tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71900861415918456782009-12-18T19:38:50.351ZNationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-58140138528881724112009-12-12T22:39:00.005Z2009-12-12T23:10:01.176Z

Now it's not quite as cold in Italy as it is in the UK but I'm still sitting here in Rome with a snivelling cold watching Sky News instead of being out enjoying la Dolce Vita on a Saturday night. Admittedly it was snowing the other day in Puglia, but that was up a mountain, and it rained a lot, and it was bloody freezing on Thursday, and I brought the damn thing with me from the UK...etc.But it's

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-61660800608407995052009-12-07T21:25:00.008Z2009-12-08T11:24:52.974Z

So I'm hunkered down on a train on a cold, grey, miserable winter's day, and we're not exactly racing from London to Brighton, it's stopping at places you've never heard of, like Three Bridges, when this guy gets on and sits opposite me. I'm already distracted from reading the Guardian - this being Climate Change Day or something I've bought the paper version for the first time in months - but a

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-39897836939207765762009-10-08T16:32:00.007Z2009-10-08T17:58:38.082Z

Strange times when the brightest thing that happens to you is at a tube station, when you've just had the journey from hell from Baker St in the rush hour because the signals have gone down at Edgeware Road, and the pop legend or, ahem, POP GOLD, Darius comes up and asks to use your phone cos his is broke. He was polite (and no, popbitch, his credit had NOT run out) and called his dad to tell him

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-63946769788713924452009-09-13T08:55:00.019Z2009-09-13T11:13:23.777Z

..Biarritz has beaten Bayonne and the whole town is alive, vibrant with Saturday night revelling as rugby fans celebrate their local Derby victory. Horns toot and blare, the team anthem is playing from every passing car, people are dancing in the street. For reasons completely unknown to me many of the red and white support are dressed as Indian Chiefs - full feather headress and warpaint - their

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-1378723333468082072009-09-03T21:25:00.005Z2009-09-03T22:38:43.666Z

A small cafe in a small town in the Aveyron, a department of South West France barely known to the outside world, including the rest of France. I like the cafe as I can have a coffee, check my email, and watch the world go by. It's clearly mobbed at night, judging by the various artefects, posters and gaming machines dotted about. The blue-smock-and-berets outside smoking this morning don't keep

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-19149844557534529382009-07-22T11:54:00.020Z2009-07-22T17:01:01.149Z

So ....we're standing listening to a Yorkshireman, in Yorkshire, as you do, and he's telling us an amusing story about David Hockney, Britain's greatest living artist (that's my opinion, but may very well be his too). Hockney, Bradford's most famous son, has forsaken some time ago the colouful life he has led in Los Angeles and returned to his native roots. Not to Bradford exactly, but to

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-7480394055297968192009-07-16T00:15:00.007Z2009-07-16T01:00:23.168Z

I like progress, always have, long before the king of change swept into the White House. It's why I left the comfort of institutions like the BBC, ITV - and marriage - quite so frequently. And why I'm happy downsizing, changing, and moving forward. Despite the job losses, I love the way production in media has developed, I love the fast way new technology is racing, why this very blog is being

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-7412328805043984392009-06-22T15:15:00.016Z2009-06-22T16:12:17.564Z

Last year my partner announced to me that I had herpes. "Look" she said, pointing downwards in the general direction of, er, well you know, "You've got Herpes".(For younger readers, Herpes is thing that people used to get before really serious killer diseases came along, stuff that kills you, or at the very least makes bits fall off. For older readers of a gentle disposition, look away now, we're

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-68624860238544407062009-06-09T16:36:00.007Z2009-06-10T11:44:49.936Z

Oh dear, yesterday was a very bad day, wasn't it? Weather wasn't very nice, my loved ones are away, my business partner is laid up with an injury, Delia Smith was lunching beside me and talking too loud. My bloody Oyster card wasn't working either. Shit.Oh yes, and our very own Nazi Stormtroopers were voted for in large numbers in a democratic election. We now have 2 BNP MEPs to be ashamed of.

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-21061667409061692052009-05-14T13:29:00.003Z2009-05-14T13:38:46.506Z

Last year I was sat in Claridges, taking tea, as one does, explaining to a friend of mine who in my view is a complete idiot, the advantages of having all of one's work on memory sticks. I had, only recently, transferred years of paper files to the digital world, literally crates of paperwork now on a something gigabyte stick, two actually, which I occasionally kept about my person. All neatly

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-68607133103337259232009-04-19T17:15:00.022Z2009-04-19T19:08:00.089Z

You bet! Just before I left the metrolops by train to Cornwall, I watched Michelle Mone - the blonde bombshell bra magnate from Apprentice fame - explaining to ITVNews that she was fed up listening to the media drone on and on about how we're all going to hell, with or without a handcart, and how this very explanation of how terrible everything is partly explains how, well, terrible everything

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-52423386892703101282009-04-08T10:01:00.004Z2009-04-08T11:00:44.908Z

The very funny comedian Arnold Brown ("I'm Jewish and I'm Scottish. Two minorities for the price of one" boomboom!) has a new act at the heart of which is an appreciation of sheep. At Brighton's Komedia last week he had us in stitches (well a Welsh friend anyway) as he embarrassed the audience into agreeing that sheep were, um, rather attractive in their own sweet way. As the discourse reaches

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-64870395374054188562009-03-29T22:35:00.008Z2009-03-31T13:48:47.438Z

Without wishing to sound unduly negative, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to be even remotely interested in television, despite exhortations to watch The Wire which apparently will jump start my batteries and get the juices flowing again. OK, but the everyday stuff just bores me, the production values scream "CHEAP", the formats are boringly repetitive, the scheduling's a bloody mess, and

