Madame B - Episode 2

05 December 2003, 15:01

Hello again...

Great news! After only six hours in make-up, and a further twenty minutes chucking up, Mme B has finally decided to put that great big red feather on to her head and squeeze into a shocking gypsy dress that would make Lily Savage blush with embarrassment. She is resplendent in more rings than John's Jewellery Box in West Bromwich. In fact, it is the content of John's Jewellery Box in West Bromwich, after it was broken into last weekend.

After a melodramatic wave of her hands and a cursory glance into her rancid cat's anus, the following premonitions fell from her lips...

Gemini May 22 - Jun 21

Your weekend will look like a fetid cat's anus. Oh! Sorry. Your weekend will be positive, like a battery, long, like a cucumber and dirty, like my ex husband who worked on the fair. Mars makes a surprise appearance in your lovemaking, after your loved one watches a programme about Marianne Faithful. Ensure you have enough towels and toilet rolls so as you don't knacker your new bed clothes. Jupiter makes no effect in your life whatsoever. Steer clear of a friend who has recently been showcased on Crimewatch. Luck lives at number 43, and sadly looks like Olga Korbut.

Virgo Aug 24 - Sep 23

Virgo. Virgo, Virgo Virgo. Ah, Virgo. What a blissful weekend you have in store! Your pyjamas will be toasty, and telly will be good. Pluto provides you with the good fortune to discover a cache of 240 fags tucked behind the setee. Your microwave will also bring forth untold untold taste delights from the the frozen section at Aldi. The Sun not only provides you with the warmth and light you cravem but it will also tell you the winner of the 3.10 at Chepstow. Enjoy your weekend. Ignore all telephone calls. Discover the joys of isolation and vitamin N.

Libra September 22 - October 21

A cold weekend is in store for Libra, so stop in bed for as long as possible. Even better if it's not your own as your own bed id due for an upgrade to double size. Your best intentions to not freak out when the dawning realisation that, yes, you ARE shopping for linen on a Saturday afternoon instead of watching Gillette Soccer Special and eating soup fail miserably. You are advised in the strongest possible terms to never enter Ikea ever again. Libra's usual talent for foreign languages fails, as mischievous Mercury swaps the innocent phrase "Dzien Dobry" (Good day) for "Dozien Diabrzi" (I hope your first born is run over by Maureen from Driving School and Michael Winner urinates on the grave). Steer clear of alcohol, it will only antagonize the situation.

Capricorn Dec 22 - Jan 20

Bawdy text messages are the order of the day for you, dear Capricorn, and ones that are from unknown mobile sources are phenomenally funny to your colleagues. Neptune, the planet of water, insists that you have a bath, if not this weekend, but at least before the turn of the year. Fortune follows you everywhere you go, however he looks like Uncle Albert from Only Fools and Horses. Carry a big stick everywhere you go. Avoid flying your red kite near electricity pylons, especially around Sir James Saville. 

And with that, Mme B disappears into the mist, with only a passing "V" to the assembled celebrities in her wake. 

And that's it.

Madame B - Episode 1

05 December 2003, 08:57

Good morning, believers

I have just been tapped on the shoulder by a dishevelled and frankly hideous looking Mme B, who assures me that six bottles of Scotch a night is perfectly acceptable for a celebrity horoscope provider, such as herself. I asked her if she had ever seen Russell Grant or Mystic Meg walk into Drummond House, still clattered after a night of superpowered binge drinking. She has stormed off with a builders trowel, to hastily apply make up and invent some rubbish based on tea-leaves/the planets/upturned fish-bowl/the words the scabs on her genitals read today.

Stars update will hit your inboxes at around 11.30, but a more lurid set of stars could be available after Mme B has a couple of tots at "The Ritz" with the rest of the team here.

Keep the faith.

Madame B - Introduction

Whatever happened to Madame B?

Madame B was devised during the busy days on the [deleted for legal reasons] project, when there were literally days to kill. Inspired / ripped off from Mystic Meg’s horoscope section in The Sun, Madame B was a slightly more ‘council’, definitely alcoholic, and had a twist of travelling fairground added for good measure.

She senses peoples’ fortunes in the more unlikely aspects of the cosmos, from the alignments of subways on Jupiter, to reading the leftover light bulbs in Dale Winton’s wardrobe. 

