July 13th – come along with us, to the glorious, annual, ugly bug ball.

It’s time to split his portfolios up and give one to putative modern-day saint, Saint Greavsie of Television.

April 5th – The concrete and the clay, beneath my feet begins to crumble.

Almost everything that everyone else says is not worth the air with which it is spoken, obviously.

‘You’re one of them now,’ he said, ‘a talentless gobby prick with ideas above his station and work to match.’