Save It For Someone Who Cares

Work is terrible. Terrible, terrible, terrible. I wish I could tell you about it, but I can't. I have learned that particular chuffing lesson.

So what else is there to talk about? Stephen Fry? OK. He is still whinging about some unkind comments on his twitter page. As an habitue of football message boards I have some sympathy for him, but not much. His curly headed pal, whose name I forget, indulged in a festival of swearing and abuse in Fry's defence, which is OK, apparently.

So, what else? Terry Henry. I couldn't give a stuff about Ireland or France to be honest, but this little incident has generated some heat, with the moral high horse dwellers having a field day. I suspect that every single one of them is a hypocrite. The best thing about it was Liam Bradys barely coherent interview on 5 Live the morning after, which prompted Jimmy Armfield, a master of drollery, to comment, " I don't think he's had his breakfast yet".

Another good thing I heard on the radio this week was John Humphries interview with the increasingly odious David Cameron, in which Cameron blithely dismissed his u turn on a referendum over Europe. For a man whose favourite insult against poor old Gordon seems to be ditherer, it was rather funny. Actually, it wasn't funny at all but it was nice to see the chinless bastard put on the spot for a change.

Can't say I have been inspired by much music lately. The Duke and The Kings album is easily the best thing I have heard all year and nothing is coming close to it yet. However. Mumford and Sons are alright and are available on spotify. Their website is pretty good too and isn't just the usual marketing device. It even has a book club, which is alright by me.

Should I mention the Blues? OK then. The previous owners are having a bit of bother letting go. They don't seem able to do it and keep turning up in the press with ill judged and ill mannered comments. Meanwhile the new lot continue to play a cute PR game and have won most fans over. It is all a bit murky though, the truth is we have no fucking idea who owns us.

On the pitch we are doing OK. We have enjoyed two draws in our last two games and now everyone who was calling him a useless Scotch pillock with no tactical nous at all is hailing him as a genius. I urge caution. I have never doubted Eck but it's a bit early to be getting carried away, we are still perilously close to the drop zone, our scoring record is abysmal and we need a few wins. Draws are not enough, lucky or not. Don't tell anyone I said that though.

And Cameron Jerome is still shit. A lucky toe poke does nothing to change that.

I finished the Levien pretty quickly. It was a damn good page turner. He has been involved in some pretty shit films and is apparently involved with the filming of The Winter of Frankie Machine. I'm not sure how I feel about that. He writes good books but makes shit films. I won't hold my breath.