I have never ever told anyone this before in my life, but when I was in Las Vegas in 1976, I got lost in this big casino on the way to the toilet, and I came across a lone figure, who engaged me in conversation, and it turned out to be Elvis Presley, trying to escape for a few moments from all the hype. We clicked immediately, and he told me I was just the woman he had been searching for. He took me to his room - not his suite on the top floor, but a lovely little private room, where for the rest of my 6 weeks' stay in the States, we spent as much time as we possibly could together.
Is this story any more preposterous than that told by the egregious Tom Jones in a documentary I have just been watching, called "Elvis in Las Vegas" in which the abominable Jones claims to have been an inspiration to Elvis, and to have had an influence on his career? As if! Get real, Jones. You are not worthy of polishing even one of his rhinestones, even after exchanging your big conk for that silly little one.
Alright, I never met Elvis, and I have discovered that he never toured Britain because the diabolical"colonel" was an illegal immigrant in the States, could not travel abroad himself, and so made excuses for Elvis not to tour abroad.
Have I been watching too much television over the Christmas period?
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How I'd have loved to have been Elvis' secret love child, I could have been entitled to some of his estate and eveything.
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