Adrian Mole and The Weapons of Mass Destruction Read Online Free

copy for her.
    To keep her on the phone, I asked her if dolls went in for loft-type homes. She said that she would get in touch with the National Association of Miniature Enthusiasts, of which she was a member, and that it could be her next project.
    When I put the telephone down I felt that old feeling, that mixture of joy and fear, I feel just before I fall in love.
Tuesday October 8th
    There was an incredible coincidence last night. My mother defrosted a shepherd’s pie she had made some weeks earlier. The carrots were chaotically distributed. Surely this is a sign. I asked my mother what had compelled her to take the shepherd’s pie out of the freezer. She said, ‘Hunger.’
Wednesday October 9th
    A letter from Glenn.
    Royal Logistics Corps
    Deepcut Barracks
    Surrey
    Dear Dad
    Hope you are well. I am well. I’m sorry I have not wrote to you before. I have been very busy doing my basic training. They keep us going 24/7. It is nothing but shouting and being sarcastic. Some of the lads cry in the dormitories at night. Sometimes I feel like walking out and coming home, Dad. I hope I stick it. Will you come to my passing-out parade on Friday November 1st? I would like Mum and Grandma and Grandad to come. I know William can’t come because he is in Africa. I think you was wrong, Dad, to send William to live with his mum. It was you who brought him up. You should have kept him here in England with you. I know Jo Jo is nice,but William can’t speak Nigerian and he doesn’t like the food. I seen Pandora on the telly the other night. I told some of the lads that she used to be my dad’s girlfriend, but nobody believed me because she is posh. They are taking the piss out of me now, Dad, and calling me Baron Bott. That is all the news.
    Warmest wishes,
    Your son, Glenn
    I just remembered, tell Grandma Pauline she has got to wear a hat. It is the law.
    Why did he need to add ‘your son’? How many other Glenns do I know who are in the army?
    I showed my mother Glenn’s letter.
    She said, ‘I’ll wear the mink hat I’ve had in the wardrobe for the last thirty years. There aren’t likely to be any anti-fur protesters on an army parade ground, are there?’
Thursday October 10th
    A middle-aged fat man came into the shop this morning and asked for a ‘clean copy’ of
Couples
by John Updike.
    I said, quite wittily I thought, a clean copy of
Couples
is an oxymoron surely.
    Fatty said irritably, ‘Have you got it or not?’
    Mr Carlton-Hayes had heard our conversation and was already searching through American Hardback Fiction. When he found
Couples
, he delivered it into Fatty’s podgy hands, saying, ‘A fascinating social document about thesexual mores of people with rather too much time on their hands, I think.’
    Fatty mumbled that he would take it. As he was leaving the shop, I saw him look at me and distinctly heard him mutter, ‘Moron.’ Though, thinking about it later, he could have said, ‘Oxymoron.’
    Nigel called in this afternoon after his eye clinic appointment at the Royal Hospital. He is supposed to be my best friend, but it is over six months since I saw him in the flesh.
    The last time I spoke to him was on the phone. He had said that he couldn’t bear the gay clubs in the provinces, where they huddle together for validation and companionship, instead of like the London clubbing scene, ‘the music and the sex’.
    I had said that there was more to life than music and sex.
    He’d replied, ‘That’s the difference between us, Moley.’
    I was shocked at how much he has changed. He is still handsome, but his face looks a bit ragged around the edges, and it’s obviously been a while since he’d seen his hair colourist.
    He was still visibly shocked at his recent bad news. He said, ‘The consultant examined my eyes and was quiet for a horribly long time, and then he said, “Did you drive yourself here, Mr Hetherington?” I told him that I had driven up from London. He said, “I’m afraid I