Salivating at the very thought and mindful that this could land me in a bit of a jam but the gastro gossip is that the jam roly-poly is making a comeback big style – and not a word about this to your doctor or dietician.
Tesco is now selling ten million sponge puds a year. Yummy. Meantime, sticky toffee pudding, rightfully I feel, has been relegated, but keep that custard on the gas.
Suicidal stuff spilling from Richard Madeley and Judy Finnigan: “If Judy was really ill and in logical mind, and at that point when you just need a little push to go over the edge, I wouldn’t give a tuppenny f*** if there was a risk of being prosecuted. I’d do what was right for my wife and I’d take the consequences. That is your job, that is your responsibility as a partner.”
And Judy is declaring: “I’d do the same. Stuff it all! We’ve made ourselves give each other a pledge along those lines.”
Madeley is 58, eight years younger than his wife.
Job for the boy
We’ve neither seen nor heard the last of him. We’ve learned to live with it, Terry Wogan (Sir Terence, if you please). Forever, apparently.
Loves the limelight, does Terence, and he would have been the very man for the last Euro Song Contest. You might well ask if he’d wanted anything at all to do with it outside of taking the P – and he is undeniably expert at that.
Now, though, there’s a plum post, a vacancy, up for grabs and his syruppy brand of blarney would bring the much-needed breath of humour. The Corporation is hunting for a new chairman so how about tradesman Terence for the job?