I love the sound of deadlines whizzing by

A propos of nothing, I got up this morning like a fag addicted creature stabbing in the dark for my fix, only to remember there is no football today or tomorrow, so now stuck with an entire day to fill interacting with other humans, I need to come up with a game plan that still has room for the two articles I promised but haven't touched since the World Cup has started. I'd like to say that I'm feeling guilty about having had to make an excuse to my editor, but to be honest he knows I been spending my time watching the world cup. What I'm sure concerns him more is that I had time to write an article on the state of Humour, saved English football, reviewed a BBC4 Bio pic , the last episode of Doctor Who till Christmas, and still not even a draft for him to look at. Honestly Mark, I haven't forgotten you, I promise, hand on heart, I'll have something for you in a couple of days tops.   

Well it's many hours later and the visitors I least expected have left, I've made enough spaghetti sauce to feed a small army, the cat has been washed, made some sandwiches re-organized the pantry and took a bath. My wife who is my researcher, baked two loaves of bread and a massive tray of cookies,  but it's not procrastination. I can hear you asking, did you do any writing today?  Well yes in fact, I did some stuff on facelick, banged on in Galli Base about why Germany will take Argentina to go on to the final, and wrote a polite note to my council about getting us a new recycling bin, as the one we have is knackered. All in all a productive day, if not big on  literary output.

I also did one thing I hadn't had a lot of time to do.  I looked at how my list of regular readers has grown. I'd like to thank mysterious person in Moscow for coming back everytime there's a new post, then there's Gavin in Estonia who doesn't read my Who reviews till he's seen the episodes as he thinks I might have too many spoilers, maybe yes and maybe no Gavin. Jeffrey wants to know where the food bits are, they're coming  is the short answer. Have a cracking honey bread recipe that would be at home in any Polish home and if you can lay hands on some matza, you can make your own skor bars...  In the last few days I have established a steady supply of information from Unsigned Sunderland and few other sources ( more on that another time), so a few days hence, you can expect a once weekly list of must try acts you won't ever hear on Darth Cowell's iPOD. Then there's the nice people at BBC Radio Newcastle who have knowingly and not so knowingly contributed to this blog. Nick Roberts and Paddy McDee are legends and if you've not caught their contributions to radio I can only ask , what are you waiting for?

I know some of you are wondering why I didn't write a word about the last few days of World Cup Matches, but if you watched, you'll know that like most, I was too busy trying not to slit my wrists to  dull the pain of having to watch Japan v Paraguay play the kind of football that makes watching paint dry feel exciting. By the time we got to the penalties I was relieved it was over, I didn't care who won. I do know that if I ever see either of those teams on a fixtures list, I will hope they get hammered into oblivion until they learn to at least try and score some goals. Crossing your legs like a frightened virgin seems interesting for the first 5 minutes, but three matches in a row is enough to make you swear off the game. At least Chile  Brazil was interesting even when it was nil nil for the longest time. In the end Chile succumbed 3-0 and it was entertaining.  I must also confess a slight perverse joy in the discomfiture on Christiano Ronaldo's face as he was having a pretty bad day at the office. Seeing him unhappy more than made up for all the unpleasantness a few years ago and since. There are few players currently active that I dislike more, in fact only three and two of them had a vile World Cup, seeing Gatusso not play and then get sent home a loser was personal joy surpassed only by the knowledge that Lippi, master of dull anti-football and cheating will likely be sacked joining the disgraced Raymond Domenech on the manager black list. I won't belabour the point made by a few others in various other blogs and columns, suffice to say that the self important superficial condescending Adrian Chiles, is not worthy of licking Gary Lineker's shoes. Bet you thought I was going to have Chiles lick some other part of Lineker?  Well it's not that kind of blog, but for £2.99 a minute there is a site where you see strange creatures humiliate themselves live on telly. Is anybody still watching Big Brother? ITV have proved that even the World Cup can be trivialized to a point where you wait for the last possible second before tuning in to the match to miss the awfulness that is the ITV warm up show. Thankfully, you can choose who's coverage of the final you want to watch, with luck, next World Cup/Euro ITV will be stripped of any right to International football.

