GREG MOODIE

This particular anagram, ‘Jackal dines,' was perplexing in the extreme. I didn't want to get into it but once again LaFlamme had skilfully manipulated my free will. Now I was compelled to consume large quantities of bourbon and decipher my client's cryptic note.

Thoughts of ravenous jackals raced through my fevered mind. I say ‘raced' but ‘wandered pointlessly' would be more apt. These jackals were in no hurry. The only thing that ever raced through my mind was bewilderment.

Suddenly LaFlamme stirred. "I hate to say this but... Jack Daniels," she declared.

"No, no more for me thanks."

"No, Dumbo, Jack Daniels is the answer!" I thought for a moment she was about to burst into song. And I wasn't sure I liked her tone.

"It's MISTER Dumbo if you don't mind," I corrected her.

"You can be Emperor Dumbo if you like," she replied. "Don't you see? It's been staring us in the face. Literally."

She hovered the JD bottle before me, as if practising hypnosis, and slowly it began to sink in. But LaFlamme needed no practise. I'd been hypnotised for years.

An Unwelcome Cure For Laziness

February 6, 2009

I always thought anagrams, like jigsaws, were for people who had never discovered laziness. Why would I waste precious loafing hours trying to fix something that was deliberately broken to keep you people and your overactive lobes happy? This particular anagram, ‘Jackal dines,' was perplexing in the extreme. I didn't want to get into it … Continue reading →

LaFlamme continued to analyse my client Spore's cryptic note - ‘Jackals dine' - for it's anagrammatic possibilities, with increasingly silly results. With Spore himself still unconscious or even dead in the doorway, this could have been viewed as negligent. But I decided in Spore's case it was ok.

"Perhaps we need a drop of liquid inspiration," she suggested, and I visibly winced. LaFlamme had administered this type of inspiration to me before with devastating results.

"I'm not sure I can handle being inspired right now," I protested, feebly - I knew it was a lost cause.

"Nonsense," said LaFlamme and poured two massive belters of bourbon. Why she didn't just get a funnel and inspire me to death was beyond me.

Inspiration In Large Measures

February 3, 2009

Despite LaFlamme's confident assurance that my unconscious client's cryptic message - ‘Jackals dine' - was an anagram, she didn't appear to know of what.

Crosswords were never my forte and after thirty minutes putting pen to paper, all I could come up with was ‘Jackal dines.'

"It's just as well you're pretty," said LaFlamme, making a hollow knocking sound against the top of my head. "Better leave the thinking to me."

I happily relinquished the task as I feared any further brainstrain would surely lead to a hernia of the head.

It gave me time to reflect on the events leading up to this moment, the unusual sequence of mishaps and misadventures that left me in this confused state. But without reviewing previous posts I'm not that sure what they were.

The Hollow Sound Of My Head

February 1, 2009

Despite LaFlamme's confident assurance that my unconscious client's cryptic message - ‘Jackals dine' - was an anagram, she didn't appear to know of what. Crosswords were never my forte and after thirty minutes putting pen to paper, all I could come up with was ‘Jackal dines.' "It's just as well you're pretty," said LaFlamme, making … Continue reading →

More George Lyttleton, Band Manager >>

"Back in the old days I would just be getting home round about now. In fact, Phil Lynott and I would have tanked a bottle of Smirnoff before we even put on our makeup. But having been shown the hooch equivalent of a red card sometime in the eighties - don't ask when, it's a blur - it's been a 6am rise ever since.

The band are rehearsing today. At least I think they're rehearsing. I don't really keep that close a watch on them. ‘Exploit from a distance', that's what I say. For one thing, it saves walking around with a clothes peg on my nose.

I heard the new material and apparently some of it's pretty good. This I know for a fact because one of the execs told me so. ‘Never trust your own judgement when others can judge for you,' that's what I say.

So I begin the day's business by glancing at some of the emails I get: the usual collection of losers looking to hang on to my coat tails, now that I can afford coat tails. Every no-talent muso within a thousand mile radius wants me. They're like moths at a great flame.

Let's face it: anybody can be in a band. The real talent is in management."

- George Lyttleton, Band Manager

George Lyttleton’s 6am Bugle Call

January 30, 2009

More George Lyttleton, Band Manager >>

The following are the liner notes from the new cd by ESRE:

"I used to play guitar. Seriously. I was the only guy around who could play ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water' using just two chords. I bowled them over alright. People said I should ‘desist', but I was never that keen on protest songs.

When I turned to managing bands in the 1970's, it was a rich period in pop history. Managers could have their pick of any number of great groups back then. There was 10cc, Roxy Music, Cockney Rebel, Thin Lizzy... if only I'd picked them and not the turkeys I ended up with, I might not be here working with Neil Sommerville now.

But it's all water under the bridge. Bleeding troubled water. Which brings me to Esre. I think they could be my ‘bridge'. I think I still have a chance at the big time with these kids. And for those of you who read the papers and think you see a pattern emerging in my life - the making of a small fortune followed by tax evasion, bankruptcy, ignominy and a spell at her majesty's pleasure - let me say this: Esre are only my ticket to the first of these. I can handle the rest myself.

I may not understand their music, but when has that ever bothered managers in the past? I know a good thing when I see one. Like the first time I saw Dire Straits. Unfortunately it was at Wembley stadium so I was too late to sign them.

