So glad to see you back here, DominoDarling. We're all on your side! You certainly seem to have pushed a button with your happy recollection of laughter and companionable car journeys on the Continent! Suddenly the emphasis of the Diary has shifted, and now it's all wall-to-wall laughing and hilarious fun in the convertible Mercedes. It can only be a matter of time before we start hearing about how he's never laughed this much with anyone else before....

This week's entry might as well been called: "In which I show David's ex that two can play at that driving-round-France-laughing-our-heads-off" game!"

On a more serious note, is anyone else somewhat concerned about the casual attitude to eating baguettes (and this comes just a week or two after the story about eating a pudding which contained wheat, and being ill afterwards)? I'm no expert in these matters, but as I understood it, being coeliac means NEVER being able to consume ANY gluten, ever again, as it would make the person really very ill indeed?

Good for you

Every time I think of this I imagine that bit in Where Do You Go To My Lovely where he sings "for a laugh, ah ha ha".


Yes indeed. The silly woman is implying David has been lying about his coeliacs, which is not exactly good for his business, is it? Or that he's wilfully trying to make himself ill in her presence, I don't know which looks worse. "I am happy in my life. I have never loved anyone as much as love the highest paid journalist in Britain, Liz Jones. Look at the iPads and gold Dunhill lighters she has showered upon me. My life is indeed perfect and draped in cashmere. Happy happy happy." *frantically guzzles poison*

Certainly not a good advertisement for 'his' business, either he has got the condition and is deliberately ignoring it, maybe even having somesome sort of breakdown, or he's never had it and can't keep up the pretence. Either way his business partners need to have an urgent meeting about not just the dangerous game he is playing but the effect this and the continuing ridicule of him via The Diary will have on the company.

At £1 per word, I can imagine LJ preferring the above to, say, 'LMFAO'

Yes, I did... Jim Kerr under a 'nom-de-plume'.

I mean if you'd been linked to Lizard - as a Simple Mind, even though you'd have to be the owner of a simple mind - you'd do your best to distance yourself at every opportunity.

Given the second article this week, it may be that Lizard is beginning to think more positively about her box and how it's confined her. Its genesis may have occurred around the time that Liz had the 'rampant-stallion' - 'deranged donkey' - tattoo stamped on her upper arm.

Until now I believed that Liz's only reason for wandering in to an Ann Summers store would be to save a discounted rabbit from being sold for stewing purposes... but in her latest farticle, the 'de-norked' Liz definitely shows signs of morphing into Anais Nin. And I'm wondering whether David is really the incarnation of Henry Miller... whose karmic lessons this time around are related to personal-hygiene and discrimination in finding someone worthy to look after to his tennis-bats.

And now - with your assistance - Wynne, I'm considering Liz's recent moves afresh. I too am thinking out of her box... sorry 'the box' ! And I'm wondering whether Liz's recent zoo-transplant from Dulverton to Yorkshire could possibly be down to her need for implant and nork-reconstruction advice from Josie Cunningham ? In return for a packet of fags of course.

Who knows what direction her dreary diary will take in the future ? Though I'll bet that Mairead - her psychic-healer - would know.

Sadly I'm neither a psychic nor a betting-man... but I'd guess that it'll take more than a tattoo and a good sh4g to sort her out, and my money would be on her diary headers being back to 'In which...' very soon.

OH yes, M rCurmudgeon,I definitely get the morphing into Anais Nin ... and I reckon that any time now she'll also be channelling the D. H. Lawrence 'Lady Chatterley' vibe ... perhaps some beautifully descriptive French bucolic scene in the Dreary 'In which we are lying in a lay-by in the industrial estate just behind Cavalaire and he threads thyme, oregano and lavender flowers in my pub ...' (oops, sorry, the Lizard has been throroughly plucked,) '... in my dyed hair that I only ever wash in organic free range designer water and a very expensive shampoo that I told David is FAR more fabulous than Garnier Fructis ... '.

A sensual, erotic master-piece in the making. And all this 'as the baker's nicotine-stained fingers knead her soft buttery, naked femininity.'

I'm going to have to take a cold shower now. On second thoughts I'll probably just get myself a mug of line-caught, free-range Horlicks and take some well deserved shut-eye, perchance to dream of myself as one very lucky and fabulous baker boy.

There is no cure for coeliac disease. It's a difficult life to lead though, not eating gluten. As a very talented gluten free chef I think the urge to eat those amazing French baguettes got the better if him as unlike a lot if other coeliacs, he is used to eating really good gf food and presumably there was suddenly none! But when you get absolutely no sympathy when you do 'stray from the gluten free path' I guess you cover it up and pretend you are not suffering at all! Mmmmm glad my relationship is more caring so I don't have to lie

Good for you. And similarly, I imagine Mr Domino doesn't have to put up with public ridicule masquerading as affectionate joshing, re: his age, alleged liver spots, alleged general decrepitude..

At 63 to LJ's 55 years, Mr Scrace is not exactly Humbert Humbert to LJ's Lolita!

I'm younger than her and my man is my age. But if you don't have respect for someone and love them no matter what then you are being unfair to that person. If I wasn't proud of the person I was with, for their sake as well as mine, I wouldn't stay in the relationship.

