Dear Paul Scholes…

Why so grumpy?

Yours,
—
Herbert Rumbelow

---

Dear Justin Bieber…

As a keen volunteer with the local Rainbows group, I have found myself having many a conversation about you, your hair and your princely charm. Indeed the conversations have become so prevalent, that I have sought to save time by calling you simply ‘J-Beeb’. Do you approve? If not what would you prefer? I have outlined some options below as inspiration:

• Justy B
• Jibber
• Biebles

Yours,
—
Herbert Rumbelow

It’s been a long time…

So, dear reader, I am back. After many months away from the online world, I have managed to claw my way back to the keyboard and am committing to a much healthier output as we see out 2010, and embrace 2011 AD.

Now, I could bore you with news of my travails over the past year, but I think it not important. Suffice to say, I have no lasting ill effects of the various oddities that kept me from this blog, and I’m fairly sure I’ll be able to get a decent price for most of the associated equipment in local markets. There, let it rest.

During my break, I have continued to pen letters to my favourite celebrities and indeed enjoyed some brief correspondence with the PA of one of Westminster’s more colourful characters. In a bid to broaden my horizons however, I have developed a number of other outlets for my musings, and I will now start sharing these in the ‘social media’ as far as I can. More on this in the coming weeks.

Before I sign off, I want to share with you one of the Christmas Cracker jokes I have running through the production mill for this year. You may recall back in 2007 I shared some of my gags, well neither were commissioned, but that hasn’t dissuaded me from continuing to submit. In 2008 I sent over 1,000 jokes to the International Academy of Cracker Jokes. None were used. In 2009 I submitted the same jokes again with both the same, and alternate punchlines. One was used (but later retracted for legal reasons). Taking a different approach, I have submitted one this year. If you see this drop into Grandmother’s lap on December 25th, remember where you saw it first…

What language does Santa speak?
The language of glove