Aint got nun, never had nun, dont want nun...
was a job I wasn't exactly looking forwards to and I couldn't even work
out why they had selected me for the piece, -but such is the fickle world
of magazines? I had not long completed a week at The Crazy Horse in Paris
for The Observer, a club full of strippers which had also equally put
the wind up me, as the prospect of a week with a convent full of nuns
was now doing.
I was fearful that these women would be humourless and difficult company, and that I might accidentally swear or not know what to talk to them about. I couldn't have been more wrong. My (female) assistant and I spent a blissful week with them and talked to them about all sorts of things, spending much of the conversation laughing. There was actually nothing or no subject that was off limits or taboo to them, which came as a great surprise (not to mention relief) to your hero and humble narrator.
tempted to tell them the joke about the blind man (you know the one, the
Mother Superior in the bath and the young nun enters to tell her the blind
man is here and she tells her well let him in -thinking that
he cannot see, but he says nice pair of tits luv, -now where do
you want these blinds?'), -but thought better of it?