Mrs Fry's Diary

by Mrs Stephen Fry

Genres: Humor & Satire

Synopsis

THE HILARIOUS DIARY BY MRS STEPHEN FRY - THE WIFE YOU NEVER KNEW HE HAD 'Hilarious' - Daily Express 'Buy the wife's book or I'll never hear the end of it' Stephen Fry Stephen Fry's secret wife speaks out at last... Enjoyed a nice cuppa this morning with a HobNob and Jeremy Kyle. There was a woman on there who'd been married 16 years without realising her husband was gay. Extraordinary! Which reminds me, it's our 16th anniversary in a few weeks. What a coincidence. Stephen Fry - actor, writer, raconteur and wit. Cerebral and sophisticated, a true Renaissance man. Or is he? Finally, his secret double life - the womanizing, the window-cleaning, the kebabs, the karaoke - is exclusively revealed by Edna, his devoted wife and mother of his five, six or possibly seven children. These diaries take us through a year in the life of an unwitting celebrity wife, and are rumoured to include: - scandalous nocturnal shenanigans - advice on childcare - 101 things to do with a tin of Spam. 'A good diary should be like a good husband - a constant companion, a source of inspiration and, ideally, bound in leather.' - Edna Fry twitter.com/MrsStephenFry

Release date: October 15, 2010

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 360

Sample

 

January

1 Saturday

Every January 1st is exactly the same – a cold grey afternoon, nothing on the telly and Stephen with his head down the toilet, belching the theme to Dr Zhivago. Must be Groundhogmanay. Apparently he spent the night unconscious in the S & M club car park. This morning I had to pay £50 to have his nipples unclamped.

 

Made our New Year’s resolutions. Mine is to be even more patient and understanding than I already am and Stephen’s is to give up swearing. And kebabs. And karaoke. And tequila. And her at number 38. Now all I have to do is get him to sign it while he’s still only semi-conscious. Thank goodness for Citizens Advice. Who knew there was such a thing as a post-nup?

2 Sunday

Felching & Sons’ sale started today. Managed to get a few post-Christmas presents. A Tickle-Me-Kylie for Stephen Junior and a Nintendo Puu for little Brangelina – apparently it’s like a Wii, only you play it sitting down.

3 Monday

At last, the children are back at school. Or amusement arcade. Or wherever it is they go from Monday to Friday. And her at number 38’s husband’s away again, so Stephen’s shot out on his window-cleaning round.

 

Enjoyed a nice cuppa this morning with a HobNob and Jeremy Kyle. There was a woman on there who’d been married 16 years without realising her husband was gay. Extraordinary! Which reminds me, it’s our 16th anniversary in a few weeks. What a coincidence. Personally, I think the key to a successful marriage is maintaining separate interests. I have my cooking, my pottery and my love of 19th-century literature and Stephen has his Razzle magazines.

4 Tuesday

Coffee this morning with Mrs Norton and Mrs Winton in the Cuppa Cabana. They do an excellent special Colombian blend – apparently the owner imports it herself from Bogotá. She gets a fresh delivery every week by courier. I have to say it’s a little too pungent for my tastes, although it certainly gives you a buzz. I prefer to go for the decaf, which, oddly, has the same effect.

 

Popped into Foodland afterwards to pick up a few things. It really is the little woman’s paradise, just like they say on the commercials. They boast the lowest prices in the area and the widest range of artificial additives and chemicals of any supermarket chain. It certainly helps when you’re trying to stretch your meagre housekeeping, plus I have to get our food there anyway, as Stephen’s Waitrose intolerant.

 

SHOPPING LIST:

 

Spam – multipack

Cup-a-Fruit

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Lager

It Ain’t Necessarily Soap

Bedroom ceiling mirror polish

5 Wednesday

Twelfth Night. We took the Christmas decorations down today. I say we – I took the decorations down. If I waited for Stephen to do it, the house would still be looking like an elves’ lap-dancing club in July. It took him three years just to put that bookshelf up. It’ll probably be another three before he buys a book.

