Monty Has No Friends
February 14, 2008
Now everyone knows how I feel about Monty Don. This is no secret.
A A Gill asked recently what’s not to like about a man with two first names, and when you consider that both of those are abbreviations, that’s just chumminess on a new scale.
Montague Donald? You really want to get right in there and cut those extra bits back fairly hard, stick them on the compost and you’re left with something really quite fascinating.
Have you ever noticed how much he says “fascinating”?
And despite all this:
It just doesn’t seem right.
6 comments
This is the first time I’ve seriously been tempted to sign up for Facebook. I want to have no friends, too. Officially.
Didn’t say it last time, but I will this time.
You really can’t trust a man who thinks a leather jerkin is a good fashion move. In fact, jerkins should be banned full-stop.
However, Monty is more genuine and enjoyable than Alan Titchmarsh, who I’ve always found faintly creepy.
who is Monty Don?
Anyone done Monty?
PMSL @ ‘Monty has no friends’ lololol!
“Monty is redolent of a wilder, more ancient throb. He has an ancient boskiness, a Celtic spirit…”
What whimsical nonsense! The ancient people of the British Isles, the Caledonians, the Irish and Boudicca were all red haired. They were never the tall chinless wonders with dark curly French Norman hair and never needed a sun resistant olive coloured skin. As every gardener knows, Britain is a relentlessly cold and wet place where the sun hardly ever shines.
The natives, the ancient throbs, quite sensibly evolved pale almost transparent pink skins and like Pelagius, carried ample layers of fat to protect them from the chill winds. They looked nothing like a lanky Monty Don.
Leave a comment. Play nice. I will turn this blog around.