With my wife Karen being at her parents home in the People's Republic of Birtley for the weekend, I spent yesterday in the company of a massive pizza. It didn't possess Karen's charm, nevertheless it proved to be an agreeable companion during my binge-watching of rugby and a dramatization of the 1990s trial of OJ... Continue Reading →
Have You Seen That Stevie Wonder Tape, Dad?!
They say that money talks. Well, that may be the case, but I’d wager it wouldn’t get a word in edgewise with my mum. Someone once said of her that “she could talk until the cows come home!” As she never shuts up and we haven’t got any cows it is an analogy of unerring... Continue Reading →