Where international rugby is concerned I’m always conscious of being respectful of all teams. Ok, ‘respectful’ can translate to ‘fearful’ when it’s the All Blacks, as it will be next weekend. But I have lots of respect for Ireland, for Wales, South Africa, certainly Japan, not quite so much France. Then there’s Australia. Which is – Read More-
The deal’s done, the Euros have been conquered by the sheer charm, the amazing wit, the scintillating charisma and analytical sharpness of the fat blond geezer wot runs our country. I hope they locked their wives and daughters up for the duration of his stay. There was lots of bonhomie and back-slapping and congratulations and – Read More-
It’s a marmite issue. Brexit. Football. Strictly Come Prancing. Coronation Street. And marmite. Things that people love or hate. Yes or no. On or off. There’s no middle ground, there’s no ‘grey’, its totally divisive. And nothing more so than marmite, hence it wins the rights to claim metaphorical status for all things in that – Read More-
Fantastic thing in the paper about people getting fat. OldER people. Middle aged. Which I almost remember. Though not getting fat. So a bunch of 40 year-old Scandinavians were monitored for 13 years. What they ate, what exercise they did, how many calories consumed. There were both men and women and for such a long – Read More-
I’m still intrigued by the couple who won’t tell anyone, including their own parents, the gender of their baby. They want it to be ‘neutral’. Which is really nice and thoughtful. If you’re a vegan tree-hugger who likes seriously fucked up children who’ll need a lifetime’s therapy. Otherwise it is basically, using their child as – Read More-
Real men play tennis in the rain. FACT. Ok, maybe ‘in the drizzle’ because if balls get soggy, heavy, nasty, that ain’t no fun and the ground gets slippery so even my super K-Swiss, cross-tread, super-grip, climb-up-a-fucking-wall-like-Spiderman!!!! tennis shoes can’t really cope and that could spell disaster. At my age. But what about rugby? Holy – Read More-
About 5 years ago there was always a ‘Driving’ supplement in the Sunday Times. Only 8/10 pages, but its own thing, separate from the rest. So Jeremy Clarkson could wax lyrical about the latest hypercar that no-one reading the paper was ever going to afford and even if they could, there’s only 17 being produced – Read More-
It’s over. All the Brexit bollocks has finally reached an end, a conclusion, the pound’s recovered (a bit), the future looks rosy and everything is good again in the Kingdom. We have a deal! Ok, we have the basis of the fundamentals of the possibility of a mere chance of a deal, but even that – Read More-
So it was Lila-day and everything was… was Lila. The entire day revolves around this tiny little two-and-a-half (almost) year old bundle of manic enthusiasm. It is brilliant, it is endlessly funny and it is totally exhausting. And we have a rule in our house, as far as Lila is concerned, which is this: THERE – Read More-
I don’t really do religion. It’s just not my thing. I do Kultcheral religious stuff, because its part of our Kultcha, innit, and allows me to eat chopped liver and challah, the foods of the gods. But actual prayin’?? Naaaah. Praying in English, most of which I understand, always seems like total nonsense. Praying in – Read More-