Her readings, always surreal, yet occasionally accurate, made compelling viewing for the gathered throng at about coffee time every morning. Unfortunately, Mme B disappeared from view in obscure circumstances, which may or may not have involved a golf ball, some elastic bands, and me moving to a more demanding job.

Now, it is time to connect hands, select ‘drive’ and channel the energies to find...Madame B. 

Tales From My Youth 4

Hello again,

A few words tonight for Mailbox, the legendary teletext service that following transition to the internet seems to have ground to stop.

Paramount Text (P-Text)'s Mailbox was the vision of the Paramount Channel's in-house teletext production staff for a 'letters page' for the channels innovative teletext service. This was more interactive than a classical letters page, as it took messages from letters, faxes, answer-phone messages and the new medium of emails...and tried to print and reply to as many as possible. Submissions ranged from questions on programme scheduling to guitar chords, and detailed technical data about satellite receivers to surreal mental pictures.

(I was lucky to have a message printed on Mailbox in 1996.)

Mailbox exploded in popularity, with occasionally over one hundred pages of comments per night. There were some tongue in cheek campaigns, like to propel Chage and Aska's 'Castles In The Air' into the charts. Regular contributors were revered, and some even had their own sections - Odo's Sci Fi news, for example. "Ed", "24 Hours" and "48 Hours" were the teletext forerunners to the blog. P-Text even 'repeated' Park Lane, the Oracle teletext soap opera. It is possible that the first email to a teletext service in the UK was published by P-Text. The non channel related service was mirrored online from 1998 onwards (I think). 

As Paramount Comedy Channel (as it became) had less requirement to provide a teletext service, Mailbox ceased on broadcast but continued online (www.newmailbox.co.uk), when updates would be available either online or delivered in mail format.

I checked back in recently, and it hasn't been updated since last July.

Astonishing Fact #001

Hello

Through logging in tonight, I had a quick look at the blogs of note and spotted the intriguing New York Donut Report. I am astonished to learn that Birmingham has EXACTLY THE SAME NUMBER OF KRISPY KREME DONUT STORES THAN NEW YORK.

Not just New York City, but the whole state.

This is news of phenomenal importance.

Krispy Kreme doughnuts cost more than gold, oh but for a sweet hit of Americana with coffee...

The Newspaper Challenge

The other night, whilst doing some early morning research on something surely vital, I remembered an idea I had a while ago - does a newspaper's website meta tags accurately describe their readership? Sorry if you have fallen asleep at the back, but meta tags are the things a website thinks that are most likely to draw in searches. E.g, if i had a website about eggs, my meta tags would include words like, eggs, egg, chicken, or yolk. Not dogs, Elvis and India. Hope you get the idea.

Let's start with The Sun.

"The Sun, newspaper, Dear Deidre, Mystic Meg, page 3, page3, page 3 girls, UK, Britain, England, London, tabloid, online, internet, breaking, news, sport, showbiz, exclusives, scandal, gossip, competitions, prizes, promotions, celebrities, Bizarre, football, weather, big brother, celeb, celebrity, star, Barclaycard Premier League, Carling FA Cup, Dreamteam FC, F1 dream team, sun says, opinion, talkback, Ken Gibson, Premier, cartoons, crossword, Sun Fun, Jane Moore, John Sadler, Lorraine Kelly, chat, babes, superbabes, jukebox, investigations, 24 hour, reports, stars, horoscopes, ringtones, mobile, wwe, wrestling, jon gaunt, Gizmo, technology, keeley, sophie, ruth, gadgets, free games, chart, TV, listings, gardening, film, trailers, diets, fitness, music, fashion, motors, videos, royals, royal family, contact us, subscription, back issues, old, stories, news desk, sports, desk, team, bizarre, email, weekly, daily, sign up"

If I remember, the more important search terms are at the top. This is why three of the top seven have connections to liberated breasts. Interestingly, they reference "Carling FA Cup" - a competition that has never been sponsored by Carling. Pleasingly, Jon Gaunt isn't anywhere near the top and doesn't even get capital letters - unlike Jane Moore, John Sadler or Lorraine Kelly. However columnists like Jeremy Clarkson, Ally Ross (tv) or Kelvin McKenzie (former editor of The Sun) aren't there. Strangely, one of the less key search terms is 'desk'.

The next plan was to visit the Daily Express, but it doesn't have keywords.

