Wednesday, 10 August 2011

No Deal

I’d love to have a million pounds.  Wouldn’t you?

I know some people who have more than just one million and their lives certainly seem to be more interesting than mine - not always happier, but certainly more exciting.

Money can take you places, buy you things and present you with new and wonderful experiences. It also gives you security - no more worrying about bills.  Bliss!

But as much as I want a ‘cool mill’ there are a few things I would most definitely not do for it.


I’m sorry, even if I’d been ‘Gokked,’ spray tanned and airbrushed to within an inch of my life, I still wouldn’t do it.  My body’s not horrific, and I’m lucky enough to have no stretch marks or cellulite but no, no, no.  I just couldn’t ever imagine myself dropping my drawers and posing in the nuddie - however tasteful if might be.


What did the playwright, Sartre say?  “Hell is other people”.  And that’s how I’d feel if I was in the house.  I don’t want to share my space with a three legged transsexual ogre from Enfield or a Michael Jackson look-alike with a penchant for howling at the moon.  I don’t want cameras on me 24/7.  I’m not the happiest bunny when I get out of bed in the morning and the thought of being transmitted to the nation while emerging into the day would drive me nuts.  I also couldn’t bear being told how much we have (or haven’t) got to spend on food - if I’m hungry, I can be vile and if I’m denied chocolate, beware!  Probably the only part I would enjoy would be the tasks because I’m always up for a laugh (as long as I don’t have to take my clothes off!)


It’s perverse!  Why do people want to have the c**p frightened out of them?  I just don’t get it.  They pay good money to be terrified.  I know I’ve mentioned this before but I’m sorry, I prefer to get my kicks in other ways.  Hubbie often says that he’d bet I’d change my mind if someone was actually standing there with the million but I know for sure that I wouldn’t.  I’d just get my sister to do it for me - she’s one of those oddballs that like having their guts churned for the ‘thrill of it’ (even though she tore her ear lobe when one of her earrings went flying, never to be found, while riding the Crazy Mouse on Brighton Pier).


My dad always used to tell me, it’s the living you need to be afraid of, not the dead.  I can see the logic but I’m a big cowardy-custard and, although I have no problems with ghosts per se, I wouldn’t even get my head on my pillow in a building with a reputation for hauntings.  I long for the spirit of my dad or Godmother to visit me but I don’t want an unknown or troubled soul to come calling.  One of my best friends grew up in a haunted house and the memories of things that happened live on with her to this day.  Happy, rested spirits are one thing but it’s the others that worry me.


I’m a control freak.  I’m the first to admit it and I hold my hands up in acceptance.  So to be strapped to someone else’s back and leave an aeroplane when they decide it’s safe is just a no-go for me.  I can see the appeal of floating through the sky in limbo but I think I’d die of shock before I hit the ground so I’d never get to enjoy my million anyway.

I’m sure if I wracked my brains I could come up with a heap more, but for now I’ll hand over to you.

What would you refuse to do for a million smackers?

My novel “Diary of a Mummy Misfit” is available on Amazon.  A tale of not belonging.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.


  1. I'm totally with you on these, but particularly the parachuting. There's nothing in the universe that would entice me to willingly jump out of a plane. Or bungee-jump. No way will I ever do that either!

    This is a matter of some contention in our house though as elder son want to parachute as soon as he is old enough, and can't understand why I don't share his enthusiasm.

  2. It definitely should be the first for me, since unlike you Amanda, this vehicle is well past its MOT. However...the nightmare of the BB house is soon upon us and though I swear never to clock it again - well, after a day's scriblling, a night's Tweetdecking and supper shared with Quack, I might just be tempted. After all - a cool mill - perhaps I'd just agree to all and any with DOG and Moet thrown in!