You may wonder who the revelation of the world cup has been, the most remarkable person or thing  to come along and make a permanent mark on our imaginations. Is it Diego Maradona, maybe the Dung Beetle, or perhaps the seriously annoying vuvuzela? Putting on my best Jeremy Clarkson voice, You're all wrong , it's ...  Ivica Slavikova  , yes the bird off the Sky broadband advert featuring the perverse (purrverse) pea in her mattress. Every time she say "Stop leaving vegetables in my bedding. Its perverse",  males watching are hypnotized or at least trying not to let it show if the  girl friend or wife is in the room. And on the subject of these self same women. Such brave, long suffering people they are, even my football loving wife wonders how I've managed to watch all but one live match without going blind, crazy and soft in the head. I'd like to put this in perspective. If you follow a team like say Newcastle United, and somehow you watched every match they played in the season, you'd have 38 regular season matches, a few FA Cup ties say 4, if you make Europe, another 10 if you go all the way, so 52 in total over a period of 10 months. I have watched 52 of 56 matches since the World Cup kicked off . I will watch another 7 between Friday and the final for a total of 64 matches in under a month with only a two day break. I've grown used to the idea I could see two allegedly high quality matches a day and even secretly missing the inane droning of Mick McCarthy in my ear. My wife knows enough to let me have my fun, it's only every two years and the rest of the time "I'm the best". Football zombie Mietek will be around for another couple of days and it's back to normal programming, my editor will have a steady stream of brilliant stuff, my wife will be able to talk to me normally as opposed to only for 10 minutes in between matches, life will go on and I will catch the occasional crap friendly, or Europa league qualifying match until the real football comes back in August.   Those of us lucky enough to have women loyal enough to understand we won't always be like this, need to appreciate how lucky we are. Some men have been forced to miss the football to go to in laws, do shopping or eat out cos it's nice.  These women don't seem to know we'd rather have our teeth pulled than miss the World Cup. So men, after all the fuss is over, and you need to go on footie withdrawal, show some appreciation to your lady, take her to see that new vampire porn flick that just came out, ( you can sleep in the dark it's ok) , you could have a few friends over and talk for hours she'll like that, or you could just revert to default setting and that will seem like a huge improvement on the grunting football obsessed eating sleeping lump she's been living with for the past month.

 If you do manage some telly time and you've missed these gems earlier in the week, go to your iPlayer and fire up Mock the Week, Graham Norton from this Monday and the first new Top Gear. More on those tomorrow as well as some recipes and music you won't find anywhere else.

In othe telly news Phil Collison Corrie boss and ex Doctor Who producer was recently asked about plans for the 50th anniversary.. “It’s still quite early and we’re still planning what we’re going to do. We’ll be announcing more details soon but what I can say is that it’ll be massive. It’ll be Corrie like you’ve never seen it before.” Collinson was also asked whether Corrie would be repeating the idea of a live episode like they did for the 40th anniversary in 2000. He acknowledged that the idea had been raised but added that he wasn’t terribly enthusiastic about the idea himself, citing the enormous amount of coordination necessary to make it work. I'll take that as a no Phil. Regardless, since his eps have started to run, Corrie has been a treat to watch. Good work Mr.Collison. Long may you reign.

One more day of rest and maybe I'll get closer to finishing at least the one article this week. In the mean time, if you feel like wasting a few bob at the bookies, put a fiver on Germany to get past Argentina. If they loose, it's just a fiver, but if they win the odds are tasty. If' I'm right send me my ten percent in the post. Laters all.

x=(2010 - 1966) Years of pain , still we keep believing, Come on England!

It's 55 years since Newcastle United won the FA Cup last,  44 years since England won the World Cup, it was also the only time England won the World Cup. In 1966 I was a tiny little boy , my biggest concern was being vaguely aware of the 1000th anniversary of the founding of the Polish State. There were Church basement parties, I'm told I went to parades and special concerts . If I'm honest, I don't remember all that much. Just  loads of strangers in our house. It wasn't till years later that I began having  memories of any kind worth getting worked up over.  And yet  those victories in 1955 and 1966 resonate in my soul to such an extent that I can tell you about those great teams. I've seen the clips and read the books, and yet there are days I can't remember where I left my keys,but ask me about a Champions League Final or Derby, I can paint a picture in words. As a football supporter I reckon time in fixtures lists and summer breaks. I can tell when something happened if I can attach a canny goal, famous victory or more often than not, yet another disastrous outing for Newcastle or England. As in answer to the question, "When did you meet your wife?"  Well I know it was before  we went out on pens to Portugal but after we beat Sunderland 4-1 away.  It was Shearer's last ever match and he scored that penalty late in the 2nd half..... .

