No covert criticism of you Dave, although I understand your suspicion as I usually do have an agenda! Anyone who can make me think “Hmm, maybe I should give Aladdin Sane another listen” has done a good job in my book.

Thanks for digging that out, FF. I’ve still never dared publish that anywhere else – not sure why, it’s perfectly innocent really, but at the same time I’m not sure i’d want my wife to read it.

Shout out to […]

Neither of which is the original or best https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iNLXxDMxe18

Well I never fell for it. I mean, as if a women would ever come in here

Three days is about par for returning from the dead, if the word of the Lord is anything to go by.

‘Sup. I’m the handsome one. My close friends call me Chi for short

Give it a quick wipe with an oily cloth, then use one of your three wishes to finish the job.

Chicken shortage at Nando’s: No wing meat, no menu.

This is essentially the plot of Nick Hornby’s Juliet, Naked. A reclusive singer suddenly puts out the acoustic demos of his masterpiece album from 20 years earlier, and the fan forums go ballistic for it. Then […]

“Genuinely saddened’ kind of hints that at other times, when one is simply ‘saddened’, the feeling is not genuine. ‘Gutted’ is good because it has that visceral quality, while meaning nothing very much. You can be […]

The key to winning that all-important ‘first mourner’ status is to keep a file of your pre-reactions to the death of people who may die in the next few years, and cut and paste as appropriate. Not a detailed […]

Everyone Dies Twice On The Afterword

We’ve got Fulking near us. The hill above it is Fulking Hill.

It’s hard to watch England at the moment. They’re without Stokes, Broad, Archer, Woakes and Pope for various reasons but even then it looks like the ones who have got roped into test cricket would rather be […]

Watched:
Two absolutely cracking films, Portrait of a Lady on Fire and Promising Young Woman. Neither is new so I’ll spare you the background, but both are extraordinary. Portrait… is beautiful and perfectly […]

Seasick Stevens and Surfan Steve

“He’s my brother, he’s my brother don’t you know” they effortlessly harmonise, while the local slugs roll their eyes at the casual elitism of those already on the property ladder.

Good luck. A never-ending supply of dry socks, that’s the key.

Don’t let anyone know what you do for a living or your tent will become a triage centre in M*A*S*H. The procedure is:

Casualties in band t-shirts […]

But how else can I demonstrate my burining passion for equality and justice for all (except, obviously, Tories, Brexit voters, anyone with more money than me, BMW drivers and Vulpes Vulpes), without ever leaving the sofa?