Little scrubber Willie, down on his knees again
Didn't realise it was so long since I posted anything. Time flies when you're not enjoying yourself.
The hiatus is mainly due to Lupin Towers being back on the market and the need to make it look presentable to prospective buyers.
For once, I have some sympathy for the aristocracy who have to open their homes to the public, although I doubt that they themselves are ever on their knees scrubbing floors with Flash liquid.
A girl I knew once offered to come and scrub the floors of my flat, saying she was very good at that. I said that might explain why several mutual friends had told me she was a scrubber.
She then withdrew the offer.
Women can be rather touchy like that.
Fortunately, my new estate agent has more of a sense of humour and did not take offence when I told him yesterday that a recession is simply nature's way of culling estate agents.
There are a great many books in my home so you can be sure that some twat will say "Have you read all those?"
And should you conceal any contentious titles? Will The God Delusion offend any bible-bashers and would the late Paul Foot's Why You Should Be A Socialist deter any Tories?
Who cares? Any bible-bashers and Tories can fuck off.
My ideal buyer would be a gay, Guardian-reading blogger who likes gardening and Coronation Street and won't turn the place into some poncy, minimalist nightmare that you see in the Sunday supplements.
Maybe it would be easier if I just stayed here.
It's a relatively recent development for police officers to call a press conference after a trial and not just describe the investigation but launch a vitriolic attack on the character of the convicted person.
I don't recall this happening after any of the high profile trials of my childhood. The most they would say was that they were pleased with the result and felt justice had been done.
Since a proportion of convictions will be overturned on appeal, the police should not be engaging in this kind of public character assassination.
And even where the defendant has pleaded guilty, the facts of a case speak for themselves. If someone has, for example, brutally raped and murdered someone, why do we need some prima donna detective mounting a metaphorical pulpit on the court steps to tell us this man is despicable and evil?
Tonight BBC3 is kindly repeating the first few episodes of Summer Heights High, starting at 11.50pm. The early episodes have some of the funniest scenes, including Mr G's drama class and the glorious silliness of 'Slap the Butcher.'
This series has been a slow burner, gaining viewers by serendipity and word-of-mouth so those who came late to the party can set their recording devices tonight.
I was pleased to see that the Guardian's excellent TV Editor, Gareth McLean, has joined the fan club and made it a pick of the day this week.
There's much more to be said about it but I'll wait until after next week's final episode.
The DVD isn't released in Britain until November but at least that will catch the Christmas market. In Australia it was the top-selling TV DVD of all time.