Lazy Blogging (pt...)

A day late but I'm really really ill. I mean I can still see and walk around a lot but I'm ill, I tell you. Ill. Sputum and germs. Stay away.

Anyway, the other day friend Vicus wrote of his admiration for a rugby footballer. The other day Dave did a bit on Graham Hill. Were I still to be sticking posters on my wall I dare say there would be a prominent one of this gentleman. And he is a gentleman: one club for 18 years; 819 appearances, 151 goals; the only player to have played and scored in every season of the Premier League since its inception; the most decorated footballer the English game has produced. But he's Welsh. OK, so you can't win 'em all. On Saturday he scored his 100th Premier League goal. He earns £4 million a year - overpaid primadonna? You want to me to sneeze on you? He EARNS it, he's an entertainer, not a banker. Does football matter? I don't know but it's a difficult case to argue against when you see it being done exceedingly well. Yesterday he was 36 years old and he's still more of a genius with a football than most players will ever be. Happy belated birthday, Ryan Giggs.

Tickled

What a wonderful day, missus, what a wonderful day for tipping a bottle of syrup of figs into Alistair Darling's coffee and saying "How's that for quantitative easing?"

Doddy's in da house.

Solved

I just entered "Peter Mandelson" into google on this library computer. I got this:

"We're sorry...
... but your query looks similar to automated requests from a computer virus or spy ware application. To protect our users, we can't process your request right now.
We'll restore your access as quickly as possible, so try again soon. In the meantime, if you suspect that your computer or network has been infected, you might want to run a virus checker or spy ware remover to make sure that your systems are free of viruses and other spurious software.
If you're continually receiving this error, you may be able to resolve the problem by deleting your Google cookie and revisiting Google. For browser-specific instructions, please consult your browser's online support centre.
We apologise for the inconvenience and hope we'll see you again on Google."

A life's a life...

A couple of years ago I co-wrote/ghosted call it what you will, a biography. Unless you were a real afficionado of mid-40s big band/swing/jazz in this country and South Africa, wrestling, hairdressing and cruise ships (especially the sinking of the Lakonia in 1963 for which he was wrongly blamed) you wouldn't have heard of the subject. Nor had I, it was a commission. Mind you, as I interviewed him and researched the subject it turned out that Tony Kaye was a) a bloody nice and exceedingly hospitable bloke and b) had done a load of dead interesting things, often very funny, some extremely sad and others at pivotal points in history. He'd played alongside UK jazz and music greats such as George Shearing, Ray Davies (not the Kinks one, the Button Down Brass one, hipsters) and Bert Weedon as a young boy and had a fund of interesting and occasionally naff but invariably entertaining stories. When we published the book he was 80. He'd had a life.

Leona Lewis is 24. She warbles in a background music sub-Whitney Houston 80 notes where 3 will do derivative, she won a talent show on telly, has released a couple of moderately well received (by grannies) albums and has a pretty good pair of legs. Sorry, I came over all sexist there. The only controversial thing she appears to have done is turn down a million quid to open The Fugger's corner shop sale one year because he sells fur. Big up to the LLster. She lives a scandal free life with her childhood boyfriend. A month ago she was assaulted as she signed copies of her autobiography. Her autobiography! 2 days ago she played her first ever full-length live concert.

I'm sorry? Just run that one by me again will you? She played her FIRST EVER full-length concert yet she's known as a singer? And has ALREADY written her life story? Before she did the gig? What, may I ask, is in it? Where did she learn her craft? How many smoky basement clubs a night did she work? How many oily spivs wanting 90% and a bit more did she have to negotiate before she got a break? (that's easy, one. Cowell). How many times did she have to stick a leg out behind the broken down Transit on the A41 to get to the next gig? When was the last time she did anything remotely interesting?

If you're still around in 40 years, love, do another one. I might just read it.

Grab it While Stocks Last.

He did tell me he'd been visiting Crewe.