And it's not that I don't like Esre's sound, even though everybody knows music's gone downhill since the invention of stereo. I mean, one speaker was good enough for Phil Spector and if it wasn't broke why fix it? Spector may be a major twonk, but if Gnarls Barclay traded their four cloth ears for just one of his they might come up with a decent tune.

This aside, I think you'll agree that Esre could do wonders for my bank balance and help to erase some of the terrible things that have been said about me in the press. Who knows, they could even be as big as Simon and Garfunkel."

- George Lyttleton, Band Manager

George Lyttleton Introduces ESRE

January 29, 2009

The following are the liner notes from the new cd by ESRE: "I used to play guitar. Seriously. I was the only guy around who could play ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water' using just two chords. I bowled them over alright. People said I should ‘desist', but I was never that keen on protest songs. When … Continue reading →

LaFlamme wrenched the piece of paper from his fingers and read it aloud.

"Jackals dine," she said mysteriously. We both stared at each other blankly across Spore's gangly frame.

"Jackals dine? What the hell does that mean?" I asked.

"I might have missed all the other anagrams in this story, but I'm not about to miss this one," LaFlamme replied confidently.

I had no idea what she meant, but at least the story was back on track.

My Client – D.O.A.

January 27, 2009

Spore lay unconscious on the floor having stumbled in seconds earlier, clutching a slip of paper. I tried to determine whether he was still breathing. I may not like my clients but I don't want them dead. It's bad for business. LaFlamme wrenched the piece of paper from his fingers and read it aloud. "Jackals … Continue reading →

"You should have stuck with the Da Vinci Code," said LaFlamme in her best I-told-you-so voice. "Then it wouldn't have taken you a month to write this next instalment."

I had to agree that the book had been the source of some of my finest jests and that having abandoned it during a particularly silly passage, what I was now missing was real comedic inspiration.

I tried watching the movie but despite being equally feeble I realised it was no match for the book's poor character development and shallow plotting, and again my interest tapered off midway.

"How can such a large book be so insubstantial?" I asked LaFlamme, as if she knew all the answers. Generally she did know all the answers, at least ones that would satisfy a dullard like me. This time was no exception.

"That's part of the skill. If you can prattle on for ages about cornerstones and priories and make people think it's important, you've cracked it."

"I suppose so," I conceded. I always think if I have to endure a 300-page tome it better explain the meaning of life at the very least.

"Let's try and kick-start this baby," LaFlamme offered, and sat down to type in her inimitable floor-shaking manner.

‘Suddenly there is a knock at the door,' she began, ‘and the client Ignacious Spore stumbles in and collapses on the floor, a slip of paper clutched in his outstretched hand.'

"That's quite good," I said, although I suspected it was from the Maltese Falcon. At least Dashiell Hammett was worth ripping off.

The Da Vinci Code And Other Comic Gems

January 25, 2009

"You should have stuck with the Da Vinci Code," said LaFlamme in her best I-told-you-so voice. "Then it wouldn't have taken you a month to write this next instalment." I had to agree that the book had been the source of some of my finest jests and that having abandoned it during a particularly silly … Continue reading →

"Why would my client want to kill me?" I asked LaFlamme. "I'm not that bad a designer."

It was often hard to gauge what the raven-haired minx was thinking behind the wraparounds, but I never had long to wait for an opinion.

"Spore has you heavily insured," she replied a little coyly. "You're worth more dead than alive to him."

"Insured? How can my client have insured me without my knowledge?" I demanded, confident now that I could get this whole case to unravel like one of the Admiral's bobbly cardigans. "Shouldn't I have some say in that?"

"Clients have all kinds of rights these days," she said matter-of-factly. "They need to protect their investments. It's standard procedure now." She paused to take a full-throated blast from the troublesome red, tamed now in her hands. "In fact the underwriters treat it like pet insurance."

It was hard not to feel humiliated by the notion that my life could have been quoted for alongside the family budgie's. But there it was.

"Don't worry, Spore didn't insure your talent," LaFlamme added.

"That's a pity, because he could have claimed last week when it deserted me." I paused and then spun around to face her. "So what did he insure?"

LaFlamme looked up. "Your soul," she said.

Insurance: The New Rock’n’Roll

December 23, 2008

"Why would my client want to kill me?" I asked LaFlamme. "I'm not that bad a designer." It was often hard to gauge what the raven-haired minx was thinking behind the wraparounds, but I never had long to wait for an opinion. "Spore has you heavily insured," she replied a little coyly. "You're worth more … Continue reading →

: LaFlamme's take on murder.

"Murder?" I asked LaFlamme. "Who's dead?"

"That's not important," she replied.

"You're telling me my design client is framing me for murder but it doesn't matter whose?" Ordinarily I'd have thought that the subject of any murder might be a critical point but LaFlamme disagreed.

"There's no death," she stated plainly.

"Murder without death?" I fired back. "That's even more unusual." I often begin these conversations with a quest for knowledge and end them settling for a quiet life.

"We both know Spore's a slippery character," LaFlamme continued, now in full flow. "He gave you the world's worst logo knowing you could never work with it. Nobody could. He figured the case would drive you crazy and then he could pin a murder on you."

"But whose murder?" I persisted.

"Yours."

Scenes Of Graphic Violence

December 22, 2008

LaFlamme's take on murder. "Murder?" I asked LaFlamme. "Who's dead?" "That's not important," she replied. "You're telling me my design client is framing me for murder but it doesn't matter whose?" Ordinarily I'd have thought that the subject of any murder might be a critical point but LaFlamme disagreed. "There's no death," she stated plainly. … Continue reading →