Dear Margaret Thatcher

I am dairy intolerant and don’t for one second resent you for taking the milk away from us kids at all. In fact I would actually like to thank you for it, because as soon as you snatched the milk from out tiny hands, my dreadful stomach cramps and severe fatigue came to an end.

Can I have a signed photograph of you please as I am a huge fan. My uncle, who was a miner, on the other hand, isn’t! Thanks so Much Margaret. I am proud to call myself one of Thatcher’s children and I’m in bloody good company because that Carol Thatcher is a right laugh!

Love from Leigh

Dear Mariella Frostrup

I am in a desperate situation at the moment and feel cornered by what I have witnessed in the past two weeks. I can’t speak to anyone about this as I am too embarrassed.

My sister started going out with her boyfriend, who I shall refer to as D to protect his privacy, around 6 months ago. Things started off very well, I had loads in common with him. We both like cricket and Queen etc. My sister seemed really happy and everyone noticed a change in her both in her moods and in her physical appearance, she always had a smile on her face and started washing her hair regularly and wearing make-up.

Darren spoils her, buying her whatever she wants, whenever she wants. He’s very affectionate always cuddling her and kissing her and telling her how great she is, which always puts a smile on my sister’s face and undoubtedly leaves her with a feeling of great contentment.

Two weeks ago my sister and her boyfriend telephoned all of the family members for a gathering at their house. Their sombre tone on the telephone alarmed everyone. I was too concerned to wait all day for the gathering so I immediately drove to D’s house to find out what was wrong. He invited me in and told me that I had better sit down as he had some distressing news. He proceeded to tell me that my sister was terminally ill and had been given only weeks to live. I broke down, I couldn’t believe it. My sister was not at his house at the time so he made me a cup of tea and we both cried for well over an hour. I wanted to phone my sister and see her prior to her breaking the news to the entire family but he told me that she wanted to only have to say it once, explain it once before she passed away. I understood that this was her way of dealing with it and I went home promising not to utter a word to anyone. He told me that it was only a few hours before everyone would know and the entire family would be united in grief. I thanked him for telling me and gave him my word. I gave him a hug and told him that I was so pleased that she had found him, to share her final weeks with.

I sat alone in my flat for the rest the day, my mind in ruins, I cried for the whole day. At 5 o’ clock I sat in my car outside my sister’s house watching family members arrive. Everyone seemed so excited. It destroyed me watching them arriving and knowing that they would leave the house shattered as I had earlier. I left my car and bravely walked the longest walk of my life through that front door. My tears erupted the minute I laid eyes on my sister and I blacked out.

When I came too, everyone was so concerned and asked me why I was crying. Obviously I couldn’t say and rather stupidly told them that I was somewhat exhausted had watched an emotional episode of a television programme before I left the house. Of course everyone laughed. I told everyone I needed space and watched my cousins, aunties and uncles arrive and waited anxiously for my sister to break the news.

D quietened everyone down and told them my sister had an announcement to make. I put my head in my hands and when I felt my mothers hand on the back of my head the tears began to stream. That was when my sister then announced… “We’re Engaged!” Immediately I dragged D out of the house and asked him what the hell he was playing at. He explained his actions as a practical joke. Members of the family were furious with me as they thought I was jealous and attention seeking. My sister was devastated because I was “trying to ruin” things for her.

I realised that I couldn’t tell anyone about this because nobody would believe me. So I figured that the only thing to do was to forgive and forget. So I apologised to my sister and she forgave me but told me I would have to make amends with Darren for threatening him, so I agreed to go watch the local cricket team with him the following Sunday. The minute I sat in his car he was the old D again and I found it easy to forget what he had done to me the week previous. Before cricket, I had to run into Marks and Spencer for a ready meal that we could drop off at his Grandma’s before the game. We both went into his Grandma’s house. I had never been there. She seemed a lovely woman and was so grateful for the meal. She stood up and left the room to go and get D some money. While she was absent D got down on his knees and sniffed the seat that she had been sat on. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I don’t know what to do Mariella, I can’t speak to anyone about this, I’m so embarrassed and I can’t tell anyone because I am perceived as a jealous attention seeker by the entire family. Should I tell anyone? I can’t sleep because of this and I can’t eat because all I can think of is that look of deep satisfaction on his face after smelling the chair. I am at my wits end. Please, please can you offer me some advice?

