Pull back the blinds - catch the falling snow

A plea.

Can we all agree to just avoid using the phrase, "'Tis the season..." in the titles of all blog posts over the next four weeks or so?

Ta.

What are they gonna say when they run into you again?

I spotted Jarvis Cocker in the St James Centre, Edinburgh, this afternoon.

Chuffed.

The jobbie weecha

Currently doing all they can to make my fucking blood boil are TV's latest "presenting" married couple, so-called Matt and Emma Willis.

Not since Vernon fucking Kay and his wide-mouthed wife, Tess Daly (she's the manny with a fanny), teamed up on BBC's woeful The Two Of Us have I been so irked by such a bumbling pair of TV fuckwits.

Mr and Mrs Willis are now in their second year of presenting ITV2 spin-off show (the compactly-entitled) I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here Now! thus depriving former RI:SE buffoon, Mark Durden Smith, of yet another Australian holiday. Poor Mark is once again banished to the London studio and is forced to watch Matt 'n' Em via live satellite, fuck up everything that he and TPT spent years... ahem... building up. Anyway... what gets on my tits about these two? Well, the truth is it would be quicker to tell you what I like about them. Although I'm not going to do that.

Let's start with Em. Quite simply, she has no eyes. It's really weird. There is no evidence of any style, wit, rapport with the audience or even life, save for the Melanie Sykes technique of constantly tucking her hair behind her fucking ear every two seconds for no fucking reason, and to no benefit, whatsoever.

Matt is a toddler. He's clearly learning to talk; his burbling, giggling, burping, chuntering qualities might be endearing to Em, but surely they do not an accomplished presenter make. Whenever Matt adopts that incessantly gormless grin he does, he is actually trying to tell us that he has done a stinky poo in his nappy and wants us all to tell him what a good wee boy he's been. Actually, I just think he's a complete fucking thicko; a punch drunk bozo, permanently dazed and confused. With a big jobbie in his pants.

Durrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

Theme for great journeys

Thought I'd take advantage of my week-and-a-bit off work and the glorious sunshine this morning and decided to go out for another exhilarating cycle ride.

I'm really enjoying cycling again and have found myself going out in all temperatures. In preparation for this, I bought myself a couple of pairs of long johns out of Asda recently and wore a pair this morning. Wow. Warm as you like.

I usually prefer to cycle on roads, avoiding cycle paths, but this morning I had a change of heart and followed the West Fife Cycle Way which begins in Dunfermline and heads out in the general direction of Kincardine-on-Forth. I'm glad I did. What a cracking journey. It's a lovely, peaceful route and I found myself stopping for one of the two apples I packed at a grand spot commanding a glorious view across the Forth Valley looking towards Linlithgow on the other side. The sun was beating down and it was smashing (yes... smashing) just to sit there accompanied by the sounds of absolutely nothing except the odd rustle of wildlife in the bushes.

Further on down the route, heading towards Devilla Forest, I saw my first ever owl outside of captivity. It was just sitting there in a tree staring at me. So I stopped and stared back. What a wonderful moment. Shortly afterwards, I joined the main road and headed back to Dunfermline via Blairhall, Oakley, and so on. All in all, a rather nice, leisurely 15 mile (or so) round trip.

As perfect as the journey along the cycle route was, there were inevitably some reminders of the real world along the way, most notably these two charming examples of graffiti on a sign near one of the path's junctions....



...there's always one, isn't there?

For your reference, Oakley is an old mining village. Our would-be Banksy seems to suggest that Oakley's entire population, buildings, roads and green spaces are entirely gay. That must surely make Oakley rather unique, not only in Scotland, but the entire universe. Don't know who Mark is, but he seems a right hoot!

Eating up the scum

Just seen an advert on Channel Four for Hugo Boss fragrance, Femme, soundtracked by... wait for it... The Jesus And Mary Chain's Just Like Honey.

Part of me thinks that this is a great song choice. The other part of me feels this is some kind of shocking sell-out by the Reid brothers. After Johnny Rotten/Lydon/Rotten's recent spell of butter championing, perhaps this shouldn't really come as so much of a surprise.

Hello and welcome to "Up The Arse"...

Awwww... what a perfect way to start a Saturday morning.

Last weekend, I ordered the A Bit Of Fry and Laurie box set; all four excellent series spread across five discs for the incredible price of £17.99 from Play.com. And I was just sitting here about half an hour ago thinking, "Jeez, I hope that DVD arrives today," and then... as if by magic... the postie shoved a bulging package through my letterbox. Coincidentally, the box set arrived at exactly the same time (oh hahaha, very funny... boom-fucking-boom!).

I have always loved Fry and Laurie. I think the first time I remember seeing them in anything was on The Young Ones in 1984, but their regular sketches on Saturday/Friday Night Live during the mid-'80s were particularly memorable. My favourites were always the Peter Mostyn interviews which someone has very kindly uploaded onto the mighty YouTube (have a look at At The Theatre with... here and the priceless Taking And Driving Away with... here - the bit where Fry smashes the car window is just fucking hilarious). I also recall tuning into Radio 4's Saturday Night Fry - the episode where "the gang" (usually including Laurie, Emma Thompson, Phyllida Law and Jim Broadbent) end up in Hades particularly sticks in my mind and also a section of one episode where Fry decides to launch his own version of Jim'll Fix It snappily-entitled Stephen Will Do His Level Best To Comply With Your Wishes.

I saw some of the Blackadder 25 year clip show programme on UKGold recently (shit, I can't even get used to calling it UKTV Gold, never mind Go On Laugh Daily!!!) and although I had bought the lot on VHS back in the early 1990s, I had completely forgotten about one scene from Blackadder The Third where Fry (as the violent bully, the Duke of Wellington) boots Laurie (as George the Prince Regent, but impersonating his butler, Blackadder) headlong over a table. Maybe it's one of those ones you have to see, but I swear, I laughed - and cried - so long and hard, I couldn't concentrate on the rest of the programme.

So, I'm looking forward to spending a lazy weekend reacquainting myself with A Bit Of Fry and Laurie all over again; Peter and John from Derwent Enterprises in Utoxeter, The West Indies - A Nation Of Cricketers by Ted Cunterblast, Gelliant Gutfright, Kickin' Ass and all those brilliantly random vox pops ("Has Deborah Munnings arrived yet?").

Remember... everything in the till and no sudden moves. Soupy twist!