Onto the last broadsheet national, the Daily Telegraph:

"online newspaper uk daily news sport weather arts money experts stock market personal finance oeics job vacancies car test drives breakdown services motor insurance motoring News Online honest john book late holiday deals cruise city break travel guides british expats brits abroad expatriate offers Sport NEWS Uk horse racing shopping ONLINE gift promotions business article education technology countryside Weather telegraph crossword society obituaries horoscopes Job Vacancies Oeics Money Experts Personal Finance Stock Market Business UK Daily SPORT Horse Racing Motoring Breakdown Services Car Test Drives Honest John Motor Insurance Late Holiday Deals Offers Book City Break Cruise Travel Guides Expats British Expatriate Brits Abroad Telegraph Newspaper Promotions Shopping Gift Education Countryside Article Arts Technology Crossword Society Horoscopes Obituaries MONEY EXPERTS OEICS PERSONAL FINANCE STOCK MARKET JOB VACANCIES DAILY BUSINESS TECHNOLOGY ARTICLE EDUCATION ARTS TELEGRAPH MOTORING CAR TEST DRIVES MOTOR INSURANCE BREAKDOWN SERVICES HONEST JOHN GIFT SHOPPING PROMOTIONS NEWSPAPER OBITUARIES HOROSCOPES BOOK CITY BREAK CRUISE OFFERS HOLIDAY WEATHER TRAVEL GUIDES LATE DEALS BRITS ABROAD BRITISH EXPATRIATE EXPATS HORSE RACING COUNTRYSIDE CROSSWORD SOCIETY"

Quite a chunky set for terms there. Interestingly, the 13th is OIECS, which is a quite obscure financial acronym, meaning Open-Ended Investment Companies. 'Honest John' gets a mention, as well as some nuggets about Expatriates. Curiously, the keywords shout 'daily SPORT' - which may mean this turns up in a search for the newspaper of that name before it does. Then it seems the same search terms are rekeyed for people WHO TYPE LIKE THEY ARE SHOUTING. 

The Times doesn't have Meta Tags, but the copyright on their JavaScript from WebSideStory expired in 2004.

Also without tags is the Daily Mirror.

Lastly tonight, the Daily Mail.

"Sudoku, horoscopes, political analysis, news, Don't Miss, pictures, comment, Daily Mail, Mail on Sunday newspapers, sport, Westminster, opinion"
Quite a concise 12 terms, with Sudoku seeming to be the top draw, and in second place horoscopes, and after those two, the trivial "political analysis"!
More on this some other time.

Fishing For Cats

Evening,

As things like washing up or attempting a social life begin to decrease in importance, new hobbies/exercises in time-wasting spring up in their place. This is where fishing for cats comes in.

Increasing numbers of local cats visit this house when the windows are open to have a nose around. Then they see me, and then run away. I decided to try to lure in a cat to play with for a while, just to see if I could.  A couple of nights this week, I laid some tuna out in a bowl, which caused severe interest, but no actual sightings. Cats prefer fish to sweet-corn, in a shock development.

After reading up on Felis catus, and learning about how they like to stalk things, I devised a very simple 'bird on a string' toy/lure which was literally string and some newspaper. This didn't work yesterday.

Tonight, I saw a cat peeking out from behind the sofa, so I casually found out the stringy toy and let the cat fall for it. It ripped it off the string and ran away, destroying the 'bird' with vigor. I threw the string in frustration, but the cat thought that the 'bird' was still alive and went for it again. After 10 minutes of Machiavellian-orchestrated playing, I closed the windows and bagged my first cat.

Felis catus thinks 'Bugger, I've been comprehensively out thought. How to get out?' 

Felis catus resigned to being out-thought, but still protecting it's hard earned snake/lure/string, becomes Felis domesticus.

Needless to say, I let it go shortly afterwards, after giving it some milk and some friendly tickles.

Welcome To Birmingham, 4

Yet more pictures!

Here's John Bull protesting about the EU Treaty, outside the Labour Party Conference in Birmingham, earlier this year. As you can see by the sheer level of concern on his face, this is a crisis that seriously vexes the 296-year-old fictional British everyman.

More from killing an afternoon in London. I did some sightseeing of a purely anorak style, with a trip to two places in London that I tracked down by post-code alone (gasp!) E3 2NN, and W12 7RJ.  Starting with W12, here is the BBC Television Centre.

Followed by a trip to Bow, and 2 Lock Keepers Cottages, now a private residence. This seems to have been rebuilt after a supposedly devastating fire ( I don't remember the loft windows), but some very visible clues remain.

