By the time you read this I shall probably be 40. I say probably not because I am thinking of ending it all to ensure I remain for ever young in people’s hearts. I say it because the way things are going, the event may go completely unnoticed. It may be so ignored by my nearest and dearest that I may just wake up on 1 January and forget that I am 40.
I tried to plan a party, you see, a big bash, but unfortunately I came up against RSVP evasion. I suppose it doesn’t help to be...
Royal Mail bosses have suggested to postmen that they should not accept a Christmas tip if it’s £30 or more. This is because under the terms of the new Bribery Act that sort of money could conceivably constitute a bribe. I’ve never been a postman, sadly, let alone a postman at Christmas. I don’t know how much a postman expects to make from Christmas tips. But I was seven years a dustman and for us Christmas was always a cash bonanza of mind-boggling proportions. I have lots of happy memories of stepping down from the dustcart on Christmas Eve, already...
Let’s start with the bad news: in honour of China’s economic rise, a Chinese-looking woman was the first Christmas Grinch here in the States. The sourpuss teacher in upper New York ruined the Christmas spirit for a class full of seven- and eight-year-olds when she told them that there is no Santa Claus, and that the presents under their trees did not come from the North Pole and St Nick but were put there by their parents. Boo, you stupid woman, it’s outrageous that a teacher would strip children of their innocence and demystify something as precious as Christmas.
Then...
‘A race through the subways and streets of Paris anuses.’ Startled, I reread the sentence. Surely that couldn’t be right. To pass the time I was flicking through a programme of December’s films at the local art-house cinema. The sentence came in a synopsis of a French crime thriller. Then I realised it was a misprint and should have read, ‘A race through the subways and streets of Paris ensues’. I was about to jab my friend with an elbow and point out the misprint to him, when his surname was called.
Five minutes before, he and I had taken...
Let’s lighten up a bit and have some fun before next week’s ‘Big Bazooka’, the Christmas double issue. The vast majority of us Westerners are a happy bunch despite our countries being racked by debt, rising prices and job losses. Mind you, I know 4,700 people with no sense of humour whatsoever, especially when it comes to protesters’ welfare. I mean those hardy souls who took the time to complain to the BBC about remarks made on the air about shooting the strikers.
What made me laugh out loud was Ed Miliband, posing as Labour leader rather than the human...
As my bike had drawn attention to itself by being nicked, abandoned and found, I decided to renew our old friendship by taking it out for a ride. On Sunday afternoon I slung my leg over it and took it for an hour-long, 15-mile circuit that goes up hill and down dale and ends with an exhilarating three-mile freewheel down to the sea, followed by a final killer hill that normally finishes me off completely.
I am currently not fit. Tendonitis in my heels means I’ve taken no exercise for two months. During this time I’ve been further enervated...
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