What am I meant to do with these?
‘Excuse me, what am I meant to do with these?’

‘Excuse me, what am I meant to do with these?’
‘We meet once a month and choose a book to ban.’
‘Why do you feel the need for the approval of others?’
‘All political careers end in failure, but this is getting out of hand.’
‘Who tipped you off about 4 July?’
‘May I bet on your vote?’
‘I didn’t realise it was dress down Friday.’
‘I used to be a shy Tory – now I’m a really embarrassed one.’
‘He’s multitasking.’
Steve Coogan confessed in a recent interview on BBC1’s The One Show that he is morphing into his alter ego Alan Partridge. ‘There’s almost a complete overlap in the Venn diagram,’ he admitted, ‘by this time next year I will have completely become Alan.’ Maybe he was joking, but I suspect he kind of meant it. At a recent drinks party, I discovered to my horror that I’d come dressed exactly like every other midlife man in the room The comedian has spent years trying to distance himself from the boss of Pear Tree Productions, firstly by creating ‘other less successful characters’, his words, not mine, and then by retreating
Michael Vaughan has been through hell, twice. The first time was well publicised. On thin grounds, the former England cricket captain was accused of racism and was then subjected to a brutal investigation by cricket’s overlords. Defending himself valiantly, he was exonerated. The second circle of awfulness, though, was just as bad – he became seriously ill. Last week, he talked to the Telegraph about the horrific symptoms that suddenly reared up, and of his search for a cure. I have a little device that sits on my chest and vibrates against the vagus nerve The crisis came when, at the Boxing Day Test in Melbourne, he was so weak,
Gawping at the famous sights of the Cotswolds has been a popular pastime for centuries. So too is writing about the huge numbers of people gawping at the famous sights of the Cotswolds. The Times, Telegraph, Express and the BBC have all covered the explosion of mass-tourism since the pandemic, which is driven mainly by social media algorithms bombarding the globe with irresistible Cotswolds images. You can now tour the Cotswolds to gawp at the sight of thousands of other people gawping, or buy a paper and gawp at a professional gawper gawping at gawpers. Meanwhile, in its ‘rewilding’ and ‘low carbon’ drive, the NT is refusing to dredge the
The day after the Serbia vs England match, while sunbathing on my balcony, I espied an interesting vignette taking place on the lawns beneath my apartment block. A little boy was playing football with a man I took to be his father, who looked like a hipster of the kind you can see by the score in Brighton and Hove; goatee, vintage t-shirt, Converse sneakers and a facial expression strongly implying that he’d been to places which made Planet Earth look like a one-horse town. You’ve got to really love something naturally, in your bones, to hate a song about a robin The little lad was having the time of
Over five decades, I have been lucky enough to witness some of the great rock concerts of our time. Bob Dylan at Blackbushe in the late 1970s, The Everly Brothers Reunion Concert at the Albert Hall in the early 1980s, The Rolling Stones at New York’s Shea Stadium in the 1990s and Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in Paris a few years after that. If that sounds overheated and inappropriately ecstatic I refuse to apologise There are many others but those are the first to light up my memory bank. Now add Taylor Swift’s Eras concerts at Wembley stadium to that list. Three nights last weekend and another
Everyone knows that Italy is a boot. Many people know that the boot has a heel – the rocky, sunburnt region of Puglia. Perhaps a few know that the heel has a spur – the Gargano Peninsula. Yet virtually no one knows that the Gargano hides a magical woodland – the Foresta Umbra – a national park and treasure. And one of a dozen or more Italian parklands that are practically unvisited by foreign tourists. Puglia is studded with eerie and beautiful castles, allegedly possessed of occult properties My intention is to do a walking tour of the Gargano, kindly organised by a British travel company, who will ferry my
It is no longer normal to see Hollywood men looking normal anymore. From the empty cheeks of Ozempic face to the puffed-out Brotox foreheads to the eerily-uniform veneers of Turkey teeth, no one seems to be aging, but no one seems to also be quite so attractive. Even Ryan Gosling, once my favourite heart-throb, has overdone the filler, and now looks like he is smuggling a pair of snooker-balls in his cheeks. Boys and young men are being sold a lie The same is true for male bodies; masculinity means muscularity. In our superhero-saturated age, audiences are inundated with images of male physical perfection: torsos like upside down triangles, shoulders
You really have to force yourself to love flying. Sitting on the tarmac for an hour and a half with an air conditioning unit that won’t turn off and two babies locked in a battle of who can scream the loudest is not in my ‘Top 10 Days Well Spent For Zak’. But the plane is an experience. Though commercial air travel has been a possibility since 1914 – some argue earlier in the case of airships – we still go through that shudder of glee (or fright) when the plane does the impossible and leaves the ground. For all of the pitfalls of flying, the miracle of air travel
Lambourn trainer Jonny Portman is a splendid ambassador for horse racing: he is talented, charming and witty. Television presenters and newspaper journalists love interviewing him because his dry sense of humour invariably comes to the fore. Addressing some challenging times for his stable in 2022, he told a racing journalist, ‘I’ve had four owners die this year and I know two more are planning on it. So I do worry.’ Portman invariably gets the best out of his horses – he currently has 45 in training – and, if he had a couple of big-spending owners, he would undoubtedly be competing for the sport’s top prizes more often. Two Tempting