Get a life Poindexter

My nephew, Robin, is something of a creative genius. His bolshy parents even got him into a spods kindergarten called 'Nippas Wiv Aptitude'. He’s ten now and I bought him a Lego hotrod kit for his birthday last week. I was horrified when he came bounding up to me ten minutes after opening it proclaiming “Uncle Harrison I now have the little friend I’ve always wanted. Thanks to you.”
He was also given some new underpants for his birthday which, together with his new toy, inspired him to begin writing his fourth book “Time for a History of Briefs” – I ask you.

Lord of the Rings

I fear that the global credit crunch may affect the opening ceremony for the London 2012 Olympic games. I was in Woolworth’s this morning and I’m fairly sure I saw Sebastian Coe buying a couple of Catherine Wheels, a Status Quo CD and four quid’s worth of Pic n Mix. Don’t hold your breath.

Something's gotta give

My agent, Bernie Shimshelwitz, has got a heart of gold, but I’m not so sure about his ears. I spent an hour on the phone to him the other night complaining about the terrible case of constipation I’ve been suffering from. I don’t know if it was a dodgy line or he was only half listening, but he sent me the book pictured above the next morning.
It’s not the first time he’s bought me the wrong book, of course (see here).

Credit Crunch Spares No-one

Top of the despots

Take the bins out will you Harrison?

Fuck that!

Divide & Conker

After losing last years celebrity conker final to Joe Pasquale (he properly mugged me off, it wasn’t even his conker.) I decided to harden up my conker this year by snidely placing it in the pocket of the trousers that hard man Ross Kemp wore whilst filming his double BAFTA award winning documess ‘On Gangs.’ Let’s see what Pasquale makes of that.

Where whales blow and men chunder

These days you hear so many Brits harping on about how great Australia is and how they long to live there etc. Well, I think it’s time to bring a bit of balance to the subject. I was there in the mid 90s touring a show (see here) and I had a shitty time. For a start it was freezing cold, I was nipped on the arse by a Kafkaesque roach the size of a Jack Russel while using the ‘dunnie’ and literally no-one seemed to hear me when I told them I was allergic to prawns. I was hoping the whale watching trip I’d booked would salvage the whole trip somehow, but, as you can see, I waited three and a half hours for one of the buggers to finally show itself and at the precise moment it did our stage manager Scooter lost his breakfast of, wait for it, prawns over the side.
I was glad to get on a BA 747 home to Blighty and Bargain Hunt, but Scooter was in love with the place and stayed on. Last I heard he’d opened a successful chain of tanning salons for pasty ex-pats called TanPom “50% off, no strings attached”. Each to their own.

Flare Do's

With panic and fear gripping the worlds financial markets, I decided to do my bit and inject some confidence back into the City by buying up as many Socks and Flares that I could lay my hands on. I've just had a call from Henry Paulson telling me he'd just checked his Nadsaq and I've single handedly sent the value of towelling socks through the roof. I'm just happy to help.