In a way I am grateful to Meghan Markle, sorry, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex, because thanks to her I can now at least say that I am not the worst writer in the world. She’s only gone and written a kids book, has the people’s Duchess. Another string to her fluffy bow. Come on […]Read More Bench Markle.
I have never been to Bromley. I wouldn’t quite say that quite qualifies as an achievement, but in an odd way it is something to be mildly proud of. Why go to Bromley? What emptiness can a soul bear that Bromley could ever possibly fill? It is an absolute given that there are many better […]Read More Park it.
You may recall that the moustachioed soul sweat monster Edwin Starr addressed the problem in as early as 1970 as he manfully proposed: “Caterpillars, huh, yeah. What are they good for? Absolutely nothing, huh.”, thus ruthlessly exposing an issue that had hitherto been on absolutely nobody’s agenda. Naturally the global lepidopterologist community leapt (no pun […]Read More Caterpillar Fury.
“Thanks for that Jenny, looks like great funeral weather for this afternoon. Welcome back, I’m Matthew Colon, and let us take you straight over to Windsor for a, well, a guided tour if you like of what we can expect to see as the day unfolds, a day when a nation mourns the death of […]Read More At 3pm, this afternoon.
I’ve been waiting a while to see how things develop. I’ve been waiting a while to see what he’ll do, what he’ll say, how he’ll explain himself. I mean, he has to explain himself, doesn’t he? Obviously he doesn’t think so but then he is who he is. Back when he held power in his […]Read More F.U.D.C
Gym’s back, and that makes me a happy man. I have missed the gym. More so during this lockdown than the last. The last one was a breeze compared to what we’ve had since December; it was light and warm and quiet and, provided you stuck to the rules, the outside was the best place […]Read More Back on the treadmill. Again.
Tributes. Waves of tributes. Flooded by tributes. Smothered in tributes. Caked in them, inches thick. Who doesn’t have something to say about Prince Philip? I can’t say I knew the man but I did feel a brief pulse of sadness when I saw the news, though this pulse was brief indeed, not through a coldness […]Read More Con-tribute.
We’ve just booked a little break away. Obviously it’s been tough to decide exactly where to go: we can’t take the risk of booking abroad and so we’re having to make do with a break in Britain, or, as some unspeakable arsehole (the same one that coined ‘Brexit’, I presume) came up with, a ‘staycation’. […]Read More Tinkerin’ and canterin’.
That Gavin Williamson is a genius. Quite who we have to thank for giving him a position of power is……., oh yes, I remember now. I’m being uncharacteristically flippant, in case you hadn’t guessed; there are remnants in the bottom of my food recycling bin with more charm, vitality and purpose than Gavin Williamson. There […]Read More The Phone-y War.
Yesterday was glorious. Not glorious glorious, I didn’t win the lottery, or crowned King having won a competition to find any idiot for the job who is simply marginally less of an idiot than Prince Charles. No, yesterday was just a nice, gentle, unassuming kind of glorious; the kind that makes you sit back and […]Read More A nice Sunday.