Now if you are one of the few non football types reading this, let me explain something to you. When we are in fits of rage, finger nails reduced to bloody stumps and unable to sleep or eat from worry, we are in fact having fun. I know it doesn't look like that, but we are. It's our biennial ( World Cup and Euro) rush of blood to the head, when we get to dream yet again of faded glory and hope springs eternal that the latest manager won't screw it up or a certain Chelsea player won't go green at the gills and miss a pen that he would otherwise nail any other day.....I Still feel sick thinking about that one. It's our outlet for feeling that testosterone filled tribal unity of purpose without having to declare war or sacrifice virgins on an altar. We get to wear some seriously silly clothes and bond with total strangers we might otherwise never talk to. We as a planet ( except for maybe two countries) indulge in  some pretty serious male bonding followed  by even more male bonding. Football, is one of the last refuges of talent, skill, fitness and luck that exists today. You can within reason predict an outcome, but as they say , it's a funny old game, between the ref and the weather and the mood of the players and the crowd, there is no way of knowing for sure how it will end. Unlike X factor, you can't see the winner till end of play.

Thanks to Bend it like Beckham, it has also become acceptable for girls to join in as well. Pretty good if you're a male of the species seeking a mate who will also declare that the calendar only has 10 months in it except in Euro and World Cup years , when it has 11 months broken up by the wait for the next fixtures list. There is however a risk in mixed marriages, derby days can be a bit of a struggle. Do you let it all hang out or pretend you're just a bit gutted for your wife when your mortal enemies have just been spanked 4-0, meaning she will be mardy for the rest of the day?  I won't advise you on this as any advice I give you will be wrong and you'll only blame me for the ruination of your life. In my case, my wife still loves Man United but has become such a Toon supporter she bleeds black and white more than I do. Whatever you, don't say Mike Ashley if she's got a sharp object.

Now what am I feeling and thinking right now, a few days before the big kick off? I'm wondering if all my tops are clean, do we have enough food and drink in for the week end and will I be able to get my writing deadlines in before I do sod all because I can't be moved from in front of the telly? Somehow I doubt it . That's it, nothing else matters for the next month, I will eat breathe and sleep football. I love Doctor Who, but I'm hoping it's not going to interfere with the matches. At least this year the Cup is being played only an hour away instead of Korean central time. I'm not willing to get up at strange hours for most things, but the World Cup is different. If I don't see the match live, I'll be forced to avoid friends, steer clear of newspapers, radio and entire web sites. It can't be done and it's unfair to ask me.  Pretty shallow I hear you saying, and maybe you're right, there are bigger issues, earth shatteringly important things like, will the officiating be as good or better than in 2006, or will we see a repeat of the scandals of 2002 with the shameful displays of diving, corrupt officials and doubtful calls that seemed to favour a certain host nation until the world threatened to stop watching. Then there's the whole question of the electronic official. I'd love to have a clean World Cup, a WC that has refs that are without flaw and get every call right. Thing is they are human, and that means they make mistakes. We don't have to tolerate the worst of them any more, there is goal line technology that will determine in seconds flat if the ball went in, or if  Maradona handled the ball. I am also concerned that if they mess with the ball yet again, it will affect the way the way the game is played. I'm worried refs will expect respect but still take the piss out of players.As you can see I'm a sensitive and complex man.

My biggest conflict is my desire to see the players  I follow the rest of the year every year, perform well, and not get hurt. If I'm honest, as much as I'd love to see a 2nd star on England shirts, I'd almost rather have Newcastle United as far from bottom of the table and go 6th or even 4th in the Prem. While for some of you, that Croatian with a funny name is a revelation, my wife however will have been watching Vidic play for Manchester United for  the last few years. The last thing we want is to see is our best players banged up on pitches  thousands of miles from home playing for a team that will likely not win the tournament or place in the final 8. Michael Owen spent more time in therapy than on the pitch for Newcastle as it is, but. our hearts sank when he was injured in 2006. The club has yet to recover all the financial damages claimed from his World Cup exit. Considering the amount of time he was on the books for the Toon, we'll never know what impact he could have had if he'd played regularly.

Speaking of  agony and what might have been, right  here, right now, I have a terrible ache in the pit of my stomach, a feeling of dread that we will be afflicted by every calamity, bad call and mismanaged substitution that has snatched defeat from the jaws of victory time and again. I'm sure the feeling will be replaced soon enough by misplaced optimism and pure hope in the belief that this year is the year we do it. This year is the year we can finally stop counting the bloody years of pain in those maudlin songs they keep writing. Despite  the injuries ( Rio Ferdinand) and slightly combative spirits ( Rooney) It is possible we could win this year. Every year we won ( see above) , England did not have a song. This year , we don't either, see my last post about the terminally unfunny Mr Corden and the abysmally bad SHOUT. Spirits are high, last Saturday fewer people watched the telly BAFTAs than watched England play the rest of the world  in a charity kick about taken by far to many of us far too seriously,  where we went out on pens (again) . On the back of that performance, we've been promised the real England team have practised this time. I for one believe our Italian. Robert Green, West Ham's goal keeper  helped his club place 17th this year, surely the clear superior of  Buffon and co. 

