Waking up to the news about the Paris terror attacks this morning has probably brought us all a little bit closer to our own mortality. The nature of what Hollande and Bush before him called ‘Acts of War’ feels so random when the M.O. for the so called ‘warfare’ is a surprise attack on innocent people going about their lives, a night out in a restaurant – perhaps celebrating a birthday or anniversary, a footie fan’s big night out at an international friendly, a metal-head’s long awaited gig… there but for the Grace of God go I, or any one of us.
From the sublime:
To the ridiculous:
I know a lot of people have had some pretty harsh things to say about Postman Pat. The man is clearly an incompetent nerd. However as a piece of programming, the commissioners have gone right somewhere (see: my five year old glued to back to back episodes on the iPlayer). I know all about the secret chucklings at the mere mention of Mr Tumble’s spotty bag, – love him or hate him, he gets bums on seats. And when it comes to Topsy and Tim – well, just read this post and you’ll see that not everyone is as forgiving as me when it comes to annoyingly perky twins banging on about their big house move for SIX YEARS*.