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-54969731419458413152009-03-25T00:06:00.006Z2009-03-25T02:20:23.556Z

Hugh Grant is wibbling at the camera and Rhys Ifans, resplendent in laundrette-grey Y's, is no doubt in a nightclub somewhere desperately hoping that people aren't watching so he can finally move on from Spike. Julia Roberts, playing herself, is doing that simul cry/smile thing.Notting Hill, the movie, is on again. ITV something (3? 4? 87?)I'm watching Hugh, dumped by Julia, walking up Portobello

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-11303256779378390782009-03-10T18:32:00.004Z2009-03-11T01:17:16.233Z

Rather weirdly, I nearly became poet John Hegley's stalker at the Edinburgh Festival one year after telling him at the bar of the Assembly Rooms that I was not only coming to see his show, I had brought a lot of friends with me, as I had seen him perform in London "many times". For the next few days everywhere, but everywhere, I went in Edinburgh I bumped into him. It became so embarrassing I

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-53874418103922058052009-02-24T15:08:00.010Z2009-03-03T13:47:55.837Z

It's not my fault that I have to spend a lot of time in Paris, eating and drinking my way around the city. It's a tough job but..... it's not all joie de vivre.Given the exchange rate fun we're having with the Euro, last week was more pain than joy, prices being calculated UP the way rather than DOWN, so much so that one night I decided to stay in, which I can't ever remember doing before.

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-19356557810724486482009-02-13T11:19:00.002Z2009-02-13T11:35:25.196Z

OK, you want romance? Sing this to your loved one on Valentine's Night.O my Luve's like a red, red roseThat’s newly sprung in June:O my Luve's like the melodieThat’s sweetly play'd in tune.As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,So deep in luve am I:And I will luve thee still, my dear,Till a’ the seas gang dry:Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;I will love thee still, my

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-83043279254772737402009-02-08T15:03:00.007Z2009-02-09T11:41:36.343Z

So, it's prediction day again. After last year's poor show (they only made six right decisions) let's see how well the BAFTA jury does this year in their deliberations. Are they going to get it right?(results added Monday am)BEST FILMIt's gotta be SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE.CorrectOUTSTANDING BRITISH FILMIt should be MAMMA MIA. All that Tom Hanks star-buying money has gotta have some effect!Wrong. Obv

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-71606376318166406862009-02-02T14:46:00.015Z2009-02-03T08:24:32.411Z

Hooray! Hooray! It's a public holiday!Well it may as well be in cold, wintry Brighton where the city's tens of thousands of London commuters are stuck at home, building snowmen on the beach and filling the pubs. "It's like the War!" said a blackboard outside one, with a tiny note below "but without the war bit".Snow doesn't normally reach Brighton, a city more used to the bracing sea air of La

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-61976165353542426912009-02-02T10:26:00.014Z2009-02-02T11:03:35.820Z

We are snowed in. Hurrah!And we are not in the Highlands of Scotland or the Alps or the Rockies. We are in the sunny seaside English coastal resort of Brighton, where families and gay couples come to frolick in the sun.Not today they don't.In the "worst weather since... etc etc" we've had some lovely snow overnight, with more to come, and outside, while there may be no trains, buses, roads open,

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-15407801473218435592009-01-27T02:30:00.004Z2009-01-27T12:54:50.707Z

It is Burns Night, an all too familiar event in hospital A&E wards up and down the country, peaking on November 5th, but on this occasion a celebration from Scotland which recognises Britain's other bard - the one Jeremy Paxman refers to as 'doggerel'. Much haggis, poetry, whisky. and dancing.It's also Chinese New Year, the year of the Ox, and the two have conjoined as twins.Burns is 250 this

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-46483690114765680352009-01-07T01:39:00.007Z2009-01-21T16:55:29.769Z

if you'd like to see this blog as a wordcloud, go hereI like a pea, me.Maybe it's just midwinter, freezing, miserable dog days after festive merriment, which turn thoughts inexorably to the summer pea. Or possibly it was that pulao rice. Always ask for peas pulao, even if it turns out to be a few desultory thawed out bullets mixed in the microwave. Last night I was lucky: egg, beans, and lots of

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-47797218577729352352008-12-29T00:55:00.006Z2008-12-29T02:37:01.798Z

Despite Woolworths closing.Unless of course you're in Gaza, in which case you're subject to a blockade. And bombing by the Israeli air force which killed more than 300 people.Bombing and killing in excess of 300 people. Jesus Fucking Christ. With the most sophisticated weaponry known to the western world. Shit. Merry Fucking Christmas Israel. And no, there was no joke intended there.So Gaza has

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-4527051843978451582008-12-22T17:24:00.003Z2008-12-22T18:49:13.541Z

It's the shortest day of the year and we're going to burn all the clocks.But first we need to try to not burn lunch which was prepped for a 3pm kick off and it is now nearly 4pm. Being fashionably late in the Groucho Club is all well and good but when you've got perfect roasties in goose fat turning before your very eyes into blocks of rock then it is unacceptable. How do you like your lamb? Grey

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7190086141591845678.post-66794578002100511272008-12-05T18:52:00.006Z2008-12-12T10:56:09.732Z

.................BREAKING NEWS...................Whoa! Let's leave aside any improper thoughts we may be having about Judge Glass - she is hot - this is breaking news folks and it ain't constrained by network execs so I can like the judge all I want! - and OJ's talking! In Court! In Vegas!Hey OJ!Let me ask ya something - if you're all cut up about some sports memorabilia (you didn't seem to be a

Nationwidehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09307983227610191582noreply@blogger.com8