I suppose I may as well admit now that in a few weeks I'll be writing about how we were robbed, bemoaning the quality of officiating and wondering how we went out on pens yet  again to ( insert team name... Portugal Italy Germany  Brazil) . I might even be inconsolable for at least a week and only calm down when the first rays of Top Gear emanate from my telly. On the other hand , we could have won the Cup and I will be floating on air for weeks . One is allowed to dream, isn't one?

Regardless of what happens, a few quick rules during the World Cup.

1-Do not leave the room for food, bathroom breaks, or anything less than a fire or angry ferrets, and even then you should wait for half time or else somebody will score, usually the other guys.

2- Do not ring your mate during a match or during the last five minutes " for a joke". It's never ever funny, and he'll hate you for life.

3- Never ever say " It's just a game". There lies danger and you will be held responsible for any injuries you have justly asked for.

4- If you are new to this, when entering a pub, bar, sitting room full of devotees,  pick a player, occasionally shake your  head, say his name in a concerned or excited way and you might even look like you know what you're talking about.

5- Depending where you are on planet Earth, go to sleep early and set you alarm clock. I assure you, your boss will understand why you look half dead and your productivity has dropped by 50 %.

5- Join a pool of some kind, you might even put a fiver on the tournament, it will heighten that ecstasy or agony all the more when you have pride and few bob riding on the result.

6 Pick a team to support when your side tumbles out ignominiously. No fun just watching for three weeks .

7- Find a Brazilian party, win or loose, they will be the highlight of your World Cup, and the women are hot.

8- Lastly, Remember to  wash, even girls into football, don't like sleeping with trolls.


If you follow these simple rules , you will have joined the rest of humanity and had a good time in the bargain.

See you  Monday for the usual Telly and music stuff.... COM'N ENGLAND!

We came DEAD last in EUROVISION and other news from the glowing box

We came in dead last, 10 points, I nearly died laughing with the final indignation of being pushed into absolute bottom of the table by of all countries, Belarus. My mate Stu and my wife were incoherent with laughter. Apart from the shame of finishing behind the worse song in the final, we deserved what we got. My wife used to do stand up comedy, I mention this only as she has had to come on after a stonking  great act that killed. Short of self immolation, there is nothing you can do to look good after some guy has stripped off and shot fire from his arse. Poor Josh had to perform right after the highest octane party piece of the night. Greece OPAe'd the crowd into a dance frenzy only to be equalled later by the French song, he didn't stand a chance.  I feel bad for Josh, he'll have to give back the economy pack of M&S underwear the BBC bought him. Maybe now a guest spot on the washed out Eurovision acts edition of Come Dine with me? He's so old news, even Jordan , real name Katie Price, won't pretend to have an affair with him. 

The reason we did come in last was a vestige of block voting. Belarus, the country who sported butterfly wings and bad phonetically sung English  ( I told you I would remember) had a neighbour give them their douze points, bless em. Arguably the worst act of the night, they ranked below Britain and Ukraine in poor song choice poor singer choice poor costume choice and the resulting mess of previously mentioned choices. And yet they still managed to get more points than Britain. That said, block voting seems to be well and truly dead. Some countries did not get the memo and triggered sporadic booing by giving  the Russian entry that had suicide help lines on red alert, 90 points.  Ireland however preferred voting for good songs and only gave Britain 4 points, seems Eurovision has turned the corner on at least this one big issue. The winner even came from one of the four sponsoring nations, things are looking up.

How did my countries to follow fare?

Greece 8th 140 points
France 12th 82 points
Serbia 13th 72 points
Germany 1st 246 points
Turkey 2nd 170 points
Albania 16th 62 points

Full final results here  Britain voted 8 points for Romania, 10 points for Turkey, and 12 points for Greece.