Finally, some guerilla signposting, in Marble Arch.

Welcome To ...London?

Afternoon,

Some poor quality shots from the ever unreliable K750, taken in That London, in December 2005.

As ever, descriptions below the images.

A building I will always know as the "G.P.O Tower", or "Post Office Tower", but officially now, the BT Tower. Icon of sixties London, once destroyed in 1972 in an unprovoked attack by Twinkle, a giant kitten.

Modern London, merges with Classical London. The Gherkin (Swiss Re Building), the NatWest Tower, and St. Pauls all in shot.

Here I am trying to recreate my own John Peel "Radio One, 1967"  moment, outside All Souls' Church. This is literally a stones throw away from BBC Broadcasting House....

...which is here. Note that the signs have gone, if you check back to my Something Pretentious 1 post earlier on.

I am in the middle of Tower Bridge, spanning the crack. And trying to not get stabbed.

Welcome To Birmingham, 3

It is a genuinely glorious Sunday afternoon in the great city, of Birmingham, Ingerland. So I choose to enjoy it by doing some blog updates in a room that according to my £1.99 Tesco thermometer touched 50°C at One O'Clock.

After this, I will be exposing my backside to some cycle-based abuse at the hands of the Spinning class instructor at the gym, then cheering on Poland to almost certain defeat at the hands of Germany in Euro 2008.

I seem to be averse to sunshine.

Anyhow, here are some more interesting examples of contemporary urban photography, compiled and composed by me (descriptions below pictures):

According to the camera, I took this at seven in the morning (!). This is what remained of the Victorian frontage to the old Central Television building, before the unstoppable JCB of progress pulled it down.

Central Television lasted as a separate entity for about 15 years, however it has more of a lasting reputation than other channels that have been around for a similar time (hello, Channel 5!). After the predatory purchase of Central by Carlton (who in turn were merged into oblivion by "ITV Plc.", Ha!) a process of de-Centralization took place, with these studios being sold off and the contents auctioned off for pennies. After the auction, many things were left unsold - there are reports of a slew of awards for Central being discovered in a big skip. One of the very last remnants of Central is this sign, which one day may be Tippex-ed back into existence! 

Next door to the studios is (the previously owned by ATV/Central) Alpha Tower, a dynamic and alternative approach to seventies architecture. You may see that every one of the windows has its own air vent. And isn't rectangular. And the whole building isn't a shape that is taught in primary school. Impressive, if you stand next to it and look up. Gulp.

Alternative view of Alpha Tower (side).

View of Alpha Tower from the 'other side'.

Continuing through Broad Street, to the immediate right of Central Studios, what appears at first to be an incredibly grand location for a cashpoint. Until you read the very subtle stone on the building (above), which reads:

The first municipal savings bank in Great Britain

This stone was laid on October 22nd 1932 by

The Rt. Hon. Neville Chamberlain M.P.

Chancellor of the Exchequer

First chairman of the bank by whom the idea was originally concievd and who was principally responsible for its location.

John. B. Burman Lord Mayor    John. P. Hilton. General Manager

How about that for a slice of Second World War starter nostalgic fried gold?

Moving down a bit, my contribution to the Birmingham Tourist Board photography cache. To the left, Brindleyplace and its clock tower, to the right the 'World Famous in Birmingham' International Convention Centre, at the back the National Indoor Arena [home of the original batch of Gladiators], nicely bisected by post industrial waterway. Nice. I even managed to include the mandatory 'obscured passer by'.

Currently, a symbolic electricity pylon has been erected outside the Council House. Odd. Somewhere, a village in Shropshire is without electricity for the sake of symbolism. To the right, the Council House, to the rear, the refurbished Town Hall, far distance, Alpha Tower.

I was unaware of this until I had enforced waits for trains (thanks, London Midland), but Birmingham has the largest sky in Europe. This is sunset, on Tuesday from the top of Snow Hill station [or more correctly, Livery Street Car Park].

Here is the same view, reflected in the windows of a building [illegally occupying the site of the once great Snow Hill station].

And finally, a picture I have entitled "Triumph of Nature over Man".

A quick word on the new release of Apple's Safari (3.1.1.525.17) - faster than Lewis Hamilton's relocation to Switzerland following earning some tremendous wedge (good work fella).

Enjoy the rest of the weekend!

