I’ve just had my first jab. Big sister said I shouldn’t call it that, I think because it undermines the true gravity of the situation but, when it comes down to it, it is still just a jab; and I might add that writing ‘vaccination’ every time takes nearly four times as long. I’m afraid […]Read More A shot in the arm
Wish. Wash. Wishy, wishy. Wash, wash. Wishy washy wishy washy. Wish. Wash. Did you stand outside with a candle last night? I did, but I wish I hadn’t. After all that pretty pointless hand clapping and pan clanging that punctuated those warm Thursday nights last year and then that even less convincing Boris special edition […]Read More Dark candles.
We’re supposed to learn from history, aren’t we? That’s what most historians tell us (maybe not all – David Irving, for instance, is not the kind of historian you should spend a lot of time paying attention to) – that we should reflect on history and learn from the success and failure of those that […]Read More How we passed on the past.
In the end I gave it a go. At first I thought I was watching an extended sequence of adverts punctuated by clips of some rich people moaning on a planet where no-one really knew what the real world was like. I went in early with my predictions and now I’m coming back late, four […]Read More Ex Royal Flush.
The first series was not much more than a solid distraction, the second a second opinion, and by the third I was committed. It was still a slightly uneasy commitment but by half way through series four I was properly hooked and quite unable to recognise myself anymore. Addiction turned to smitten by the fifth […]Read More Blood. Sex. Magic.
In the back of my head I had at least hoped that by moving to the other side of an ocean and a continent we would hear less of them, but it seems that what scares Meghan and Harry most of all, more than anything else that they claim to be scared of, is to […]Read More The Queen and King of Nothing.
There is a particularly stupid story that has caught my attention this week; all about a horse and a twat. I like horses, but I couldn’t care less about riding them. I once spent a thoroughly miserable afternoon pony trekking on a PGL, and hated every minute of it. My pony could sense my fear, […]Read More All the dead horses.