Did you see the eclipse??? Wow!!! Amazing!!! But of course, you didn’t ‘see’ it, or you’d be at Moorfields with patches on your eyes hoping to restore your destroyed retinas. Unless you’re in the tiny minority of people who actually had ‘eclipse glasses’, accredited with the exact British Standards number! Obviously, if you’re an exploitative – Read More-
Tomorrow is ‘our day off’. Its Lila-Joey-day but due to them being in Crete, our daughter has reluctantly agreed that our services will not be required, having made extensive inquiries with various airlines about flight availability for ‘day trips’ for ‘staff’. So we had booked, a few months ago, a trip to Wakehurst. That’s ‘the – Read More-
It has to first be accepted that newspaper column ‘advice’ is as changeable as the wind. (I’m working on a new metaphor for that as we don’t have wind any more, nor rain). “DRINK RED WINE EVERY DAY AND LIVE TO 120!!!”, one day, followed the next by “AVOID WINE; IT’LL KILL YOU!!!!”. The response – Read More-
If you said to me (and I fucking wish you WOULD!!!), ‘Andy, you can have any car you like; I’ll pay for it’, what would I choose? Well, if I wanted a truck I’d get a Bentley. They have convertibles and it simply MUST be convertible. Range Rover? I’d literally rather take the fucking bus. – Read More-
Yeah, I’ll send my cv over. Its impressive. And my PhD thesis, you’ll like that, its quite brilliant. But basically, I was born a bit odd, developed somewhere on some spectrum, but was consequently a touch ‘Rain Man’, without all the stuttering. When I was 7 I wrote The Merchant of Venice. People said I – Read More-
I’ll just say it once: it’s hot. Fucking hot. Ridiculously hot. Which is not really the point. The point is that it’s been like this… foreverrrrr!!! I can’t remember what rain even looks like. Sleeping under the covers. Wearing long trousers. It’s all consigned to history. The only time I’ve used the tube lately was – Read More-
… a day makes. 24 little hours… Because today, if I use a public toilet I absolutely KNOW that the great fat, threatening, shaven-headed, tattooed, knife-wielding head-case who just stomped in, is in possession of a dick. I don’t have to fear that it might be a ‘trans’ person, pretending that ‘they’ do have a – Read More-
I hate to bang on about Gianni Infantino but… I have to. He’s horrible. He’s vile. And if you are a football fan, you’ll understand my complete contempt of the man. And if you’re not, then go read the new Robert Galbraith novel for the next 3 minutes instead. I’m reading it and it’s fab. – Read More-
If you were around in the 1970s, you’ll remember it was ‘sit-com’ ground zero for British humour. Loads of sit-coms; they just ‘exploded’ into life, like the Cambrian Explosion, when millions of diverse life-forms just ‘appeared’ on the planet. So with comedy shows. Some were brilliant. Like Steptoe & Son. Some were abysmal. Like On – Read More-
I’m thinking that City Airport is my absolute favourite airport in the whole world. But is having a ‘favourite airport’ a bit like having a favourite ‘incurable disease’? Or a favourite ‘London football club which isn’t Spurs’. A favourite poem by Chaucer? Because let’s face it; although we all need airports, they are fucking horrible – Read More-