Have you noticed that whenever there is the slightest variation in weather that somebody feels obliged to slip in a comment about it being due to 'global warming'. It's not just the BBC it seems to be everywhere, I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't actually have anything to do with global warming but it's become media speak equivalent of the stroppy teenager saying, "dunno." Isn't the weather supposed to be variable until about 3pm on July 16th when it suddenly becomes 'warmer than average for this time of year' for about twenty minutes and the hose pipe bans commence.
Anyway to alleviate the depression caused by not having much work on at the moment I've been thinking about life's simple pleasures and there is one thing on a Sunday morning (other mornings of the week are available) which makes me smile, the football results. Not the results themselves but the timeless way in which they appear in the newspapers, you know the two teams, the scores, scorers, attendances but most importantly the half-time scores in brackets. It's the footballing equivalent of horse racings '5 ran' (other numbers are available) announcement, completely useless information of interest only to us anoraks. I remember Howard Wilkinson, when manager at Leeds, being asked how he felt after a particularly poor result and he replied, "Well we won the second half." Bizarre but true.
Englebert Humperdinck for the Eurovision song contest, yes I know it's last weeks news but it is good to see the BBC looking after the elderly in times of economic downturn. We've tried youngsters without success so let's go to the other end of the scale (musically and chronologically) who knows if old Englebaby wins it could be Tom Jones and Shirley Bassey in future years. Personally I think he should sing 'Lesbian Seagull' the song he sang on the Bevis and Butthead soundtrack.
Bubbles! No not West Ham but the local dry cleaners. Leaving the office at night I drive through a cloud (or whatever the collective noun is) of bubbles from the dry cleaners, it doesn't matter how crap the day has been the sight of bubbles blowing towards me just perks things up. Why do clowns have the opposite effect?
The internet has this habit of reducing all of us to aliases doesn't it, trying to conceal our real identity behind a collection of silly names but it gets even stranger when that is carried over into real life. I had an e-mail from a young lady in Southampton about a possible photography shoot at the end of the month and she happened to say, "you've worked with my friend Emily." Really? I've never worked with anybody called Emily. Anyway turns out that Emily has a different modelling name and that yes I have worked with her. Anyway this person who contacted me said, "Well I use my real name so hopefully there won't be any confusion."