Well, it’s been a turbulent couple of days in the football circus. It seems that thanks to BT I can no longer receive Soccer Am, Sky Sports News and, most critically, Soccer Saturday on my regular digital channels. Oh thanks BT – I don’t suppose you could have secured access rights for your bloody pensioners amidst your glee at capturing sign-up rights for Sky’s Sports channels. Nah.
Well this is another in an occasional series on the perils of man shaving. Sorry ladies. Some time ago I had to make use of my stand-by razor in this little gadget box of toiletry items I keep in my wash-bag. It’s one of those geeky screw together things which you just wouldn’t buy ordinarily. But not only did it save me from having to go out unshaven, it actually worked beautifully because it had a fixed head which is rare in a razor these days. What’s more the head would take the own-brand dual blades I could get in Sainsbury’s at a fraction of the cost of the rip-off Gillette variety. I know this sounds very sad but I really love that dorky razor.
Ah good old Michael Fish. Who can forget his remarkably prescient advice, in response to a concerned caller to the BBC, that the UK wasn’t going to be affected by the tail-end of Hurricane Floyd? 12 hours later Britain suffered from the Great Storm of 1987; a mistake almost as bad as that you-sexy-thang hairstyle and dress-sense. My drive to work the next day took me four and a half trees-strewn-in-the-road hours. And then there was the time that, following a heavy overnight snow fall, TV weather girl Ulrikakaka announced proudly the following morning that she ‘had a good 8 inches last night.’ Ah, such insight.
Pasta Paulie 