Another of those jeepers creepers weepers who cry for the TV cameras, Billy Connolly no less.
I had a wee go at the Big Yin for shedding tears recently but I’m 500 per cent with him, back in my good books, when he proclaims: “When I see all these London guys who all hang out together at the Groucho (the London club) and all that, I’m really glad I’m not one of them.
“They call jokes ‘gags’. I don’t talk like that, I don’t want to be like them. They have this drive and I’m glad I don’t have it. Like, you must be seen at Edinburgh till you’re 99 and a half. ‘Look at him, isn’t he great!’ No, he’s not great.
“I listen to them on the radio at the Edinburgh Festival but I wouldn’t darken its door.”
Oh, Billy, do come back. And bring the wife with you. We’ll seek forgiveness, we’ll even lick your banana boots, if you’ve not already flogged them on eBay.
We always knew that the BBC would find a peg for erstwhile horse racing presenter Clare Balding. A new series of six of these damn talent, game, quiz shows, call it what you will. All so samey. This one’s tagged Britain’s Brightest.
Prime time on Saturdays, still leaving Clare time to share with Alice, her partner in their civil partnership. But it’s a misplaced talent. Why not make Clare doyenne of darts and have her do the commentary on the game’s major events?
Maybe Clare could throw her weight around and whip these darts-tossers into shape so they don’t encroach on the follow-on programmes. Darts. Glorified bingo, is it not?