Love from Leigh

I didn’t get a response from Mariella, ‘the Observer’s weekly agony aunt’. Cheers Mariella. I could have taken my own life! Call yourself an agony Aunt?

Dear Ulrika Jonsson

What began as a movie has since turned into an advertisement. I have found the creative process rather draining and have been working on the advert every day for the past fifteen years and am now on a number of tablets which I am not willing to list.

I just need a yes from you, an agent, some actors, an advertising agency, and some big wigs at various companies and we are good to go. Here is the script. Oh God, I hope you like it, I’m so nervous I don’t know what to do. I’ll be back in a bit, I forgot to do something.

I’m back, I’ve did what I was supposed to do. Anyway, here is the script…..

A Leigh Clark Advertisement

CAST

Mum (Ulrika)

Son (Me)

Daughter (My Sister)

Dog (My next door neighbour’s dog or a celebrity dog depending on budget restrictions)

Dad (TBC I am expecting confirmation any day now from Tobey Maguire)

ADVERT

Mum is franticly running around the kitchen.

MUM: (talking to herself) Being a celebrity, a doting wife and a mother of two troublesome kids is so hard especially when it comes to meal times.(to be delivered as franticly as possible)

SON enters kitchen on rollerblades along with DOG on leash

SON: (gasping, yet weak) I’m starving, what’s for tea mum?

CLOSE UP OF MUMS FRANTIC FACE

DOG BARKS

Daughter enters the kitchen holding a mobile phone (PLEASE NOTE this character will NOT be wearing a hat)

DAUGHTER: I’m so hungry Mum, hope tea is ready soon or I will like, die of anorexia.

CLOSE UP OF MUMS FRANTIC FACE

Dad enters the kitchen in a suit

MUM: (increasingly frantic, she says to Dad) Don’t tell me… you’re hungry?

Dad looks gobsmacked/awestruck depending on range of the actor

MUM FRANTICLY RUNS TO THE CUPBOARD AND OPENS THE DOORS AND BREATHS A SIGH OF RELIEF

CLOSE UP OF SOME TINNED SOUP (I am waiting for confirmation from various brands Heinz Big Soup is a definite NO!)

MUM: Thanks (insert name of branded soup here) you really know how to take the stress out of meal times my kids love (insert name of branded soup here) and both my husband and I eat (insert name of branded soup here) for breakfast, lunch and dinner as part of a healthy balanced diet. (She turns to her family and says…) Is (insert name of branded soup here) okay for everyone?

DAD, SON, DAUGHTER: (simultaneously) Hooray! (insert name of branded soup here) our favourite!

Mum then walks up to the family and they all put there arms around one another and smile whilst the Dog stands on its hind legs and takes a Polaroid picture of them. (CGI will be used for this part)

Closing Shot is of a tin of (insert name of branded soup here) and the dogs paw places the photograph against the tin of soup.

THE END

Dear Kate Moss

 

I am a huge fan and admire all of the incredible work that you have done over the years. But I write basically asking for your help.