Something A Little Pretentious 2

Hello,

here is a delightful picture of me allowing a little pretentiousness into my life, a few years ago. Fear not! I was pretending to be French.

Heroes (Ed. 2)

Welcome back to the second in a sporadic series, giving brief outlines on the select few; the ones I call my heroes.

Today, we celebrate another one of the departed - Terence Alan Milligan. Also known as Spike to the millions that he touched.

I can just about claim that I grew up with his influence, my earliest Spike memory is the opening to one of his programmes and him sawing half of the "2" logo for BBC2. The only book I have ever saw my Dad read (and probably will ever see read) was a 1972 edition of The Goon Show Scripts, which I then read. The lunacy and sheer level of imagination required to make the adventures come alive seemed to be beyond that of most adults - thought like this should be left to the children.

As I got into my teenage years, I got a copy of 'Rommel: Gunner Who?' and read it from cover to cover, one hot summer's day. I wept with tears of laugher as the nearly deadly miscalculation that nearly killed Harry Secombe ended up uniting two of the Goon triumvate. 

Shortly after was the Comedy Awards ceremony.

As Spike chugged past seventy, appearances on television decreased in direct inverse proportion to the volume of praise he was afforded by a new group of surreal comedians who I related to, like Eddie Izzard, and mostly Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer.

In 1998, I had the opportunity to meet Spike and Norma Farnes at a book signing at Waterstones in New Street, Birmingham (co-incidentally, next door to the head office of the Multimedia Toastie Company). He was late for the signing, but my astonishment, he ran up the steps past me in the queue. Amazing sprightliness for a man of advanced age (in my humble opinion). I asked him very nicely to sign my book, and I produced the 1972 scripts, which he kindly signed and dedicated to my Dad. To which he said, "Not this! This is years old!" He then made a fuss of Eileen's Elmo rucksack, giving it a voice.

Truly, the very best reason not to turn up to an Electonics lecture.

Whenever anyone asks me what my life's ambition is, I tell them I have already achieved it - to meet Spike.

Under four years later, he had been taken from us - when I found out he had died, it was within a stone's throw of Waterstone's, and I was with Eileen at the time.

Without putting myself in the same league as him, I can appreciate the wild mood-swings, addictive personality, devotion to the surreal, fascination with children's thought and need to make people laugh.

I am still astonished by his capacity to bring struggle upon himself, with tales of huge alcoholic binges, self admission to 'mental institutions', the constant womanising and workload that he chose to undertake.

All this, and to remain funny at the same time.

A true hero.

Welcome To Birmingham, 2

Hello again.

After some vitriolic picture-based ranting about Birmingham, here are some more friendly images you might like, all taken by me.

Commentary above the pictures. 

Here we have some of the remaining building that was part of the original Snow Hill Station, which was suposedly entirely demolished in 1977. (Tragic shame - visit this slideshow on flickr for more depressing details.)

This is the view from the top of the car park, looking down Edmund Street. Quite atmospheric!

Taken from the Moor Street car park, a shot of the iconic Selfridges part of the Bull Ring. Everyone who visits Birmingham takes a picture. Here it is from another angle, hopefully showing the flow of the curves in a new way.

More from a lazy trip back to my house, the new Snowhill (one word!) office building having the finishing touches being added to the glass. View from the station courtyard.

This is the back of the library, where there is an unexpected outbreak of greenery which jars against the jutting concrete of Central Library. Flowers even make it into the shot. Just. Note the blue sign, a blaze of poetry. Also, computer generated clouds due to poor white-balance.

Welcome To Birmingham, 1

I have some lovely pictures of Birmingham, I really do.

I also have some ghastly examples of this fine city. Starting with these...

Snapped on the way in to work recently, we see the work of a Thursday night pavement Picasso. As you can also see, the work is being inspected by representatives of the Pigeon Arts Trust to see if it can be saved or permanently displayed in the Tate Modern. 

I am impressed with the attention to detail of deliberately adding cigarette ends to the regurgitated lager and curry, as if to say "there was a third factor involved in this vomit...you need to appreciate the depth and other textures involved".

A triumph all round, for the artists, and the cleaners at Flares who let this stay on their steps overnight. 

Here is the sign which as of today was still on the Livery Street (car park) exit of Snow Hill station. I have deliberately left on the phone number, I dare you to phone up and ask what exactly a "Chef Highway Engineer" does. Out of shot is the detail saying "Completion January 2008".