Some final thoughts on Eurovision before I file it away for another  year. Apologies to Albania, I completely forgot to praise a song that was genuinely good, catchy and worthy of any mainstream radio. Saved the big kvetching for the lowlight reel, the few incidents along the way  that caused us pain or giggles. While not a bumber crop, there were a few moments.  Russia made us want to leave the room and floss our teeth or worse, when he dropped the photo , my only thought was , were they trying to lose? Spain had a mildly amusing pitch invasion. If I'm honest, Daniel Diges managed to carry on as if it was part of the act never missing a beat. Ukraine had a tone deaf girl dressed in Yoda's cowl, who were she not dead fit, was only saved by the ubiquitous wind machine. I couldn't say much about her signing as I had the telly on mute during most of her performance.  Bjork  sang without her trade mark swan dress. Having packed on that much weight and changed her singing style..It does explain why she hasn't been invited to a Brit Awards in a while. Barefoot Georgia was a bit awkward to watch. I still don't understand why she needed help walking from her back up dancers? Maybe if they had worn orthopaedic shoes she could have at least moved around a bit. Graham Norton during the entire proceedings was his usual sarcastic self. At times you almost believed him when he ever so faintly praised Josh Dubovie or was effusive about the butterfly dresses. His best wit  was reserved for some of the jackets "even he wouldn't wear" or the times he took the mickey out of himself for being vapid during an interview with some Eurovision hostess. I missed a lot once the scores came in as myself and Stu were making inappropriate remarks about the ladies  reporting votes from various capitals. Aim for the gutter and you about got it right. You know I'm almost looking forward to next year now.

Graham Norton back at his day job, was up to his old tricks. Last Monday was yet another mostly decent ep, save for the presence of the stunned , dull  disoriented and confused Janet Jackson and her puppet master Tyler Perry. Comedian Marcus Brigstocke and Norton kept the show moving till Python Legend Eric Idle was released from the green room to thunderous applause. He of course should have been there from the beginning as he is in the grand scheme of things, bigger than Janet Jackson. You felt the programme come  to life the moment he stepped onto the altar of chat and took over. Poor Janet looked like she had just been run over by a fast moving train. I know you need the odd American guest, but they should be first made to watch an ep or two before coming on. As for Janet Jackson, the only person more out of it when they were on was Katie Price.

Speaking of mistakes, Last Monday I might have been a tad harsh on J.J. Abrahms. I basically said he needed to have some balls and tell  ABC where to go when they demanded MORE eps than three years worth. I stand corrected. Source of all that is knowable in such things, Kieth "Telly" Topping ( Telly  not his real middle name) informs me of the following.."Basically, the creators sold the show to ABC as a recurring series which had an end to it. Now, writers in that position are onto something of a hiding because, if nobody watches the early episodes, you might have to wrap the whole thing up with very little notice around episode eight! But, on the contrary, if it takes off then the network is likely to want five, six, seven, eight, ten, however many years of miling it. Simple economics of TV, that. Don't kill the oglden goose. What happened with Lost was that sometime around about the middle of season three, Casee and Lindelof realised that every time they wanted to take a step forward in terms of the overall plot, they then had to take a couple sideways (that entire episodes which existed purely to explain where Jack got his exotic tattoo from, is the example they usually cite). So, they approached ABC and said, to the effect, 'we need about fifty episodes from here to finish this so, how about we do two seasons of twenty four episodes and then end it.' ABC reluctantly agreed (since the show still had a pretty big audience) but suggested instead a compromise, three series of sixteen instead of two of twenty four. (In the end, due to a number of exterior factors we got three seasons of fifteen-seventeen-and-eighteen!)".  As I explained somewhere else, I was writing on the basis of media reports at the time of the initial announcement . This bit of news of course makes absolute sense and I thank Keith for the clarification. I stand by my opinion though that it was stretched out too long and would have made more sense without so much filler.

On to more pressing things ..... If you haven't seen Doctor Who this week, please avert your eyes for the following segment.  Part 2 of the Silurian resurrection  was everything I said it would be. Laughter, pain , grief anguish and sarcasm, and that was just the pre Eurovision debate we had before DW came on. Ok I've warned you , from here in  I'm in spoiler land...

