Tonight on the wonderful “Have I Got News For You”, with the new James Bond, Boris Johnson, there was much speculation about whether the British royal family were responsible for the death of Dianna. Immediately following the programme, there was a trailer for “Newsnight” in which Dermot Murnaghan said “Tonight we bring you the latest news in the search for the
Today while working I chose to have Classic FM TV on in the background to help the cerebral processes. They have some jolly tunes, and occasionally some nice videos to accompany them, but tend towards a plethora of pert choirboys which does not really appeal to me, but, as I say, they have some nice tunes. Except at this time of year. Just when I was looking forward to a couple of hours of pleasant music from Bach, Beethoven and Berlioz, they introduce Bing. Yes, Bing Bollocky Crosby singing about dreaming of a white bollocky christmas. There is just no escape from it. Thank heavens none of you have the poor taste to extol the virtues of this most dire of festivals. There was one blog where the author was asking about the three christmas songs that you hate. Three? Bollocky three? I hate the whole bollocky lot. And don’t send your spotty adolescent sons and daughters round to my house singing about bollocky herald angels, unless you want them returned to you in a box of mince tarts.
Which brings me back to my old friend Nasser Bollocky Hussain. He uses the phrase “he plays his cricket”, for example “he plays his cricket in