Cooper Brown: Speed limits
Mulligan called me from Scotland saying that he’d dumped the Lesbian Sticker Lady somewhere near Oban and that she had “got the message”.
I cracked open a celebratory bottle of champagne with Victoria – it always makes her horny which is a double result although I wish there could be a cheaper alternative. Mulligan did let slip one more detail – the batch of stickers the Lesbian Sticker Lady had prepared for my Quattroporte read: “This car’s driver is a threat to women and the planet.”
It is nice not to have Mulligan hanging about all the time. He has a very specific odour – it’s sort of musty, a bit like I imagine a dead goat to smell in the first hours after death. Later I drove into town and got up to 130mph on the Westway. There is a ridiculous 30mph speed limit on it at the moment. The Top Gear dudes said it was because there were workmen underneath doing stuff. I’m pretty confident that I managed to dislodge at least three of them – I have a fundamental dislike of “limits” of any kind; they are for “the little people”, as Leona Helmsley would say. I used to know her a bit back in the day and God she was a snob but so funny with it.
I bumped into Hugh Grant in town and congratulated him on his “Buggergate” coup for the New Statesman. I see no reason why “celebs”shouldn’t be allowed to fight back. I want Kerry Katona to install wire-taps on News International execs. Let them declare total war. Cooper Out.
A handsome bald male, Cooper Brown is a 21st century success story. While doing an internship at Paramount in LA some big shots liked the Cooper style and took him under their wing. Now he’s a veteran of the shallow, backstabbing and treacherous movie industry, and he loves it.