Christmas, to me, should be a Dickensian schmaltz-fest of ruddy faced joy and conviviality. The clatter of a carriage on cobbled streets. The crunch of snow under stout leather boots. An Inn with a crackling log fire where bearded men swill porter and supp mutton stew. No Sky Sports. No games of pool. Just raucous…
007. Three digits, one man, five billion dollars in revenue. James Bond is the ultimate brand. After the front page of Google, Daniel Craig’s pecs must be the most valuable space on earth. Pay per nip advertising – his agent’s missing a trick. A third of Skyfall’s £100million budget was paid for by product placement…
The days of the Dandy are back and that’s a fact. Last week I clocked four young lads in Leeds on a Saturday night out, suited and booted-up to the max. Sharp threads breed confidence and like giants they swaggered past a group of shouty, red-faced Wetherspooners, wobbling into The Leopard Lounge for early-doors titillation.…
This month, I’ve been on it like Wallace and Gromit. The showroom lights of Michelsberg HQ have been burning long into the night and like Scotty in Star Trek, “I’ve giv’n her all she’s got captain, an’ I canna give her no more.” There’s been many an evening when I’ve shut up shop, my cheeks…
What’s the deal with blokes who insist on getting their kit off in the City centre? I crossed paths with this chap yesterday morning, his nipple rings flashing at me in the glorious sunshine. Brave as ever, my grip tightened on the handle of my Whangee Umbrella as I prepared to defend myself against this…
I’m halfway through Stephen Fry’s second Autobiography and it’s an absolute gem. When it comes to penning polished prose, he’s a master and it’s a joy to see our beautiful language used with such fondness and aplomb. As an actor, he was marvellous as the towering, mustachioed ‘Melchett’ in Blackadder – perhaps the best sitcom…
The days of grilled fish and a lingering G’n’T after work are gone. Winter is upon us and it’s time to pull up the drawbridge, uncork the red, slam a pie in the oven and welcome back the captains of crap TV into out homes. May I propose a toast to Messers Sugar, Forsythe, Michel…
This month I thought we’d kick things off with the meaning of life. Maslow would have us believe it is to reach ‘self-actualisation.’ Robin Williams, in the film Dead Poets Society, would probably just say ‘Carpe Diem.’ I like the phrase ‘smile and the world smiles with you’ and believe, although a bit schmaltzy, that…
If the eyes are the window to the soul, then a gents wardrobe, and its condition, are the window to his character and aspirations. Who can forget Ray Liotta’s wardrobe in Goodfella’s? – row after row of neatly hung suits, or, the evenly spaced crisp white shirts of Mickey Rourke’s in nine and a half…
Yesterday was officially the last day of summer and to make up for this rather miserable fact, mother nature provided us with one of those rare, truly beautiful evenings. After returning home from an enjoyable dinner with my wife, it was wonderfully warm outside, the air perfectly still. The sky, a riot of pinks and…