That’s it. I’ve been double jabbed. I’ve had a couple of hard pricks in me and all is well with the world. I reckon I must be pretty much untouchable by now. So untouchable that I can now swagger fearlessly through the streets, hug anybody I choose and attend vast orgies, as and when I […]Read More Two jab your body.
I’ve been thinking about football a lot the in last few days, for obvious reasons. It started when I realised that I didn’t care too much that Italy had beaten Turkey 3-0. I was also crammed with indifference when Wales clawed back a goal to draw with that font of perpetual footballing mundanity, Switzerland. I […]Read More Background balls.
For someone who doesn’t like them all that much I seem to spend more time than I should thinking about The Sussexeses. Like gout, piles or thrush they seem to flare up every so often, causing pain and discomfort and then, when their work is done and they’ve made very sure you haven’t forgotten about […]Read More For name’s sake.
Well, that little heatwave was little indeed. A few days in shorts and a few nights throwing off the duvet, and then yesterday it was back to being a car wash. Wifey caught the meteorological zeitgeist perfectly late Thursday afternoon as she methodically tied cushions to the garden chairs in preparation for an endless summer. […]Read More Land of grass and water.
When it comes to education, particularly since yesterday, there are rather a lot of people I’d rather not be. I’d rather not be a not smart kid, for a start (I know that calling kids thick, dim or stupid is frowned upon these days, though some of the alternative labels used today are fooling no-one, […]Read More Kids catch up.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older, or that as I grow older and less tolerant of some things I grow more tolerant of others, as a way of balance, but whatever the reason is I’ve become mildly addicted to ‘Springwatch’ on the BBC. It’s not my first time watching this kind of […]Read More An ode to Spring.
I get asked all the time. It can actually get quite annoying. People will stop me on the street and ask me what it’s all about, and sometimes I just don’t know what to say. “What about Israel, eh?”, that’s the kind of question I get. “Did you see what the Israelis did the other […]Read More Silly boys in God’s playground.
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.