‘Tell me a story from your head instead’, commanded C, apparently bored by the mild misadventures of Paddington. A great weariness came upon me. ‘What about?’ I said, closing the book. ‘About… Mr Chocolate Cake,’ she said at random. ‘And a Princess.' ‘Oh for goodness sake’, I said, and proceeded to tell the most ... Read More...
Dabbler Diary
Having the house to myself and thinking to effect an overdue reconciliation with combative hack bombshell Pippa Tregaskis after that unpleasantness last June, I tentatively invited her to come over for an afternoon tipple and some audio entertainment on my newly rigged-up hand-operated copper-plated original Blötzmann Mk III turntable, which ... Read More...
Last year I wrote a short biography of my childhood dog, Jason, and mentioned that, preposterously indulged, he had his own armchair in the front room. It was a pretty naff 1970s-coloured one left over from a previous suite, but this is what British people are like with their dogs. ... Read More...
‘Let’s all get up and dance to a song that was a hit before your mother was born’, I suggested, and so we did, C and E and I, holding hands in a circle, to that one and Penny Lane and Baby, You’re a Rich Man. This is the sort ... Read More...
Toby Ash has spent much of the last year living in the Philippines working for an aid agency helping those affected by Super Typhoon Haiyan, which hit the country in November 2013. This is his Philippines Dabbler Diary... I didn’t want to disturb Ricky while he was applying his make up, ... Read More...
I saw Stephen Fry’s anti-God rant and felt a burst of sympathy for the man. His stance - being very angry with something that he believes nonexistent - is a nonsensical one which usually means the angry person is really angry with Christians, either for being so stupid as to worship an evil ... Read More...
A little after one in the morning we emerged arm-in-arm from the Bristol Museum and walked unsteadily in the direction of the taxi rank outside Brown’s. Mrs Brit was in a cocktail dress and heels. I was in a dinner suit (by M&S, machine washable) and a real bow tie ... Read More...
I’ve taken on a gig writing about culture and whatnot for sofa.com, purveyors of fine furniture and certainly the best place in the visible universe to buy a sofa, and have already written about Vincent Van Gogh's chairs, Impressionist Interiors, His Girl Friday, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette ... Read More...
Nudging our way through the drinkers and smokers outside the Bath Pavilion on a cold rain-spotted Friday night Mrs Brit and I bumped into Ian, an old friend. I’m always bumping into Ian and always pleased for it. He’s the best drunk I’ve ever known, by which I mean it ... Read More...
You'd have to have a heart of stone not to chuckle a little bit at Andrew Mitchell's contriving to catastrophically lose a battle that I for one had thought he'd won months ago, or at least at the Judge's ruling that PC Rowland - the rozzer at the gate - ... Read More...
