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Month: March 2008

Being a freelance type, I know far too much about daytime television. I hate most of it and the personalities involved. If Lorne Spicer ever turned up on my doorstep asking to see what I’ve got in my attic, I’d show her the redundant and very heavy Sony Betamax machine that lives up there by dropping it on her head. I thought Trisha Goddard was the worst person ever to appear on television, but then along comes Jeremy Kyle to…

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I saw a poster for a Pink Floyd tribute band earlier today, which bore a hell of an endorsement. “Possibly the best concert experience you will ever have”, it said. Who was responsible for this encomium? According to the poster, it was “The BBC”. Did the Corporation have a representative poll of its staff from the DG downwards, or are the band’s management parlaying up a doubtless heartfelt tribute from a Radio Shropshire work experience student? I think we should…

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There must be something in the air. Shortly after The Urban Woo’s computer went sideways, my own 4 year-old laptop decided to switch itself off terminally. After establishing that the power supply was fine, I worked out it was a motherboard replacement job and decided that it’d be cheaper and easier in the long run to get a fully-guaranteed refurb machine. So I did, and although the product description said the lid was pink, the pictures online did not convey…

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I was determined to stay well out of the chain letter book meme thing currently infesting bloggery, but when a man as nice and good as Matthew Rudd asks one to step up to the plate, only a real churl could refuse. The idea is to turn to page 123 of the book you’re currently reading, count down three sentences, then reproduce the next five sentences. Five-Centres has made the whole thing more interesting by making people guess the book,…

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I now own a David Hockney original. That’s it on the left, embodying the great artist’s current crusade against the absurdities of the nanny state. I can’t resist a good badge, and when I saw others at the Oldie of the Year awards yesterday wearing theirs, I quite shamelessly bounded up to him and asked if he had any left. Thankfully he did, and I shall now wear it with great pride. He was there to receive the Gasper of…

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As Brian Matthew’s Sounds of the Sixties is to my Saturday morning, so TV Burp is to Saturday teatime. It’s the only way I am ever likely to have any contact with, or knowledge of, BBC3’s Freaky Eaters, which has become one of Harry’s favourite Aunt Sallies (When Harry Hill Met Aunt Sally? Is Eunice Tubbs available? Commission x 13). Last night’s Burp featured a Freaky Eaters clip in which a woman who ate only bread, tinned spaghetti hoops and…

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Listening to ‘your old mate’ Brian Matthew’s Sounds of the Sixties on the Light Programme, as is my Saturday morning wont, I realised that Heather Mills McCartney missed a trick in her abortive campaign to turn the world against her ex-husband. Now, I like Macca and find it extremely hard to believe that he ever showed Linda his hairy back hand. In this, I am far from alone, with the result that many now think of HMMcC as a lying…

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As a fully paid-up geek, I love modern communications technology, but, like everything, it has a downside. Spam email is one of the less agreeable aspects of the whole shooting match, although filtering and a panoply of different email addresses for different purposes help keep its incursion into my busy, exciting life to a minimum. Sometimes, it can even be amusing, such as when some herbert claiming to be Peregrine Worsthorne tried to sell me penis extension surgery. The other…

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