The best and the worst of humanity is on display, warriors posture, maternal instincts lead to poor choices, love blossoms, and some memories fade for ever. DW bosses have set up a tasty sequel to take place 1000 years from now. Will humanity be any more inviting to the Silurians than they were this time? will the Silurian's military be just as trigger happy and more interested in "Living space" than sharing the planet with apes? Only the writers know for sure , but I know one thing, it will be classic stuff. I particularly liked the way the way so much sacrifice seems to be for the good, deeply flawed mother becomes teacher of peace and cooperation , lover becomes a bridge between the races. Lastly....... Amy looses Rory for good, not only is he killed, but he is lost to the rift in time. Amy strugles to remember him , but it's pretty clear for now that he's gone. Last time a companion death made me feel that bad, Adric was taken from us. Unlike Mickey, remember Mickey? Rose's ex? ... the gormless one ? No nothing?  Mickey gets shipped off to Torchwood where he marries Martha and fights aliens. Not the glorious death that will be stuff of legend and song is it? Rory will be missed by many , but not by the writers who had to figure a way to dodge the bullet of the wedding the next day before Amy signed on board the Tardis. I have saved the best for last though. The famous rift in time, the one that keeps swallowing up whole people and otherwise indestructible monsters, just got more complicated and tragic. As a fan I cannot help but think that there will be an end time for something. Perhaps the Doctor himself or the Tardis, which of course is far worse. We are used to the idea of new faces, new costumes, but the notion of our beloved knackered old type 40 Tardis one day being junked in a tragic act of supreme sacrifice to save the universe, is too much to bear. I predict a Facebook save the Tardis campaign, many letters to Ofcom and a silly editorial in the Guardian wondering what the fuss is all about.

In the perhaps it's too early to laugh department, I heard this gem from a fellow poster at Gallifrey Base.

Quote Arn....I can't see what anyone could get upset about with tonight's Who. After all a stiff Rory's been up Amy's crack plenty of times before.

Where do you go from that bit of crassness?  Why Britain's got talent of course. This programme makes Eurovision look like Royal Shakespeare. Best bits from Saturday  had to be the strange Ali Baba who did some spectacular Slavic and Turkish dancing. Pity Big Top Amanda only seems to know street dance and Michael Jackson impersonation. One hopes she doesn't get asked to judge on Strictly. Ali Baba stormed off in a huff of Mediterranean passion leaving his "friend" he met on hols in the lurch. Strange man , strange relationship. The other strange bit of casting was putting through the Michael Jackson miming pig as well as the truly awful Madonna drag queen. Truth be told, the pig was better.  Mercifully, the top 40 selection has trimmed away the vast majority of street dance troupes and left a decent amount of drag acts , freaks, singers acrobats and  assorted "other ones" .  Now it's BGT and Corrie giving us a full week of drama , pathos and utter shite, still not sure who will deliver what .

My father being a veteran who travelled with the British 8th corps ( in the polish Karpacka Brygada) has told me many stories about the miracle of Dunkirk. You need to watch Dunkirk :The story behind the legend BBC. An eye opening investigation in perhaps the most important action in World War 2 in the spring of 1940.  If you will allow me this one moment of sentimentality. Take the time to get to know your parents and grandparents. Learn the story of their sacrifices while they can still tell you. Our way of life for better or ill , is what it is because of them. If you've lost yours, make friends with somebody else's grandparents.

Now if you like Time Team or the Story of Science, you might think History Cold Case on BBC2 was worth catching. Don't bother. Where Time Team would have come to some  fairly accurate conclusion in about 6 minutes , Cold Case is still hemming and hawing 45 minutes in. It's Science for dummies dressed in a lot of pretty gimmicks. Don't wast your time. Another waste of time had to be Question Time. Alistair Campbell was told to piss off or the new ConDemn coalition was going to boycott. How very democratic, on second thought here is the link . BTW Paul saw you in Tower blocks and Togas, have you still got that leather jacket?

A few quick links Child of our time personality test  is compelling and is far from over, take the test.  Jonathan Dimbleby started an absorbing voyage across Africa . Looking through the various Players, I've found this to pass the time if there aren't any compelling programmes this week. Blackadder rides again, and Trafalgar: Battle surgeon  It's the only programme on the subject that ever mentioned that there were women on board the Victory. If all else fails, rent Life on Mars or dig out your Sweeney tapes.

On a different note, I'd like to suggest you have fun with a hand whisk this week, unplug the magimix , and make a pavlova or meringue. Takes me the same amount of time and I have more control than any magimix ever gave me.   Or get yourself a pastry cutter, canny for blending butter and other things in a pie dough ,again ditch the magimix, the moment the dough happens is special. Jamie does the Pyrennes had  a great recipe for a warm summer salad. We had it today and will keep it as a regular on the menu now.

Blog brought to you by Nick Robert's Beat Surrender on listen again,  this week's a great alternative to Eurovision. Get ready for the World Cup by taking Keith Topping's World Cup Trivia . Till next Monday then!