In the middle of a week of record temperatures, as if unaware of the irony, the business community celebrated the consolidation of its attempts to force the government’s hand to agree to a third filth-generating runway at Heathrow, tipping all species on Earth towards extinction. Everything will die soon, except for cockroaches, and Glastonbury favourite…
The Britpop DJ and breakfast television innovator Chris Evans is a brave man. But perhaps he has a suicidal streak. Or maybe, more nobly, he has discovered a belated desire to do some good in the world, as if to atone for the crimes of his past, before walking willingly to his inevitable doom. Like…
Today I took my four-year-old to London zoo, where I am currently appearing as the pre-recorded voice of a spider, Morgan Freeman having proved unavailable. A handler had a snowy owl on his wrist. The bird appeared comfortable with its “as seen in Harry Potter” tag, and was yet to do anything as drastic as…
As a tiny child, I fell in love with the pageantry and camaraderie of the Eurovision song contest. But my infant innocence was shattered as early as 1969 when, barely 18 months old, I watched Norway’s Kirsti Sparboe crawl criminally into last place with her swinging slice of Carnaby Street pop Oj, Oj, Oj, Så…
Sometime between quitting drinking two months ago and the evening of the general election, I developed the ability to travel through time. Or rather, it appears that time has developed the ability to travel through me. That said, if you remember when 70s donkey-jacket socialism dissolved in the acid of 80s Thatcherism, then the instinctive…