Two years ago I won a competition, which enabled me to have a full day photo shoot with a top international photographer named Vidal Marquis. I have always dreamed of becoming a male model but have had no success as most agencies have rejected me due to my height and my lazy eye. However, Vidal took some great photographs that day and said I was entitled to keep only one of them but if I wanted the others I would have to pay a grand total of nine hundred and eighty six pounds. This covered reproduction fees and paid for his internationally renowned name to be printed beneath the print. After years of trying to break into the business I saw these pictures as an opportunity to become recognised in the modelling world. After all, who would be able to turn me down following my association with Vidal Marquis? I therefore gave Vidal all of my bank and credit card details enabling him to do a credit check. I left his studio in Bradford that day elated that soon I would have the likes of Kevin Kline and Eves Sir Laraunt at my feet. I was told that I would receive the photographs along with an exclusive folder in the following six to twelve weeks. When I arrived home that night I showed my mother the photograph and a tear welled in her eye as she said that for the first time in her life she thought I would be able to make something of myself. She said the picture was perfect.

Twelve weeks later I had received no prints. Yet, my bank balance was non-existent and the whole two-thousand pounds credit on my visa had been spent. The credit card company claimed that the card cover plan, which I paid five pounds per month for, was not valid, as I shouldn’t have given him my pin number. But I trusted him Kate. Why shouldn’t I, he had worked with some of the worlds greats such as yourself, Madonna and Linda La Plant. Of course I didn’t want to act unprofessional so I gave him everything he requested. At the moment I am working every hour god sends at the petrol station to pay off my debts and help my mum pay the mortgage, as she was made redundant from her cleaning Job at Natwest last year. Life is terrible at the moment but I feel it could be easily resolved if only I could get my hands on those photographs. Agencies are still turning me down as they say the one picture I have doesn’t count as a portfolio. I have been signed by Hull Glamour, who also have Claire Spinks (Miss Beverley Advertiser 1999) on their books, but they have failed to get me any work as yet. I also model once a month at Curls by Design Unisex Salon where I get a free trim and colour if I choose.

Vidal mentioned how much he enjoyed working with you and said that you meet up regularly to discuss changes in fashion and make up. I have no way of getting in touch with him because he moved out of the Bradford studio and his mobile number is defunct, so I was wondering if possible, the next time you see him can you please ask him to send me the photographs as I feel like my life is on hold. Just to refresh his memory I wore the ripped jeans and held onto some tyres in the free shot and in the others did a succession of poses from wearing a suit and looking upset, acting coy behind the tree, and being sexually ambiguous on a fur rug. Please stress the importance of these photographs Kate, if I don’t get out of the petrol Station soon I don’t know what I’ll do. I began working there when I was twenty, I thought it would be temporary, but sixteen years later I still see the same faces day in, day out. If Vidal refuses to part with the pictures, I know this is a bit out of order Kate but could you possibly borrow them from his file and photocopy them for me. I would do anything for those pictures and I mean anything. Thanks so much for your help Kate. You are so lucky. Hopefully one day I’ll see you on the catwalk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love from Leigh

Now that Angus Deyton has stolen her fashion crown, and her clothes line at Topshop is as popular as prescription shoes, Kate may find time to send me a reply. I’ll keep you posted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Geri Halliwell

I have written a song for you called Waiting Game, which is about love and being broken hearted, but also about anticipating your return to the charts. Here it is..

It’s such a shame
Playing the waiting game
And I’m in pain
Waiting to hear your name
I like the sound
Of my feet touching the ground
But when there’s no one else around
You’ll find me waiting

Calling out your name
In my waiting game
Its such a crying shame
That I’m waiting

Love hurts, don’t you know that this is true
Pain hurts, while I’m waiting for you
Tears fall, all over my face
You disappeared without a trace
So I scream, because I want to go faster
And you bag it up because I ask ya
Look at me my chico latino
I’m waiting
In my waiting game.

