Obsessed moi?

"Come in. Welcome. Do sit down if you can find a space. Sorry about the mess. Mince pie? Cup of tea? Something stronger? Forgive me if I seem distracted. I'm waiting for the chaps in the white coats."

'Chef's are they?'

"Mais non, mon ami, mais non. The other 'clinical' white coats, and the kinky backward facing jacket - funny sleeves, You understand? I called them a few minutes ago. It's for the best, don't you know?"

'But why? You always seem so happy Phil. Take a deep breath, relax and put your feet up. Talk when you are ready'

"I think that I am officially obsessed because who else goes around photographing their food before they eat it; writing down snippets of tv cookery shows as they watch them; has a secret stash of glossy food, French and travel magazines under the table and just moved the entire living room furniture so that he could photograph his bookshelves as proof? And you think that's the end of it? Ach, gar nicht meine freunden."

"I confess too that I hang around cafes and restaurants and 'borrow' their menus to write to complete strangers about my visits. Blogging they call it. Sometimes I can spend hours choosing a particular word or turn of phrase just to make those self same strangers, known as 'commentors', laugh or learn something. They blog too! I've seen them! Let them deny it!  Some even taunt me with their glitzy-glam French lives. Un vrai cauchemar"

" From time to time, of an evening mostly, I force myself to go on stage and put my life in mortal danger saying other people's words and doing other people's actions, night after blessed night. It's like burping up a very hot curry plus applause at the end and less visits to the toilet."

The secret stash revealled!

"There's more. Oh yes, there is certainly more. Upstairs, I have even more books. It's like a crazy library with a bed.In front of me, as I speak, I can see a double shelf full of dvds mostly in foreign tongues and a whole collection of Rick Stein's dvds."

"One of these Stein dvds is my great undoing. I hardly dare mention it's name for I know that it shall claim me and force me,yet again, to watch it for many hours, with wine to hand. The bastard has played this evil trick on me over twenty times already. It all starts with the wibbly BBC2 logo and soundbite and then the wretchedly catchy theme tune. It's French Odyssey time and it has me snared, oh so gently snared, sucking me in to its garlicy grip. I know it backwards. Chalky won't go to the vet.. Rick has to leave him back in the UK. But Chalky is no more of this earth... and on-on -on! Is there no stopping it? "

"No! I love it!!!!  Je l'aime! I demand to have those French markets and idyllic meals with nice foodie people and drinking ruby red wine from French maidens bras n' stuff. Ahem. Don't get me started on the drink please. I've a barge to steer and it's a long way to the Med. If only Chalky were here."

"Now the latest thing is going to see the film Julie and Julia and then buying the book. I can't put the bloody thing down and keep laughing like a loon well into the night. Aaaaaaah! Will it all ever end? Please just truss me up like a corn fed chicken and get me out of here!"

Serious bit.

Wet myself bit.

Bust a gut bit.

"I need help!!!! Si, Dave, Rick, Delia,Gordon,Nigella, Hugh! Dedene, Emily, Guy, Marian, French Fancy,Janette, Gail's Man, Cheryl, Dean, Thérèse-Marie, Karen and Ken. Help me!!! Please!"

 "Mince pie anyone? Now what was I saying? Well can't stop, blogging to do. Merry Christmas all."