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Fidel, about time we got the tax on stogies sorted. If it got to serious i'd have enjoyed a smoke and drink with Pete and Dud.
Pete and Dud's a good one. I actually met Pete in a bar in Soho in 1993 (I think) and the craic was mighty. He did, however, get quite melancholy towards the end of the evening.
He could also be quite arrogant, referring to the bar staff as "drones." He also swore like the proverbal trooper!
Hermann Wilhelm G?ring, Patrick Moore, Winston Churchill, Chuck Yeager, Richard Dawkins, Clint Eastwood, Robert A. Heinlein, Stanley Kubrick, Margaret Thatcher, a ton more.
I'd love to spend time with Barry Humphries on his own or with Sir Les Patterson or with Dame Edna Everage because I think Humphries has one of the most observant and sharpest minds around. Dame Edna, at her best, was vindictive in a majestic way and I think that is a big bonus in a human if used maybe more sparingly than Edna.
Humphries has had many vices. If he doesn't smoke cigars now, I bet he once did.
Next I'd like to sit in on keys with Aerosmith. I can take that big shitty rock playing in measured doses. I also once read an article that explained that the band members are all great fans of Cuban cigars. I never forget cigar references if they turn up randomly in any sort of article.
We'd talk about women in the breaks.
If the dead could be brought back, I'd like to toke one off with Gustave Flaubert. He who wrote about a bipolar woman with a serious penchant for male horseriders in rich leather. I had to write reams of stuff about Flaubert at University and went to France to see some of his haunts. I saw the parrot even before Flaubert's Parrot wrote about the parrot!
To smoke one off with Gustave Flaubert would help me regain youthful days pawing over novels in tents as a student.
Flaubert was a strange man and walked round his garden with his evening cigar religiously before getting down to business. In his memoirs, he writes about keeping his cigar between his lips as he fucks whores. (His words in the French. Not mine. I just opened my... his... book).
I like all that. It's endearing. He made me have a go at it, and all.
I think he would be cool about being written into a window by a hungry man with a sick throat in May 2010. He was strange, but I don't think he was a wuss.
Several people have been mentioned earlier that I'd like to drop ash down.
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