RAP (optional): Yo check the mic, I’m waitin, ya’ll
Don’t you let those tears fall
Cos Geri is back and comin at ya
Listen up Bitch or I’ll f*****g cut ya
She’s done presentin’ and pop stars too
But now she’s back to sing for you
All the gangstaz in the hood what you waitin for
When she sings lift me up you shout encore
It doesn’t matter if your black, white or queer
Have no fear cos Ginger spice is here
All you Geri fans, she’s gonna blow you a kiss
But she don’t want no lyrical diss.
Be afraid if y’all don’t buy this record en mass
Because this mother f****r will pop a cap in your ass!
REPEAT

I hope you like it Geri. The first bit can be sung over Calling and the rap can be sung over Lose yourself in the music by Eminem, so you might need a proper DJ to mix the tracks together before attempting to sing them. Well, I’ve got to go now, we are taking the dog to the vets tonight because he is too old. Good luck with your music. I can’t wait to hear it. Please can I have a photograph of you and details on how to join your fan club, because I have got a job on the market now selling shoes, so I can afford about fifteen ponds a week.

Yours forever and more,

Leigh Clark

Dear John Leslie

You walked past me and you were wearing beige corduroy trousers with a dark brown leather belt which had a gold buckle, there were two holes to spare on your belt but there were evident signs of wear on the last hole suggesting that you had either borrowed the belt from someone who was larger than you or recently lost some weight. You looked very smart with your shirt collar sticking out of your navy blue lambs-wool jumper, although, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you could have done with a once over from a de-fuzzer. I don’t suppose you have one of those though do you John? I remember being surprised that you had, possibly, three days growth of stubble but then I thought that you were probably taking a break from the strict shaving regimes that are necessary for your television appearances. I could tell that you looked after your skin and moisturised regularly but suffered slightly with open pores. I have never noticed this problem on the countless photographs I have of you so I’m assuming that a talented make-up artist gave you some valuable advice on this matter.

I smiled and thought, thank God, he’s human when I noticed the small amount of sleep gathered in the nook of your left eye. You must have felt my stare because you lifted your perfectly manicured hand and as you smoothed out your light crows feet with your thumb you wiped away the offensive dried green residue with your index finger (there was a terrible wick on there John, I was worried it would become infected).

I followed you all afternoon and stood behind you at the ice-cream van, as you were asking for a Mr Whippy with a flake and nuts on, I leaned forward and deeply inhaled your scent. It was more than a smell John, it became a feeling! You may remember a fracas that occurred shortly after you had made your purchase as unfortunately I heard someone say something insulting about you and your relationship with Catherine Zeta-Jones and there was nothing that I could do other than punch her full-on in the face. I broke her nose and she suffered from severe concussion and it was then that we parted company as I was escorted from the fate by armed police.

I later discovered that your scent came in a bottle labelled Givenchy Pour Homme. Now I always smell like you. Anyway John I’ve got to go as my wife is calling me downstairs for supper. It’s my youngest son’s Holy Communion tomorrow and I’ve lots to prepare. I hope this has an effect on my son because I’m now estranged from my eldest son as he chose hairdressing over his religion and I refuse to have a gender-blender under my roof.

Please may I have a signed photograph of you because now my son is dead to me I have a spare frame on the mantle.

Dear MTV

I lead a wild life and I’m sure your viewers would be interested in watching me and the boys crazy pave gardens and driveways. It’s not as straight forward as you might think. There are a team of three of us lads and we work mostly six day weeks but don’t worry, we party hard. On Thursdays we play darts for the same team and on Saturday nights, depending on whether or not we can get baby-sitters, we go clubbing at the local pub. It’s laugh a minute it honestly is. We’re like brothers and a lot of our customers have said that we should be on television because we have great chemistry and we are genuinely funny guys. I’m always playing practical jokes on the lads and they love it. We’re saving up for a lads holiday which you would be more than welcome to film.

I have seen an accountant and am coming to London for a meeting with an agent on September 22nd and could easily call in and see you to discuss arrangements. You’d love our van it says Totally Crazy Paving on it and has a photograph of me holding a trowel on it. Sometimes when I’m out people shout, ‘it’s that fella off the van’, which can be annoying but it’s all in the name of fame, if that’s your game (LOL)

I’ll look forward to hearing from you. The lads are bricking it that they might be on television. Bricking? I say, you should be Totally Crazy Paving.

