Just had a call from Sandy. apparently Gerhardt saw my previous entry and was not amused. Of course the conversation he had with Sandy is confidential and I am not privvy to the exact nature or content, but I will say this;

I HAVE NEVER SLEPT WITH FARM ANIMALS

whether or not that came up in the conversation I have no idea; as I said, not privvy. Don't want to know. But I also have actually had training, thank you. And I was on time, ta everso. Oh, and that was Beckhams' fragrance I was wearing. Cheap shit? I think not. As I say, I thought I would cover these areas in case they came up in conversation.

Sandy said in her call I had more or less blown it, and that if I turned in for work on Monday Gerhardt may not be able to control his urges. While I have no issue with homosexuality, Gerhardt will have to look elsewhere to assuage his 'urges'. Despite a small amount of dabbling in RADA, I have never really had any desire that way. Except for John Simm. And we all remember what the Daily Mirror made of that court case.

If the play falls through, there is a chance I may have a shot at Binko Breakfast Bear. It's a series of commercials, you know the sort of thing, they did a similar thing with Tony Head and Sharon...god, how awful. I can't remember her name. Anyway, he goes around for coffee or something and it all develops and becomes a drama. Anyway, I might play Binko Bear, the bear who loves breakfast. It's a series of ads in which Binko demonstrates how brekky is the most important meal of the day.We see Binko with his meal and how his day goes, and how it goes without it. My favourite scene is where Binko goes without it and has to present a powerpoint presentation to Toyota executives, loses his cool and, well, even I have to say I was magnificent as angry Binko, biting, knawing and roaring. I don't want to spoil the ending but suffice to say I have bought Berk Kwok some flowers and get well soon card. He'll appreciate them when he wakes up.

My novel is coming along fine as well. It's a torrid tale set in the herring industry. Roman loves Pook, but is stopped in his love by circumstance he must somehow overcome. That's as far as I have got. I lent the script to Perrigrin Dawton but it appears his daughter has got hold of it and sellotaped images of parrots all through chapter three, obscuring the words. I have had no end of support from some of my acting bretherin. Brian Blessed, when I rang him was speechless when I read him the first chapter, Ken Roache suggested one or two changes and Barbara Windsor charmingly impersonated a fax machine.

Looking forward to the meet tomorrow, I must say. Now to Bedforshire, where my Jackie Collins is waiting. She's such a good writer. I could read her books over and over again; and have done.