I am running out of space at the bottom of our garden next to the swimming pool filter-box. You see, that is where I bury the bodies of all friends and associates who have tried to con me into joining their Amway scams.
Many years ago, a former friend whose remains now fertilise a beautiful rose bush, lead me on a tale of cunning and deceit matched only by those Jason Bourne movies. All questions I posed about this mysterious meeting we were to have with an acquaintance of hers were met with the most carefully scripted replies. Had the CIA flown in under cover of darkness and zipped her off to Guantanamo Bay for endless weeks of interrogation, they would have been no wiser than I was and would have ended up at the only place worse than Guantanamo Bay – an Amway meeting. Continue reading