Beer, Blair and Mandy's new name

Guess who they are calling Mr Mandelweasel? That's Business Secretary Lord Mandelson to you and me but I prefer his new title - seems to suit him. Just a slip up on someone's part, but the truth will out.

Mandy says he's not bothered, reckons he's been called worse in the past. Now that's a fact. Weasels are "beyond his remit" says his press man, but take one , hard look at the guy, those tiny, sharp little eyes and pointed features. Close? Could be brothers.

His pal Blair is back too, looking orange. Hotfooted it up to County Durham to share a pint and get the lads on side for Gordon. Never mind he can't stand the man and we all know it. Geordies are so clearly God's own folk but what a blind spot they've got for Blair. It's like taking a pretty lass home and waking up next to a troll. The beer blurs the vision. That's why they call it lunatics'broth.

University Challenge clever clogs

Speaking of smarts - do you believe in thought transference? Reason is, I've been able to answer the chemistry questions on University Challenge. Twice. And what I know about the periodic table is.... But tonight, there it was, straight into my head, Ag, silver, I said, just before the amazing boffin boy came up WITH THE SAME ANSWER! Spooky or what.

Last time I did that was when I watched last question on the show, noted the fiendishly clever answer and then watched it again on plus 1. So worth it to see the looks on their faces. Although I did come up with polypropylene once. Not natural. Chemistry just isn't my thing.

Got more detentions for that than anything else. So is someone sending out thought waves? Or is that very dangerous ground indeed? I could be very much on my own with this one.

The boy's got brains - but what's missing?

Well. there's Einstein and there's me. Sometimes wonder how we could share the same planet, never mind species. They've just discovered he was right again about dark matter speeding up the universe. Wish I could say I told them so.

How come my spongey stuff is so inferior to his? Not that it's that bad, there are brighter cups of tea than some folk around here, but you see the dilemma. How does one person turn out a genius and another bog-standard, given the same basic building blocks, as it were.

Suppose it's like a Doberman and a Dachshund. Same sort, different cut of the jib. Did Einstein cook a mean roast dinner? Could he hold a tune? He married his cousin - does that make him a bit iffy somehow? Nuts and bolts of it - was he crap in bed? You've absolutely got to hope so, haven't you?

Gay birds are fun

We've got a couple of gay robins in the garden. I like red - so a bit of C on C is no problem. Many moons ago an ex who was also a bird fan - his interest in them outlasting me - said that robins are very territorial and they will fight for space.
Seems the red breast is not a mating thing, it's a warning to other males to stay away.

Well my pair of luvvies have been here ages and show every sign of getting on famously. Could be that they don't have to squabble over food - it's on the house. No need to ruffle those pretty feathers.

Gays are everywhere. We do it, dogs do it and so do sheep.Big bold rams who should flock to females, are tupping each other. They leave their mark to prove it. So can the Church just get it's big fat head around the fact and leave them all in peace?

Hot to trot Gordon woos us all

Whiff of the dumped boyfriend about Gordon Brown. It's belatedly dawned on him that he's had it. We don't find him sexy. So he is showering us with chocolates and flowers. Or websites. The PM has decided he needs something cool to make us love him. We will all have a web page within four years. Oh Gordon, you are so HOT!

Imagine. Mum-in-law who cannot, ever, remember how to switch on her mobile, will have a web page so she can sort out her passport, driving licence and benefits. Everything she ever dreamed of, thanks to gorgeous Gordon. How thrilling!

We can trust Gordon with all of our secrets can't we? He would never reveal our deepest desires to anyone! No, he'll just leave the lot on a train for anyone to find. The scales have fallen, Gordon. We see you as you are - and it's not a pretty sight. No amount of loving us up will make you look good. We've deleted you as a friend - bye!

A light in the darkness

Sometimes, somewhere somebody shines a light on a bullshi...r and my heart soars. It's that Emperor moment when all is revealed for what is is - a pile of ignorant tripe. Such a moment dawned when Sanal Edamaruku told a mystic to do his worst and kill him on prime time telly. Shock waves throughout India! After all, this was a powerful tantric guru who claimed he could end life just by thinking about it.