Love from Leigh

Dear Penelope Keith

To be honest Penelope, I don’t really want to do it but a while ago I was in a local nightclub with my friends and had had a bit to drink when I overheard a conversation about one of my friends having terminal cancer. This was the first I had heard of it. I cut my night short and went home and came up with a great idea to show my friend how much I care by throwing myself off the bridge to raise money for him. I got the media interested and set up a website and the money started rolling in. Fighting back the tears, I eventually told my friend what I was doing. He laughed his head off.

He does not have terminal cancer and I confronted the friends I overheard and they said that they had never said such a thing but I may have heard them saying he was a ‘terrible dancer,’ which he really is Penelope. Because of the booking and media attention my jump has gotten, it is impossible for me to back out.

I was wondering if you could send me a signed photograph and a message of support. I’d love to be able to show the local television stations that I have the support of someone as wonderful as yours truly (you). I hope you don’t mind but I’ll probably sell the photograph to raise money for the charity. As my friend is not dying I have decided to use the money to fund a campaign against prison sodomy and I’ve got to make a small contribution to the Cat’s Protection League because I accidentally killed one the last time I cut the grass.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Love from Leigh

Dear Sandi Toksvig

I was wondering if you would be so kind as to send me a signed photograph because I have a hair appointment next Thursday and I’m always telling them about how much I adore your hair but they haven’t a clue who you are. Philistines, these hairdressers though aren’t they Sandy? They all drink alco-pops and eat Mcdonalds. I doubt they’ve heard of Sauvignon Blanc and Coq au vin. But that’s the difference between us and them Sandy. We are both culturally rich and surrounded by degenerate peasants.

So if you could please send the picture asap it would be most appreciated. I am going to a dinner dance on the evening and have bought a marvellous new outfit. My wife will be thrilled when I reveal my new image.

I got the photograph in time for my appointment but it is impossible to emulate the Tokswig!

Dear Mario

We couldn’t believe when you were voted off Big Brother, I was gutted and my wife actually cried. You were so entertaining and amazingly intelligent. I can’t believe how experienced you are and how much you have packed into your life. Yours and Lisa’s enthusiasm for life has made me feel really ambitious and I am booked in to go paragliding with my wife after she has our baby. We’re so excited. I really admire the way you interacted with the other housemates you were always very respectable and mature which I feel the other contestants lacked and I think that you are a great role model to any youngster watching.

You and Lisa are the perfect couple and I hope that when you get married they televise it. I can remember when they televised Princess Diana’s wedding and it was phenomenal. I am sure your wedding would get a similar response as I know so many people that admire and respect you. I think it would be fantastic if you got your own show on television. You and Lisa could be the next Richard and Judy as they have just left Channel 4.

As I mentioned earlier, My wife and I are having a baby. We found out at the scan that we are having a little boy and I am proud to tell you that we have decided to call him Mario Marconi Beckham Clark, in honor of you and David Beckham who we also admire greatly and is a distant cousin of my wife. The birth is expected on 3rd of November and we are having a Christening ceremony in January (date is yet to be confirmed) I’m not sure if David & Victoria will be there because they live in L.A now and he is tied up with L.A Galaxy but we have had confirmation from Dave and Sarah (his mum and dad). I know we have never met but as you can probably tell from my letter, I think of you as a hero and would be so very honored if you and Lisa could possibly join us for the Christening of our little boy. I will understand if you can’t make it as I’m sure your careers will have really taken off by next January and I doubt you’ll be able to fit us into your hectic schedule. However Mario the offer is there and we would love our son to meet his namesake.

May we please have a signed photograph of you Mario? You are so inspirational, attractive and charismatic. Television and the world of entertainment needs more people like you and less people like Graham Norton.

Thanks so much. I look forward to hearing from you.

« Previous Page — Next Page »