Trumpness

 

Well I could sit here all smugly and write about how unbelievably good England’s performance was last night. Even the Donald seemed surprised to see us qualify for the next stage after just two matches. Ordinarily of course we’d be out by this stage, ignominiously beaten by some minnow nation. But not last night as we put the rugby players from Panama to the sword. And yes Donald, Harry Kane is now the leading scorer in the tournament, impressive huh?

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BBCness

So here’s the thing. We’ve been watching the BBC’s Springwatch programme from the Sherbourne estate in the Cotswolds. We love its capturing of the nature scene at this most fertile time of the year. The features on the birdlife are especially captivating. But this posting isn’t about the nature; it’s about the bloody BBCness that pervades the programme. It’s like watching a  Corbynista nature park. Let me explain…

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oh dear

Well I said there was a risk of the last post being viewed as offensive and it proved to be. My daughter E gave me a right lambasting when I popped over this afternoon. She thought the posting was homophobic and just not worthy. Yep fair enough, possibly guilty m’lud. It is clearly being viewed that way which disappoints me hugely, not least because after writing it I reflected and immediately added a para to clarify my thinking which I thought helped articulate where I was coming from. Whether people have read that I don’t know. If not please check out this link again and then decide.

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Gayer than springtime

Now I could be in trouble with this posting. I don’t want to offend but fear I might. You see we’ve been watching Strictly like everyone else for what seeems like the last 5 months and I have to say it’s been enjoyable. I especially loved it when Debbie McGee got to do the dance off. She’s not my favourite  to be honest. For someone who looks like a crinkly pringle, she takes herself far too seriously as a dancer and her facial reaction on hearing that news that she might be heading out of the competition was just indescribably mouth-watering. Not that pringles have that effect on me normally. Continue reading

Giving Pauls a bad name

So this morning I was watching something on C4, probably Frasier, when at the end of the programme the continuity announcer informed us that later this evening is the start of a super new series (note, not a one-off but a whole f**king series) about the life of cake maker Paul Hollywood. My ears started bleeding.

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Dumb and dumber

I spotted something in the news the other day which made me hoot. It appears that Sherie Hewson, who regular visitors to this parish will know I regard as La Dipstick Grande, has decided to leave the TV show Loose Women. Apparently this is in consequence of it becoming too dumbed-down, by having the likes of Katie Price on the panel.  I haven’t watched the show in ages but it must be about as engaging as CBeebies if Sherie thinks the quality is slipping beneath her intellectual threshold.  Now that takes the biscuit! Blimey I’ve heard it all now.

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Odd pairings

So last week-end we had a busy old schedule; a drive up to Northwich, Cheshire on Saturday for the marriage of C’s neice which was designed and entirely produced by lovely G and her top husband M on the theme of a retro afternoon tea party – brilliant. Then a blast back down to Colchester in Essex on Sunday to my lovely cousin K and cool husband A’s place as they were hosting a barbie for my dad Bob, who happened to be having a holiday in Westcliffe. It was a bit of a surprise do as Bob wasn’t aware that we and all our daughters and grandkids were attending as well as my cousin C and her daughters. It was a real gathering of the southern and rapidly expanding section of my family. I have to say that at both events, separated by hours of yet more week-end motorway traffic,  we had a really super time. Both events were bloody fab.   Continue reading