Ah, serendipity…

Serendipity is such a good word. The more you write it and say it in your head, the more playful and pleasing that ‘dipity’ becomes.

Other words become displeasing the more you write them.

‘From’ seems odd with repeated outings. From. From. From. ‘Tis gibberish.

‘Awkward’ also mutates after a time. Awkward. Awkward. Awkward. It’s the double ‘w’ with that ‘k’ sandwiched inbetween…a monstrosity of nonsense.

The word serendipity was coined in the mid 1700’s by English author Horace Walpole after he read a Persian fairytale called ‘The Three Princes of Serendip.’ He reflected that: “as their highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accident and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of.”

Which in pleb-speak means: when cool shit happens and it’s even cooler coz you weren’t looking for it.

Before moving on, let us take a brief detour to discuss ‘sagacity’ which is not a word you hear every day and does not refer to an urbanisation populated by the elderly. To be sagacious is to be perceptive, discerning.

Serendipity is much more likely to occur if you are sagacious, otherwise good shit might happen and you won’t notice. But you mustn’t be too sagacious, because that might lead to actively searching for the good shit, which if it then happened, would not be an example of serendipity, but of…desperation. And desperation is an unpleasantly consonant-heavy word describing an unpleasant state of being.

Are you still with me?

Well done. You must be a sagacious sort.

The point of all this agonising wordsmithery is because I have today experienced a splendid moment of serendipity.

As operation “giz’ a job” gets firmly under way, I have been examining my options, career-wise and there are currently two front-runners.

The first idea came from a friend who suggested I set up a winery because I clearly already have some expertise in this area. I can’t be arsed with all the grape-growing so I’d just buy a load of grapes from Tesco and pay some slaves (my kids) to spend ages squishing them in a bucket.

The fun bit is being all technical and sciencey about the developing of it. I’d set up a sort of wine-lab and wear a white coat all day whilst mixing and measuring stuff, sipping everything and making reams of sagacious notes. All in the pursuit of a perfect glass of the red stuff.

Option two is for me to get in to the custom porn industry. At the weekend I read an article about this booming trade where people pay a production company to make them a porn film shot entirely to their specifications; the scenario, script and ‘actors’ all chosen by them. One fella had commissioned several films featuring naked women in heels trashing his prized stamp collection whilst saying things like “I hate these fuckin’ shitty stamps.”

This is PERFECT for me. I love performing. Also, because I’m a writer, the scripts would be of superior quality. Plus I’m a naturally giving, community-minded person and would feel I was providing a vital service for those whose porn needs just weren’t being met by the exisiting trillion-dollar industry churning out trillions of rudey films a year.

Whilst selfie-ing my face off in a pseudo-lab coat with a bottle of wine and a pen to illustrate the cleaner of the two career options for this post, it became clear that I was unable to strike a sciencey pose without being all…porny about it.

Try it yourself. It’s impossible to pose as a lab-techie sciencey character without being a bit saucy. (Unless you are an actual lab-techie sciencey person in which case the donning of a white coat and messing about with funnels and pens is unlikely to be a novelty that arouses. Unless it does. In which case, well done you for finding such a satisfying, multi-layered career).

This was the serendipitous moment.

These two employment options suddenly became one, right before my geeky, bespectacled eyes. I could see my one and only true career path: I must provide porn films featuring me as a saucy vintner.

It will, I grant you, be a somewhat niche market, but if there are people who will pay to watch you decimate their stamp collection, surely there are people who will pay to watch a slightly squidgy, overly made-up, middle-aged, tired woman make wine.

The added bonus being that I also get to make ACTUAL WINE all day. And then drink it. You think the drinking of the wine would serve a different porn demographic?

Ah, the options are endless!

If this idea appeals, do write in and let me know. And for you 71 readers in India, many of whom repeatedly ask me for naked pics, the answer is now YES. After you’ve paid me via paypal.

The best thing? After years of unpaid toil and clowning, I’ll finally be able to support myself and make my Dad proud, giving him something to really gloat about to his friends.

Be sagacious people. Let serendipity happen…