6 Thursday

Goodness, what a day for a power cut! Stephen and I were freezing this morning. Our bedroom was like an ice box. Fortunately, the kids were fine. We never switch on the heater in their bedroom anyway, otherwise they won’t feel the benefit when they go outside. It was so cold, Stephen had no choice but to go to work and I was forced to spend the afternoon with Mrs Winton in her maisonette. She told me all about this new Reiki fortune teller she’s just started seeing. First she gives you an intense scalp massage, then she reads your dandruff. I’d love to have my scalp massaged some time, but apparently they can’t do it without removing your hat.

7 Friday

Topless Tequila Karaoke at Sombrero’s tonight. I never go with Stephen. I always get so nervous when he performs. Besides, it’s impossible to get babysitters, especially since the ASBOs. It’s the regional quarter finals tonight. No doubt, if Stephen nails Lady Gaga on the mechanical bull, I’ll have a semi to deal with . . .

 

Past midnight now. No sign of Stephen. Knowing him, he’ll have gone on to a club to celebrate or drown his sorrows. I do hope he doesn’t come back in one of his kinky moods again. Last week he insisted we try a bit of bondage. Can’t say it did anything for me. I bruised my knee on the sideboard and he ended up in Halfords. Perhaps next time only one of us should wear a blindfold.

8 Saturday

Oh dear. Stephen smeared his you-know-what with superglue again last night. I’d love to tell someone about it but my lips are sealed.

9 Sunday

Typical Sunday morning. Stephen was in his Rudolph Valentino mood this week – he insisted I join him in his ‘tent of love’. Of course, it was just a bed sheet before he got excited. I do wish he’d give up this roleplay malarkey. If it’s not doctor and receptionist, it’s gladiator and slave girl or aerobics instructor and regional head of town planning. The other week he wanted us to play amusement arcade manager and naughty schoolgirl. Well, I thought. In for a penny . . .

 

Managed to persuade Stephen to drive me to Ikea in the afternoon – I told him it was the new Apple gadget. Unfortunately, he had one of his panic attacks in the store. I’d forgotten all about his claustrophobia. And fear of anything Swedish. It all stems, apparently, from the time he was stuck in a lift with ABBA.

In the end, it took two puffs on his inhaler and half my Valium to calm him down. Thank goodness we didn’t go in my sister’s Volvo. Still, it gave me time to get the tea cosy I was looking for (or, as they call it, SchlurpWully) and I found a lovely new bedside lamp (LiteFondl). Ironically, next to the futon Stephen fell asleep on (NobEd).

10 Monday

We told Stephen Junior that he’s adopted this evening. He isn’t, but there was nothing on TV.

11 Tuesday

Read an article about how some frustrated women use cooking to compensate for the lack of . . . well . . . marital shenanigans. How ridiculous!

 

Cooking one of my favourite dishes today. Here’s the recipe:

 

Spam Rumpy Pumpy

 



 

A robust, filling and intensely satisfying dish. Serves one.

 

Ingredients:

1 family-sized tin Spam, opened

Extra slutty olive oil

500 ml whipping cream

Zest of 2 Jif lemons

Allspice

Pre-rolled sponge

2 dozen oysters

1.5 litres Blue Nun

 

1.  Preset washing machine to mark 8.

2.  Carefully ease meat out of can and lay on flat surface. Season, rolling and teasing gently until lightly flustered.

3.  When you have the required length, braise tenderly, slowly raising the heat until sufficient hardening occurs and the juices begin to flow. Firmly rub in oil to maintain optimum moistness.

4.  Fill your bowl with cream and whip into frenzy, adding a little zest. Smear over meat and sponge gently.

5.  Fold and toss vigorously until completely engorged. Leave to bubble away. Drink Blue Nun, eat oysters and lean against washing machine until thoroughly drizzled.

6.  Serve with broccoli, new potatoes and a cigarette.

12 Wednesday

Went to the cinema this evening. It was a choice between a Woody Allen film and Avatar, but I can’t stand those ridiculous glasses, so we watched Avatar.

13 Thursday

Brangelina’s so cute. Apparently at school today she had a playground wedding. Her best friend LaToya was the head bridesmaid, her little classmate Shane played the groom (looking a little worse for wear after yesterday’s playground stag night), the deputy head Miss Morgan officiated and the school solicitor drew up the pre-nup. They even had a professional photographer. I say professional, more an enthusiastic amateur. Long Range Len did a lovely job if you ignore the railings and his net curtain. It’s so nice to see children using their imaginations. Next week they’re having a playground divorce.

