When some people are told they have only a few months to live, they might travel around the world or write their memoirs or put their affairs in order. When it happened at the age of 66 to Miles Kington-one of England's best-loved humorists-he did what he did best, offering sharp, wry, laugh-out-loud observations and ideas about his situation. Following his diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, Kington proposes crazier and crazier ideas for his next book (what he calls "cashing in on cancer") in a series of letters to his literary agent, Gill.
And what sort of things capture Kington's attention in his waning months? The sudden grimness of those 1,000 Places to See Before You Die books, for example. (What about 100 Things to Do Before You Die, Without Leaving Home?, he suggests. Instead of bungee jumping and whitewater rafting, learn to whistle with two fingers in your mouth, yodel, or steam open envelopes.) The irony that his dog, Berry, will probably outlive him, or the semi-outrageous idea of creating a funeral video:
The answer is quite simple.
Make a video in advance of my farewell speech, to be shown on a monitor, from the pulpit, or on a screen behind the stage, or wherever the best place would be.
I have already visualised the opening shot.
It is of me, smiling ruefully, and saying to camera: "Hello. I'm sorry I couldn't be here in person with you today."
Mischievous and utterly original, Miles Kington's words in the face of death are memorable and surprisingly uplifting.
Miles Kington was literary editor of Punch and a writer for the London Times. He also wrote a regular column for The Independent, from its earliest days until the week he died. The author of several bestsellers in the UK, he died of cancer in January 2008.
If you or someone close to you is going through a malady like this, this book will help you find the way through the long, dark tunnel that your journey may take you through.
Instead, Muriel embarks on a courageous quest for health that includes not only her body, but also her psyche and spirit. She discovers that all aspects of her being are woven into one tapestry—you cannot permanently heal one part without the others. In the midst of this journey she has her third bout with cancer. This time she has the understanding and tools to walk away from conventional treatment and practice gentle approaches to becoming and staying well. Ultimately, she is led to the joy and serenity that abide in the deep recesses of her soul—her Invincible Summer.
Welcome back to the absurd yet joyful world of Miles Kington's legendary Franglais guides! C’est une des grande mixtures de l’histoire, comme gin et tonique, oeuf et bacon, ou les deux Ronnies. Cette combinaison de Français et Anglais vous permet une expérience mind-blowing.
MAINTENANT UNE SCRATCH ET SNIFF ÉDITION EBOOK SPECIALE! CHOIX DE TROIS FLAVOURS: GAULOISE/VINAIGRETTE/TARTE TATIN
Si vous comprenez le blurb, essayez l’interieur.
Vous ne serez pas le loser.
Miles Kington was one of Britain’s most renowned and best loved journalists. Born in County Down, he grew up in Wales and was educated in Scotland, which was all a big mistake as he was actually English. A presenter, playwright, polymath and wit, he wrote columns for The Times, the Independent, Punch and The Oldie. His other acclaimed titles include Someone Like Me, How Shall I Tell the Dog? and The Franglais Lieutenant's Woman.
‘Ridiculously funny’ Joanna LumleyBonjour toutes les personnes! Welcome to the wonderful world of Franglais.
The trouble with French is that there are far too few English words in it. Miles Kington – the critic, columnist, and creator of Franglais – puts that right. His magnificent new language can be understood by almost anyone who failed GCSE French. If you passed GCSE French it could be tricky, but do try anyway.
So achetez! Lisez! Et enjoy! Merci beaucoup.
‘What a truly gifted, consistently funny writer’ Maureen Lipman
‘Utterly charming and extremely funny’ Independent
Miles Kington was one of Britain’s most renowned and best loved journalists. Born in County Down, he grew up in Wales and was educated in Scotland, which was all a big mistake as he was actually English. A presenter, playwright, polymath and wit, he wrote columns for The Times, the Independent, Punch and The Oldie. His other acclaimed titles include Someone Like Me, How Shall I Tell the Dog? and The Franglais Lieutenant’s Woman.
Sweat dries. Blood clots. Bones heal. Suck it up, buttercup.
After his deployment in Afghanistan, Dan Caddy began swapping great drill sergeant stories by e-mail with other combat veterans—an exchange with friends that would grow into the dedicated Facebook page, “Awesome Sh*t My Drill Sergeant Said.” But what began as a comedic outlet has evolved into a robust online community and support network that conducts fundraisers for and donates to military charities, has helped veterans struggling with PTSD and other issues, and on numerous occasions, literally saved lives.
Now, Caddy shares more great DS stories—most never before seen—in this humorous collection. Often profane, sometimes profound, yet always entertaining, these rants from real life soldiers are interspersed with lively sidebars, Top 10 lists, stories from fans, one-liners, and more.
For anyone who has suffered a hard-ass manager (in uniform or not), Awesome Sh*t My Drill Sergeant Said will add a much needed dose of humor to the day.
For decades the columns of Miles Kington were a refreshing spot of lunacy in the dull acres of the world's news. From the arguments between gods past and present (as recorded in the minutes of United Deities meetings), to unlikely agony aunts, all-purpose Shakespeare plays, and interviews with ‘sock psychologists’, nothing is too trivial or unlikely to attract Kington’s attention and wit.
Selected here are over a hundred pieces, each a powerful antidote to doom and destruction with their irreverent, absurd and sometimes surreal attitude to life. They are amongst the best journalism and humorous works of the past fifty years. Read on.
‘Every single day over more than two decades, his column [was] witty, topical, erudite, acutely observed...Quite simply, no-one in modern journalism is capable of such an output at such high quality.’ Simon Kelner
‘As with the very best in any sphere of endeavour, Miles’s trick was to make it look easy. His lightness of touch amounted to a kind of genius. But behind the conversational prose lay craftsmanship of the highest order. His standards never wavered.’ Simon O’Hagan