Thanks to W.W Design for this clanger. I thought that this would be a one off, or it would be changed as soon as someone commented. But no, this has been re-used throughout the renovations of 'Paradise Place', a.k.a. that bit with the shops in under the library.

"Would like to apologies"? What? I admit that occasionally might spell a word incorrectly, but THIS IS A SIGN IN A PUBLIC PLACE. Who proofreads this? I can imagine the conversation, "Shall we check it for spelling Lance?" "Nah, they'll have done that upstairs." Whilst upstairs are thinking "Did we spell check that? Ah, bugger it. It'll be spotted."

Some one is being paid to produce this crap.

Grr.

Anyhow, many thanks to Sam Sparro for keeping me entertained whilst I write today, check out "Black and Gold". 

Something A Little Pretentious

Evening,

I have been taking time from running on the spot and eating apocolyptically minging out of date mackrel (more on that later) to look through some old photos. Here's one of me trying to look casual, refined and intelligent, whilst having a rucksack and what appears to be a XXXL rain jacket on. Outside Broadcasting House, in London. In (possibly) April 1998. Love that hair.

Minging Mackerel update: I thought I'd have a light dinner of smoked mackerel and some leafy salad. It seems that both were off. But not just off, but rank. Full on "Poo!" on opening rank.

They are now both in the bin, which combined with the other food I chucked out at the start of the diet is causing a spectacular pong.

That word again, "Poo".

CrapWatch

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Associated Press, please let it be known that a rear bowel movement droppage occurred just a few moments ago. All is well. There will be no futher statement.

Thank you

Weight Loss Diary

Afternoon,

For those of you that aren't aware, last year I did some beneficial weight loss for me and the lovely NSPCC. I lost 22 pounds of weight, and the NSPCC gained £603 in donations.

Little did I think I would need to do it again so soon. 

So, on May 1st I took a ceremonial hangover allied to an overstuffing of pizza onto the scales at work, where I weighed in at an alarming 93.1k.

Off I go again on a meat-and-alcohol-and-white bread free diet for a month. This time though I have the gym as a further tool/incentive.

The gym is great. It has already exposed my poor fitness and chronic deterioration in the swimming stakes, and advertised my puffing fat redness to many attractive ladies.

Fantastic.

On the plus side, I already feel lighter. On the negative side, I haven't had a 'sit down toilet' since before my weigh in. Stay tuned for "Crapwatch".

Living On My Own Again, Part 3

Further to the madness of the last post, some sense in the form of a link...

http://www.frieze.com/issue/article/obscure_objects_of_desire

Hmm.

Living On My Own Again, Part 2

As I was saying, living on my own has done something to my brain.

For food, I have been actively seeking out mushrooms. I have been unable to resist pastry based snack foods. Each meal seems to contain cheese. Where has the variety gone?

Each night, if a documentary comes on the tv, that's it for the night. Gone. Recently, I watched a three part documentary about tailoring. Tailoring! A useful craft, yet to me, previously as about as exciting as clouds.

I have also seemed to have developed some odd, and all consuming passions.

Like an as-yet unnamed female local news presenter.

Everywhere I go, she is in the back of my mind. I used to tune into the news to see if she was there. Now, I record the news.

Is this wrong?

It has also led me to the underworld of websites for men who have unsubstantiated crushes on news presenters. Firstly, I have form in this region. Way back when the internet was just a baby, oooh, years ago, I was a regular reader (lurker) of alt.fan.philippa.forrester - and for those of you with a FatBoy Slim album, check out his producer, then check out the name of the first poster on that group. Yes, the one and the same, megastar producer is the AFPF Godfather.

But I digress.

Things have moved on from simple "set your video for..." and "did you see..." sections, there seems to be hundreds of 'cappers' from around the country who tune in to view my local news just for this lady.

For anyone that knows me (and that includes you, dear reader!) you will understand that I was surprised shocked and setback by this news.

Then saw my own hands start to download them. How? I seemed to be losing control of my mouse and mind.

When will this end?

I think I may start a silent campaign to remove Sir Trevor from the top rank of Drinking Newsreaders and replace him with her.

Anyhow, I'm off to bed, to contemplate my own timewasting stupidity. And possibly send an involuntary mail to the local tv asking for her signed photo.

Is it just me?

Living on my own again, part 1

Evening,

Living on your own after a long time does something odd to your brain. I will go on...however need to get into position with large bottle of splintergut cider and watch the football. Back later, if I can still type.