A little mood music for a couple driving through St Trop in a reeeallly expensive Mercedes convertible : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hI1nPd7hezM&feature=kp

LOVE it, Virginia Plain. Absolutely right for The Greatest Love Story Ever Told ...

That's absolutely right, but how can you respect someone else if you don't respect yourself ? There's no integrity... you're continually in conflict... and that's Lizard.

I would say that most of us entering our fifties have repeatedly had life drum that lesson in to us and have finally 'got it'. Unfortunately Lizard hasn't... or even if she has, she'd rather prostitute her piss-poor journalistic skills in return for filthy lucre and material gain than live a decent life, showing some respect to those with whom she comes into contact.

As has been said many times before, she knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.

As I understand it, although Jonesey's birthdate is often cited as 1958, there is some currency in the notion that it is somewhat earlier. In addition to which, Dscrace has been described, by her, as being 12 years older than her! She's so out of touch with her own lies and deceits, I dare say she doesn't know which way is up these days, which may save Dscrace some embarrassment...

I wonder which of her physical traits makes him larf and larf? Is it the tongue too big for her mouth? Or her jug-ears? Or the totes hilar way she grinds her jaw around? Or her receding hairline? The long summer evenings must simply fly by, on the odd moments when he's worryingly in the room and not trying to top himself by guzzling wheat-based comestibles...

^
I'm not a Coeliac, but still need to follow a gluten-free diet. Sadly, even if Johnny Depp himself turned up on my doorstep with the proverbial flowers and (gluten-free) chocs, there would be no miracle cure

To be fair to the grammatically challenged, piss-poor excuse for a journalist, she was born in 1958: her last excuse for a book contained enough family info (although not all entirely accurate) to establish the ages of the whole family. I've done a basic family tree. How sad am I ?

Oh Bellagio, you must be the saddest saddo that ever lived.

I know...

I think that’s an absolutely charming thing to do, Bellagio – the Lizard’s Family Tree. I trust that once you’ve worked it out, you’ll employ a team of arty monks to produce it on organic, line-caught, vegan vellum, suitably illuminated with gold leaf.
Naturally, this should include a Jones crest, to enhance the beautiful document. I’m sure you have this well in hand,Bellagio, and I believe that the College of Arms are most helpful with this.
My humble suggestions that the crest should go the whole hog – it’s what the Lizard would want – and surely ought to include appropriate marginalia – perhaps tartan, to represent the clothes the Lizard was forced to wear as a child when she yearned for Vogue? There should be escutcheons, a crest and mantling – may I suggest the mantling should comprise artfully arranged soft buttery vegan leather jeans cunningly yet artistically twisted with Prada T-shirts, intermingled with silver Manolos? A pair of plucking tweezers poised above the shield would be a nice and most elegant touch. The helm, of course, should comprise a symbolic and miserable face with Botox and ‘filler’ needles poised to the sides. The shield element should be supported by a very fat horse with raised paws rampant and a sick cat. Most important, a fitting motto, in Latin, must be included. Perhaps others here may suggest an appropriate one? My humble offering is:

Ego sum a vere bardus mulier

Grammatically challenged? Piss-poor? Do you think helping fat women and drawing attention to famines in Britain's second biggest industry is PISS-POOR? DO YOU? Are you David's serious-minded friend Y in disguise????

Well poor Liz is unsurprisingly suffering in her buttery soft jocks once again. But it's all because she CARES so MUCH and wants to make David's life easier. Just so long as David's life fits into a preordained mould she's created for it. He should be updating his Facebook daily with breathless updates. "In a relationship <3 with the incredible halfmillionpoundayear matchless peerless beautiful and kind LIZ JONES, the ONLY woman I have EVER LOVED!" He should give up smoking! (Incidentally, if you want to dissuade someone from smoking, why give them a lighter?) He should be more interested in gazing lovingly into her smeary eyes in the morning as he hands over her hand-ground cold-brewed Illy, not rolling a smoke like some sort of artery-clogged ADDICT.

The foie gras was totally trolling though. Mean David. Maybe now that his coeliacs has been cured by LIz's love, and his bread eating hasn't worked, he's hoping that she'll become enraged and put him out of his misery with a fork.

Today's Dreary - in which David carries on being a real person and not the fantasy figure she invented him as. Bad David. How dare he not stick to the script in her head.

How does she defend fat women? Are her references to 'giant breasts' that knock her off the path when their owners jog past her some kind of respectful comment and I've misunderstood her and thought she was just a rude spiteful cow? Did I misinterpret her comments about Kirsty Allsopp?

And she can't possibly want coffee in the mornings because hot drinks are a sign of weakness. Must be a misprint there.

Bazinga !

Did you see the thinly veiled threat earlier this week (in the abysmal review of Caitlin Moran's book in the Standard) that Jizzard has a novel out shortly? Yup... Britain's premier peddler of pap is writing a novel. I know nothing of the content, but suspect it might revolve around the life of a poor Essex girl called Miz, brought up in penury with nary a pony for company, who dreams dreams of the bright lights! Of the world of fashun! There will be appallingly bad sex. halves of various fruit and veg and a hippy ending. Betcha.