WHEN Caroline Flack was arrested and charged for allegedly battering her boyfriend, I remember thinking, “Ooh, that’s interesting”. And then straight away I started wondering about the more important things in life such as: What shall I have for breakfast? I think that she ended up in court and I have it in my mind […]
WHEN Caroline Flack was arrested and charged for allegedly battering her boyfriend, I remember thinking, “Ooh, that’s interesting”.
And then straight away I started wondering about the more important things in life such as: What shall I have for breakfast?
I think that she ended up in court and I have it in my mind that she pleaded not guilty.
I’m also fairly sure that she’s not allowed to speak with her boyfriend until the case comes to court. But I can’t be sure, as I have other things to think about like: I need some new trousers.
Then out of the blue she announced on social media that she was going to speak out because “mine and my families life is no longer up for entertainment or gossip”.
“Wow,” I thought. “That’s amazing. She doesn’t know how to use apostrophes.”
It turns out, however, that while she can’t write properly, she can at least think straight because she never did speak out. Which means she stopped the story from rearing up again.
If only Prince Andrew was as bright. We were all dimly aware that he knew a man in America who’d had lots of sex with young girls.
And that one day, this man had been found dead in a police cell. Then we went back to wondering if we needed more washing-up liquid.
Prince Andrew, however, decided that instead of letting the story die down by not saying anything, he’d go on television to set the record straight.
It was a disaster. He was suddenly front-page news all over the world and he looked guilty as hell.
Of what, we weren’t sure. But whatever it was, we all worked out that as he has a Bentley, he could definitely have got from a Pizza Express restaurant in Woking to the centre of London in less than six hours.
A few weeks later, as the story was withering once more, Hank J Dieselburger, an American prosecutor involved in the dead sex-man’s case, announced that the FBI had received “zero co-operation” from Prince Andrew.
You’d think Andrew would have learned from his earlier mistake. You’d think he’d do a Flack and say nothing.
But no. The very next day, “friends” of the Prince — which is another way of saying “the Prince” — went on the attack, telling reporters he was angry and bewildered. “They haven’t even approached me — I mean him.”
The problem is that ego-fed celebrities read every single thing that is written about them. And they believe everyone else is reading everything, as well.
We aren’t. We don’t really care. So when you attempt to clear your name, it’s like trying to put out a fire with petrol.
It’s better for Andrew, and the whole Royal Family, if he takes a leaf from singer Ronan Keating’s book — “You say it best, when you say nothing at
all”.
Then, perhaps, he could take a leaf from his nephew’s book. And bugger off to Canada.
I’M not defending drugs here, but when you see someone giggling their way through a packet of frozen peas and some leftover sherry trifle at five in the morning, it’s easy to see why someone might think: “Yes, that cannabis malarkey looks like fun. I shall give it a go.”
It’s the same story with cocaine.
You see a dullard finding himself absolutely fascinating at a party and you think: “I’ll have a crack at that.”
But this new drug, flakka, is different.
One man who took it ate a homeless man’s face. Another gouged her own mother’s eyes out. And a third cut off his own penis.
Which raises an interesting point. Why would anyone look at someone cutting off his old fella and think, “Ooh, I’ll have what he’s having?”
A BUNCH of people who think the Lake District should only be used by ramblers decided to stage a protest over plans to put ten small tourist yachts on Grasmere lake.
However, before the protest could take place, the idea was abandoned. And guess what? Yup. The protest went ahead anyway.
They were actually protesting about something that wasn’t going to happen. Which proves what I’ve suspected for quite some time. Ramblers aren’t entirely right in the head.
Next week, they will be protesting about the sonic booms made by Concorde and the burning of witches.
LAST Sunday, driving was banned in the Italian city of Milan.
Who thought that was a good idea? Getting an Italian to leave his car at home is impossible. It’s a part of his being, like his liver and his lungs.
Needless to say, the scheme was not very successful.
So not very successful in fact that, in the first three hours, the police had issued 162 fines. And the authorities now admit the ban was “largely ignored”.
THERE’S much talk at the moment about how internet shopping is killing the High Street. But I’m not one of the murderers.
When the time comes for my annual clothes shopping trip, I simply head to the Levi’s store on Regent Street in London, point at the label on the back of the jeans I’m wearing and ask for three more pairs just the same.
I love Levi’s. I’ve worn nothing else since I was 12 and I’ve always loved their shop, the staff have always been brilliant. They always have what I need in stock and they never ask for my phone number or email address. I’m in and out in two minutes flat.
This year, though, there was a disaster. There were two disinterested youths in there who looked at the label on the back of my jeans and said, “We don’t make those any more.”
WHAT??!?!
On the verge of fainting with shock, I dragged them back from their interesting conversation about Stormzy and was told in an exasperated fashion that I could still buy them online.
This begs a question. What’s the point of having an expensive-to-run shop if you then fill it with people who tell you to go home and buy what you need on the net?
PETA, an organisation for animal enthusiasts who like to wear clothes made from crude oil, have announced that people often see their pet dog as nothing more than a cheap burglar alarm.
Cheap?
You can buy a home alarm kit these days for less than £200, whereas a proper dog is going to be way more than that.
Plus, you only need feed an alarm with a tiny amount of electricity to keep it running, whereas a dog requires a bed, a blanket, food, water and, later on, vets bills that will make your eyes water.
THIS week, a car crashed through my fence, turning it and an expensive new gate into matchsticks.
By the time I got there, the car was gone. But there was still a lot of “police aware” tape fluttering about in the breeze.
So I called the nearest station, which was approximately 600 miles away, as I needed to contact the driver to talk about insurance. Sadly, however, while the police are “aware” of the incident, they are not prepared to give me any details.
Mustn’t grumble, though. While it will cost a few hundred quid to get everything mended, I must accept that the police have much more important things to do, such as investigating dead people who weren’t paedophiles.
