Look, I hate plum jam. I only joined the WI to make my mother happy. I do, I hate plum jam, I'm crap at cakes, I can't make sponge. In fact, seeing as it is very unlikely that George Clooney would ever come to Skipton to do a talk on what it was like to be in ER, I see very little reason for me to actually stay in the WI. Except suddenly- suddenly, I want to raise money in memory of a man I loved. And to do that, I'm prepared to take me clothes off for a WI calendar, and if you can't give us ten minutes of your time, Madam Chairman, well then, frankly, guys, I'm going to do it with out council approval, because there are some things that are more important than council approval. A-a-and if it means that we get closer to killing off this shitty, cheating, sly, conniving, bloody disease that cancer is- Oh God, I tell you- I'd run around Skipton Market naked smeared in plum jam, wearing nothing but a knitted tea cozy and singing "Jerusalem".
There is so much to love about that paragraph. I do like plum jam. I love it. I just made a batch, and I want to make more. I ate a bowl of it for lunch. I did.
So, to the first person who tells me what movie that paragraph is from, what the name of the actor/actress saying it, and the year the movie was released will be given a jar of my FABULOUS plum jam. If you want to smear it on your naked body and go through the market singing Jerusalem, that is completely up to you. Leave your comment on the blog (not facebook if you followed the link).