HAIR today, gone tomorrow. Hair’s tae us, wha’s like us and all that twaddle. Everything’s turned hairy all of a sudden, has it not?
Naomi Campbell would appear to be losing a strand or three around her forehead. Neil Lennon seems to have acquired some, recent mugshots would suggest.
The Hairy Bikers (same old routine) are bound for the Queen’s Hall. John Lewis the department store have been cleaning up with Team GB keyrings and lanyards that are destined to become hairlooms. Where does it all end?
REMEMBER the name, particularly at the next election. Nicholas Boles. The Conservative MP and a bosom buddy of the man who keeps spouting: ‘‘we’re all in this together’’.
Boles is very much in favour of pensioners losing their winter fuel allowance payments, free bus passes and TV licence. Some fellow Tory MPs are echoing these sentiments and talking about Boles as the new party leader. The openly gay Boles is an Oxford product, you won’t be surprised.
It just got verse
YOU never know what they’re going to stick in your hand in the teeming with tourists High Street. As I emerged from the pasta-packed ristorante at 231 a comely lass thrust the flyer at me. Influence \\\9\venue 260) it cried, an abstract caricatured extension of Phil Larkin’s poem, This Be the Verse. Who have you become, it asks. Easily answered. An even grumpier curmudgeon.
Afterwords . .
. . . STILL insisting her favourite place in the world is her plastic surgeon’s office, Joan Rivers is telling us: “I love to travel. It’s just as well because I spend more time in the air than Madonna’s legs.”