Sorry

I haven't been bothered lately.

I think I've probably said everything that I could possibly say.

Or otherwise I'm too late to make comment.

For example, last week I'd thought out a piece about how Chelsea, being evil, would win the quadruple of League Cup, FA Cup, European Cup and Premiership, and how this would be a manifestation of the arrival of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, which include other obscenities such as the survival of Leeds Utd.

However, I failed, and here we several days later and the tempest failed to materialise, thank Allah.
So why don't I feel jubilant?

Is it all right to join a punk rock group at 49?

Disaffected, North London

Bloc Party VIP Guy

To the balding middle-aged man on the tube tonight, with the heat rash on his receding pate, wearing his Bloc Party VIP back stage pass on his shirt so that everyone on the train could see that he had indeed been BACKSTAGE at the Bloc Party gig:
It's not cool to wear your backstage pass anywhere else than backstage, otherwise you look like a desperate attention-seeking nobody who needs the world to know that you have just been backstage at a Bloc Party gig.
(PS: wear your glasses: nobody wants to see your eyes rolling around in your head like some kind of one armed bandit)

Incidently, having spent the evening with a Colombian friend who observed that, in London "where I live, the people, they care more about their dogs and their alcohol than their children, or anything!" (to which I replied "welcome to England!").

Subsequently, the ride on the tube home was seen through fresh eyes. The post-pub Vomit Comet was like a contemporary Hogarth etching, crawling with inebriates, geezer birds, sots and after-work overimbibers to confirm that we are a nation in thrawl to the brewers.

Me? Just three glasses of Rioja, thankyou very much.

Missing Bees Explained

It seems that there is an apparent disappearance of Bees world-wide, with the environmental lobby predictably blaming mobile phone technology.

If only they knew!

I know where they are. THEY'RE REGROUPING!

Oh yes, they'll be back EN MASSE, with their psycho friends the hornets and their stupid skinhead cousins the wasps.

And what are we doing about it? Softened by luxury, we're too busy getting brain-washed by our spoon-fed consumer culture to care.

Just you wait.

You'll get more honey, mummy.

Message ends.

Shed: Stop Press

OK everybody listen up!

The guys at Readers Sheds have announced National Shed Week! (Featuring a Shed of the Year Competition!!!)

The first week in July.

Also a useful link to the Shed Working website.

Mr Bean

I think it would be funnier if he was called "Mr Beans".

Too Much to Do, Too Little Time....

OK, a few things quickly before I set off for a evening out in London's famous West End.

Dirty Dentist: Only "cleaning his teeth" or URINATING IN THE SINK? You decide! HERE

Big Brother With a Microphone: Apparently, our surveilance operatives have been given PA systems to address the transgressors: HERE.
It sounds OK, but will it stop at litter louts? Who decides what anti-social is?
Are we going to hear "Oi! You! Yes YOU FATTY! What makes you think you can get away with wearing lycra?"

Keith Richards: Yes I'm a little late to this one, but apparently his dad got right up his nose. (It's actually a pretty good reason to avoid having kids).