Month: May 2008


"For a cautionary tale, everyone cites Paul Bradley Carr." - THE SUNDAY TIMES


The rain in Spain: apparently somebody didn’t get the memo

It’s raining in the mountains of Spain and we’re listening to the Suga Babes covering the Arctic Monkeys, which is wrong, as the phrase goes, on so many levels.

Also wrong is watching Eurovision on Spanish television, which was our entertainment last night. You really do realise how shit Eurovision is when you don’t have Wogan dryly commentating on proceedings and getting increasingly pissed as the night goes on.

Fortunately we filled in for him, getting absolutely twatted on white sherry, my bad Spanish pronunthiation having inadvertently secured us a bottle of fino blanco de la casa as opposed to vino blanco de la casa. On that front, the devil really is in the detail.

Still, well done Russia, eh?

And, as if things weren’t bad enough, after the sherry we moved on to some strange blue concoction in one of those pour-straight-into-your-mouthy bottle things , bought for us by an old local man. What’s the worst that can happen?

Answer: we had a lock-in until 5am and agreed to go parasailing next week. From the top of the mountain.

God help us and the goats that we land on.


Weekend housekeeping: your technical questions answered

It’s the weekend – a holiday weekend in the UK, no less – so the proper daily posting schedule on the new blog won’t start until Monday, after I’ve finished testing, making sure nothing looks too shit in Internet Explorer (are we still doing that?) and all that jazz.

But, between the time I rolled in to bed at a little after 6am this morning and staggered out into the Spanish sunshine again at a little after 1pm, lots of people have been kind enough to email and DM with feedback, suggestions and questions.

I’m going to wait a bit longer before I start going through the feedback properly – not least because it’s been entirely, 100% positive so far – mainly from friends – so that kind of skews things. It’s all very much appreciated, though – thank you.

I figured, though, that answers to a few of the initial questions might prove useful sooner rather than later – so here goes. A mini-FAQ-in-progress if you will…

1) Comments: the fact that they’ve been coming in by email and Twitter rather than using the comments form was my first clue. A couple of people have asked why the need to pre-register for comments, and then still be pre-moderated.…

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We built this city on… eww… wait… tell me that’s not… oh Jesus Christ…

Now officially the most expensive city in the world, according to the current issue of Newsweek, and with an old Etonian as its new mayor, London is certainly having something of a crisis of cool. And by crisis, I mean absolute and total hemorrhaging.

Streets awash in politically bankrupt free-sheets that prove the maxim, “you can’t put a price on total shit”, Johnny Vegas sexually assaulting girls at the Bloomsbury and – fuck – when the So Solid crew starts recruiting shotgun-toting Barristers, surely it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge. Although not via Terminal Five, obviously.

I’ve spent a bit of a manic few days hopping all over the city, catching up with a whole bunch of people I haven’t seen in a while – pedalling a boat on the Serpantine with Rob and Richard, lunching in Farringdon with Angus, networking on the Southbank with Mike Butcher and the great and the good of UK.com and finally last night partying in Soho with Zoe, Maggie, Anna, Michael, Tom, Scott, two Alexes and a whole bunch of others. And while the people were as cool as ever was, there was something – a definite something – missing.…

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