I am Syrian, and don't call me Shirley

Ere we start living in paradise

Those of you foolish enough to have been nominated as my “friends” on facebook will have noted that I am in danger of being subsumed by the ridiculous posturings of the Saxe Coburg Gotha clan and their periodic celebration of “finding a girl thick enough to marry one of the throwback offspring”. I would hate to be responsible for fuelling the hype surrounding this obscene display of egregious frippery and luring some poor soul into thinking that it might be of interest, or there being some inherent value in following the proceedings.

Please, therefore, consider yourselves licenced to exclaim “Enough, Scurra! No more of this feudal fucktardery! Tell us tales of the Higgs Boson or the exploits of Michael Gove. Engage us with treatises on the wisdom of the saints, sages and poets.”

I am only here to serve.

A welcome return.

From last night’s Lewis:

Hathaway to Lewis: “You had no idea the killer would strike again”

Which is quite true, unless he had seen any of the other previous 214 episodes of Morse and Lewis.