You can’t buy class. Ask any football manager. But in Britain its actually a fact. ‘Class’ is what posh aristocrats have, what they’re born with, what they’ve inherited from their prestigious forebears and for everyone else, no amount of Ferraris, tattoos or semi-naked selfies can buy it. An impoverished, unemployed scrounger is thus ‘better’ than – Read More-
I’m closely following the American election… stuff. Closely. Every day a new state votes for… something, and then Trump and Hilary both win and the confetti flows and the champagne fizzes and we all hug and celebrate. Then we do it again tomorrow. In a different state. I can’t claim to understand how it works. – Read More-
Oh dear. The Top Gear team took a wonderful, pimped up, drag-racery Mustang out in Westminster to burn rubber and make a bit of a noise and nuisance. Because its Top Gear, albeit Top Gear Nouveau, and that’s what Top Gear does, riiiiiight!!!! Its LOUD, its lairy, its irreverent, mean, nasty and don’t give a – Read More-
We’ve all been there. (Some of us far more often than we’d like). You get to your tube station and head for the escalators to take you upwards, skywards, streetwards. And there’s fifteen hundred people in the way (always) queuing to take the right hand side of the escalator, the ‘standing still’ side, and four – Read More-
I don’t think I’m a bad person. I love my family. I give to charity. I help old ladies across the street. Then mug them. I give people the benefit of the doubt. Then hit them anyway. And I try to do the right thing at all times. So why does it make me so – Read More-
Yeah-haah. This weekend every time I turn on the tv (other than the rugby; oh the wonderful rugby), its been country music. “But I don’t like Country music”, I think. Who does? A few inbred, cowboy-hatted truck driver rapists and their peroxided sisters/lovers/wives/rape-victims, (as if there’s a difference in Kentucky.) All in lines doing silly – Read More-
In the ‘old days’ when Spurs played in grey, Arsenal in grey, Chelsea in a slightly different grey and Newcastle in black’n’white, football managers bossed the clubs. They also wore long, grey overcoats and grey hats. Underneath were suits and ties. All grey. Always. We watched them on tv. They were called ‘the Boss’ or – Read More-
As a liberal, left-leaning pseudo-Tory capitalist-socialist (I think that covers most of it), I struggle to see how the proper ‘left’, those more Marx than Blair, more Livingstone than Lenin, how they view the world. I get some of it. But where I struggle is why they’re always so keen on terrorism. Jeremy Corbyn is – Read More-
Gwyneth Paltrow is launching something else. Something new. Something other than the 72,000 things she already produces in the diet, nutrition, fashion and book publishing lines. She’s getting into ‘skincare’. Never one to not maximise her Oscar for Shakespeare in Love in about 1975, she keeps that rollercoaster rolling, consciously coupling with new ideas all – Read More-
I haven’t mentioned this before, because its rather shameful, but I have to admit that last December at my tennis club I tested positive for caffeine. We don’t so much have ‘random drug testing’ like they do at Wimbledon, more that in a club with an average age for members of about 79, incontinence is – Read More-