HUMPY,KOO AND ENJOYING A STAB AT HELLO!(Column)

Daily Mail (London) December 5, 1996 Byline: DEBORAH ROSS FOR THOSE of you still hunting for that special person’s Christmas present, I would like to take this opportunity to heartily recommend The Deborah Ross Book of Christmas Games, which would be available from all major bookstores nationwide if only they would agree to stock it. go to site beard trimmer

However, even though they won’t, do not despair: because it is available by mail-order for [pounds sterling]792 per copy. This is a good amount, I know, but once the self-publishing costs have been covered, all profits will go those poor children whose mummies are hoping for new cars in the New Year. If you make the cheque out to me, I will ensure the money is passed on to this most worthy cause.

Anyway, in this excellent book you will find many amusing, novel games, including Bed-A-Celeb Roulette, which has been a favourite in our house for many years.

A game for couples, all you need is a copy of Hello! and a copy of OK!

Then, taking a copy each, you and your partner close your eyes, flick though, and stab in a finger until it alights on someone of the opposite sex. And whoever that is, that’s the person you are destined to marry!

(If your finger comes down on someone of the same sex, a horse, or Camilla Parker-Bowles, who looks like a horse, then the rules say you may have another go.) Having played a round of this with my partner last night, I can now announce my engagement to Englebert Humperdinck. This pleases me no end, because even though he’s now 179 and hasn’t got any prettier, he has gold taps in his bathroom and may possibly be talked out of the leather trousers once we are married. (`Humpy, honey, there’s no nice way of putting this.

You look a twit.’) Before I rushed off to order some `Deb and Dink Are Engaged’ cards from Prontaprint, it was my partner’s go. `Please make it Liz Hurley,’ he pleaded somewhat pathetically as his finger wavered.

Sadly, though, he got a blowsy Liz Taylor in a kaftan instead. And he did not take it well. `It’s not fair,’ he boo-hooed.

I tried to console him by saying it could have been worse – it could have been Gloria Hunniford promoting Cleo therapy , a Slendertone for the fact (OK!, P48, if you dare). But he wouldn’t have it. All right, I finally conceeded, we’ll count that as your practice go.

This time he got Koo Stark, which made him extremely happy. `Koo, Koo,’ he cooed deliriously, even though as far as I can see she has nothing I don’t have apart from a nice body, a pretty face, tumbling auburn hair and an attractive personality.

Anyway, on to my next game which is The Argos Lottery and is also a corker. For this, all you need is an Argos Catalogue. Then, using the same closed eyes and finger-pointing technique, what you do is stab out Christmas presents for each other.

So far, I am due to receive an electric beard trimmer and step-ladder, whereas my partner is getting a waterproof groundsheet and a Disco Barbie, which he also got quite excited about. `Great boob tube,’ he enthused.

However, with regard to the groundsheet, he got the hump again when I suggested this would be most useful when he married Liz Taylor because, used in conjunction with her kaftan as the tent, they need never worry about turning up somewhere and finding all the hotels full.

At this, he cried: `But I didn’t get Liz! Didn’t, didn’t! That was my practice round. I got Koo.’ Honestly, the day Mattel come out with a boob-tubed Disco Koo, I reckon he’ll just die of the pleasure. And, no, I won’t mind – I’ll be too busy playing with Dink’s gold taps by then.

******* SO, HOW much is a housewife worth? Well, according to what I read this week, she’s worth around [pounds sterling]550 a week, which is what it would cost to replace her with cooks, nannies, cleaners and the like.

So I asked my partner what he thought I would cost to replace. `But you’re irreplaceable,’ he said, which I thought very generous, especially as I’m about to run off with Bert.

But then he ruined it all by adding: `By irreplaceable, I mean I don’t think I could phone up an agency and ask them to send around someone who’d come in of a night saying: `I’m starving – who fancies Angel Delight?’ before tumbling on to the sofa and watching whatever happens to be on telly apart from Whose Line Is It Anyway?, because Tony Slattery and Josie Laurence get on her nerves. I don’t think they have those sorts of people on their books.’ I thought this most rude, particularly as I can do other things apart from Angel Delight, like Ready Brek and Vesta curries. Probably, this thing with me and Engle rankles more than he is letting on. this web site beard trimmer

***** I FORGOT to mention my best game of all, which is called Nicholas Scott: What’s Got Into Him Tonight? It’s a party game and what happens is that while one guest lies on the floor, the others have to decide what ails him.

Should they conclude he is worse for drink, then they must shove him out into the cold while shouting after him: `You’re finished in Government.’ However, should the guest immediately teeter back claiming he is only the worse for pain-killers taken for a sprained finger brought on by too many rounds of Bed-A-Celeb, you must test him by saying: `Pull the other one – it’s got bells on it.’ Should he then say: `Bells? Mine’s a double,’ then you know you’ve been had and you must shove the silly old fool out once again.

Anyway, I am so assured of the success of my games that I have already booked my stall at next year’s Toy Fair at the Birmingham NEC. So see you there! But remember to call me Mrs Humperdinck. Which, of course, is who I shall be by then.