It’s deal day. For some, fairly arbitrary it must be said, reason, today is deal or no deal day for Brexit. Either we skulk away into self-imposed isolation never to eat a croissant again, or we skulk away into self-imposed isolation eating croissants which cost £320 and can only be made with produce sourced at – Read More-
Here’s some breaking news!!! If you bang your head repeatedly against a really hard object (brick wall, wooden floor, heavy old football, car door, someone’s fist or an 18 stone prop forward), its going to fuck up your head. Holy shit!!! Who’d’a known that???? I’m not making light of head injuries, they are horrible. And – Read More-
Look, I never wanted to be a tv critic, but as this dire, dreadful, despicable disease destroys and devastates, causing death and destruction and… diarrhea? (sorry, needed a ‘d’ word), then I’m given time to observe televisual entertainment, provided for the masses because its cheaper than giving us all drugs, in a way I’d never previously – Read More-
When Mauricio Pochettino was sacked by Spurs I was devastated. And later, that very same day, when Jose Morinho was appointed new manager, I was… even more devastated. Distraught. It was ‘the worst day of my life’ (pre-covid). It was ‘the end’. Well, ‘the end’ ended yesterday. And has metamorphasised into a new beginning. As – Read More-
Roald Dahl was an anti Semite. He wasn’t a neo-nazi, wasn’t really politically affiliated at all. Didn’t hold extremist views, wasn’t a ‘white supremicist’, he just didn’t like Jews. Any of them. He didn’t know me, specifically, but he wouldn’t have liked me if he had done. On principle. Not the principle that I’m not – Read More-
I come to bury the Essix Gels stereotypical image, not to praise it. But while I’m here I might as well clear the air? No. Possibly just use an example of the terrible injustices perpetrated on the maidens (not in any virginal sense, trust me) of that county. Merely to show you how terrible the – Read More-
I used that title in a pure act of word association. Eton… mess? Eton… nothing. Only ‘mess’ and rifles. Brilliant song by the Jam in about nineteen seventy-something during Paul Weller’s ‘angry phase’. Which has so far lasted for over 40 years, and counting. Anyway… so as I mentioned previously, Eton have sacked a teacher – Read More-
Any American people reading this: close the page now. You simply won’t get what follows. (I’d normally include those northern Americans, what they called?… errr… oh yeah, Canada-people, in that generalisation because they share their sports, but the only Canuck likely to read this, actually and controversially, will get it). Yesterday’s nil-nil draw at Chelsea – Read More-
I love a Prime Minister. Just, not necessarily this one. But Boris was, in the real world, a journalist and more, a right wing, overly verbose, reactionary, quite eloquent journalist with a penchant for metaphorical references drawn from his degree in classics and his love of history. In other words; he was just made for – Read More-
Tomorrow is a day beyond massiveness. Nothing to do with vaccines. Nothing to do with death, cars, stellar events, black holes or the price of milk. Spurs are playing Chelsea. On the 1000th match of Roman Abramavich’s ownership of that sad and sorry football club. And as a protest against most of the appalling, money-encrusted – Read More-