I’m sleeping badly. Wake up with that NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO… thought in my head, which is aching. I’m listless, a bit shaky, disorientated, flustered, nervous, irritable. The world is a little off-axis. And there’s no cure. Well, not until Saturday. It always happens when there’s no ‘proper’ football. No Premiership football. Just poxy internationals. They’re not the – Read More-
Twerking, in case you were wondering, is a form of artistic expression. Female artistic expression generally but I don’t think its one of those gender exclusive things like throwing a ball or parking a car or ironing a shirt or having a greater than 1 in 250 chance of chairing a Footsie 100 company. But – Read More-
My body’s a temple. And by all rights should actually look like one. Squat, solid, hefty, round and bulbous. But it doesn’t. I look like a god. Or a dog. Or any anagram of those three letters. By virtue of fortuitous genes, a high metabolism or both. Or that the medical profession are a lying – Read More-
“and now here is the weather, sponsored by Anne Summers…” How can you sponsor the weather? What; do you arrange raindrops to land with ‘E-on’ logos on them, or shaped like Kellogs products? Wind that smells of Cadbury’s chocolate (ahhhh, if only), sunshine by RayBan. Oh, they mean the weather ‘report’ that’s sponsored, oh, that’s – Read More-
Stephen King changed my life. Though not necessarily in a good way. Depends what you mean by ‘good’ I suppose. If you mean scared of the dark, frightened of shadows, alarmed by noises at the windows, wetting the bed and freaking out when you hear the words ‘Here’s Johnny!!’, then its good. Otherwise, ‘paranoid neurotic’ – Read More-
yeah, but will it win any football matches? I suppose it depends what you consider as ‘English’. Jack Wilshire, little English Bulldog, terrier-type Arsenal (so we should check for rabies) philosopher, summed it up rather succinctly when he stated that ‘only English people is English and to play for England ya gorra be English. Innit.’ – Read More-
Now here’s an interesting thing. If you go to http://andysglasses.com/ and scroll down to the bottom there’s a ‘subscribe’ thingy. And if you put your email address in there you get a notification when new blogs are posted. So you, er, won’t miss anything, errr, like, errr, really important. Its so easy. A child of – Read More-
That’s it, finished, over, done and dusted, the end of the line, been and gone, no more tomorrows. Because this is the last of my daily emails you’re ever going to receive. I’m done, I’m over it, I’m moving on. But don’t fret, don’t panic, stop your sobbing, put the razor down, life WILL still – Read More-
You know the phrase ‘an accident waiting to happen’ (which Mel often uses in what is quite frankly a cruel reference to my at times slightly clumsy side, though admittedly she is often the recipient of such klutzy events and bears many a scar), anyway, Lauren Booth was a ‘Muslim waiting to happen’. Lauren is – Read More-
I’m a ‘good jew’. Because I go to shul. On Rosh Hashanna AND Yom Kippur. Both days. I make sacrifice for my religion. I don’t play tennis. I give up the ‘never shower and shave on saturday morning’ rule for the day. I don’t eat for fu- for heaven’s sake. For 25 hours. Holy moly. That’s serious. But the starvation is not a punishment. Then we’d be Catholics. They punish, they beat, flagellate, rip their own flesh and repent. Boy do they repent. But they have a lot to repent for, generally. And because we live in a predominantly Christian society we’re tapped into that form of culture in which you sin, you have to repent. With blood. Or suffering. Or for really serious stuff; just a few ‘hail marys will do’. – Read More –