14 Friday

Just discovered a packet of little blue pills in Stephen’s pocket. I’ve told him to think long and hard before taking them.

15 Saturday

The twins’ birthday today. Sadly, we were too late to book a party at Build-A-Bear so we went to Do-A-Doll instead. Asbo and Subo had a lovely time. The place was festooned with balloons – all the colours of the rainbow and ribbed for our pleasure. The staff did a tremendous job, leading enthusiastic renditions of ‘Happy Birthday’, ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ and ‘Eskimo Nell’. They’d arranged party games – Pass the Parcel and Pin the Tail on Donkey Dave – and Booboo the clown was a big hit with his highly creative and anatomically precise balloon animals.

After the party food, the children all got to inflate their own doll and they could even choose the colour of its ultra-realistic hair. The two hours flew by – Stephen particularly enjoyed Sally the Stripping Squirrel – and everyone went home happy with a party bag filled with all sorts of weird and wonderful toys. A great success!

16 Sunday

A nice, relaxing day. I must remember to thank Mrs Winton for putting me on to that feng shui. I have to say it really works! I feel so much calmer since we moved the children’s beds into the garage.

17 Monday

Had a lovely lunch with Mrs Norton at the new vegetarian restaurant on the high street, Debbie Does Salad. Very peculiar, though. She said she’d been watching television the other night and seen someone who looked the spitting image of my Stephen. And he wasn’t on Crimewatch or Police, Benefit Cheats, Action. Some intellectual quiz programme called Mock Your IQ or something. Apparently this chap’s the host. Must remember to Sky Plus it.

 

Decided to take a break from the kitchen and have a takeaway tonight. No luck. Tried to order a Domino’s pizza but they had no delivery boys available. Apparently one of them had an accident. He fell over, knocking another one over, who knocked another one over . . .

18 Tuesday

Stephen Junior’s Parents’ Evening today. It was so lovely to finally meet his teacher, Ms Woolley, after her extended leave. I must say she’s looking a lot better now. She finally seems to have that twitch under control. She seemed terribly pleased with Stephen Junior’s progress this year, or at least the two weeks she’s spent with him. She did say he was struggling a bit with his English, but then he gets that from his father. And he’s also struggling with his Maths. And his Geography. And his History. And his Science. But he looks set for a grade C in Metalwork and Domestic Violence and apparently, he’s already got an ADHD so I was terribly proud. The meeting went swimmingly – unlike his swimming – until Ms Woolley suggested that his results and general demeanour might benefit from a better diet. I’m afraid the rest of the evening is a bit of a blur.

19 Wednesday

Saw Ms Woolley again. I must say the ward looked delightful – lovely wallpaper. I don’t know what came over me. Took her a batch of my special lemon ketchup brownies to cheer her up.

20 Thursday

Had to buy another box of Kleenex for Hugh Junior today. I blame myself. Last time I cleared up his bedroom floor, I accidentally dropped 50 pence. Now he thinks there’s a sperm fairy. It’s costing me a fortune.

21 Friday

I’ve been telling Stephen for months to get his glasses fixed. If it wasn’t for his homing instinct he’d never even make it to the Red Lion’s Karaoke Night, although he still managed to win, somehow. Apparently the audience loved his renditions of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Sink’ and ‘Some Whore Over the Rainbow’.

22 Saturday

What an exciting day! After months of waiting, the new shopping mall – the Shangri-la Centre – finally opened this morning. It’s in the industrial estate just off the ring road. It took a while to find it because the sat nav in the Transit’s broken (Stephen tried to feed it curry sauce last week on the way back from the dog track). If it hadn’t been for Stephen Junior’s ankle tracking bracelet we’d never have found it. I must say, though, it was definitely worth the three-and-a-half-hour journey. It was a spectacular affair. They had a ventriloquist and a meat raffle. All the local papers were there and the centre was officially opened by Cristal Braithwaite from series seven of Big Brother, who cut a giant credit card in two. Sadly, Stephen had to stay in the car park until she had finished, due to the restraining order. Oddly, one passer-by asked me why Stephen hadn’t been asked to open it himself. Silly man. As if anyone would want a window cleaner to open a shopping mall! He has enough trouble opening his own front door most ni. . .