Yippe-yiiy-yaay; Uber have been given another licence to… to Ube. Once more we can press a button on our phones and be taken anywhere in the entire fucking world for nothing. Well, not exactly ‘nothing’ but without the need to handle that dirty, folding stuff for payment. And that is, quite frankly, brilliant. A 15-month – Read More-
They say Rome’s hot. London’s hotter. Trust me, I’ve tested it. And apparently its hotter than Rio, hotter than everywhere. We are, in the rather silly world of ‘competitive weathering’ Heat Central. Which is fab, of course, until you get on the tube or try to sleep. But we cope because its so wonderful to – Read More-
We didn’t exactly get ‘thrown out’ of the Vatican, because at the last moment I managed to not cry out ‘YID ARMEEEEE’ on grounds of impropriety. But we were turned away from the entry. Because Mel is such a hooligan. Ok, she was wearing a (gorgeous little, obvs) dress that failed to cover her shoulders. – Read More-
The last bastion of pure maleness has been breached. The last domain in which men ruled, seemingly unopposed, has now fallen beneath the great sword of equality. And I’m not talking about football, the game that has for many years been played by gels as well as boys, but football commentary and punditry. Gary Linneker – Read More-
When you arrive at the Coliseum you do so with a pre-assembled cast of 42,000 people. At least 29,000 of whom are trying to sell you, in order of annoyance: ‘Beat the queue’ tickets, but the queue to buy those was way bigger than the one to get in. Bottles of water. To whom I – Read More-
I’m lovin’ Rome. Lovin’ it. Though it is hot. Hot as hell. Which I think is very appropriate as our apartment is in the shadow of the Vatican. You can almost see the Basilico from our room. If your neck is 17 feet long. And Catholicism and hell just go hand in hand. On so – Read More-
I’m going to Rome. To visit the Pope. To speak Latin. Have a toga party. To drink capuccino, in its natural habitat. To watch the world cup in a place where they have no personal interest. And to go to a wedding. Which is tomorrow. And that’s exciting. Almost as exciting as the fact that – Read More-
I have never received a ‘sext’. Perhaps I would have if Mel could use her phone properly, but that will never happen. No-one else ‘sexts’ me so I’m a loser. Because this activity is now so common that 70% of ‘young’ people have received them. And this is how they voted: the men, receiving naked, – Read More-
Football’s coming home. That’s the song from the world cup of 2006 that poured out the nation’s emotions about how its about time we brought the World Cup ‘home’, to England, where it belongs. The land of the 3 lions. Ahhhhh. There’s a big difference between ‘football’s coming home’ and ‘the footballers are coming home’, – Read More-
Its my birthday. Ok, the line is: ‘its my party…’ but I’m allowed. Because its my birthday. So I’m allowed anything I want. Except for one thing. Cannabis oil. Its illegal. Not in many countries but in the UK, its illegal. Even though its ‘medical grade’ and prescribed by doctors. So I can’t have it – Read More-