"Go on then," said Sanal, head of the Indian Rationalists' Association. Much chanting,holy water and massaging later and Sanal is still with us. So the holy man says he has to sleep with a woman first and rub himself with ash - hopefully that way round. "Great," says Sanal. I'll wait. And he does and he is, still. Now the holy man says Sanal must be protected by the gods. So, as Sanal steps out in front of a bus...

Reminds me of one about tantric sex being like calling a plumber - you stay in all day and nobody comes. Shine a light, shine a light , as the song goes and keep your tosh to yourself.

Loose Women and the seriously bonkers

And another thing! Watched Loose Women on the box the other day. One off,it was a bit early for the news. They were flagging an item on ovarian cancer - The Silent Killer, they called it.

Well it stayed silent, because, you know what? They got all coy and started talking about Down Belows and "let's not go there!" How hugely pathetic is that? Reminds me of my first editor. He painted pants on pictures of toddlers they used in bath adverts. A two-year-old bottom would offend his readers. He went ballistic when we cheered on a couple of amourous dogs we spotted from the newsroom window.

Bob Gillespie, your heart was kind but sorry, you were seriously bonkers. Ditto Loose Women.

An ad too far - keep condoms off the box!

A lovely willie is a wonderful thing and certainly those of us of less than tender years have admired one or two in the past. But on telly? Condom ads are coming on before the 9pm watershed. Will it be cucumbers or courgettes, to save the feelings of the less generously endowed? Or all soft focus and breaking surf?

Frankly I've reached my limit. Tell those constipated ladies who lunch to button it, they can keep their remedies for the runs and their all day panty liners. How did women ever manage before tampons took over the TV? Bloating? WE DON"T WANT TO KNOW!

The power of the box drives it. Must improve sales. The latest demonstration of just how influenced we are comes in a French TV show where contestants had to administer electric shocks to anyone giving the wrong answer. It worked in Yale in the 60s and it worked again. Most people followed orders to inflict pain even when the actor pretending apparently dies. One woman said:"I was worried about the contestant but I didn't want to spoil the show." Nah, somebody screaming and dying is all part of the fun - let's not spoil it!

Brian Cox Wonder of the Universe

Total wonder of the universe - Brian Cox you're a star! Did you see him last night on BBC 2 getting all excited? This is a guy with a megamind and he's jumping around like a little lad shouting "How cool is that!" when a geyser blows in Iceland. Brian makes complex physics sound so easy even I can get my head around it.

He draws pictures in the sand and suddenly all is revealed. Never thought black holes could be such a turn-on, but there you are. Doesn't hurt that he is pretty with a cheeky grin, he's just not what you expect of a prof.

Seems he was once in a band too - so we have something in common! His was called Dare and there is a video on his website. His band is about as good as mine, so no need to rush out to buy the CD. Still, with a brain as big as a planet he won't be busking down the tube any day soon. Pity.

Kate Middleton and Four Dodgy MPs

Royal squeeze Kate Middleton is miffed at sneaky photographers taking pictures of her playing tennis. She was on holiday in Cornwall and they spotted her on the court on Christmas Day. Christmas Day! How hard-core is that to be slugging away with a raquet in the freezing cold while everyone else was scoffing chocs and getting sloshed. She's come away with £5,000 damages which she is giving to charity. Very nice, but she should be paying the snappers because frankly it's done her image no harm at all.

Don't you love those MPs who got hauled before the courts? The four of them wanted to dodge the dock and sit behind their lawyers instead. Chief Magistrate Timothy Workman told them to haul their sorry backsides into the place provided. What's good enough for the local hoodies is plenty good enough for them. Will this finally get the message across do you think? Doubt it.

Stop sucking and start blowing

Ever had to blow into the bag? A breathalyser that is. Seems people think there are all sorts of ways to beat it. Silly boy JPR Williams thought sucking pennies would work. Something about the copper. Well the one that jumped out in front of me at 3am one night as I was haring home from Wapping came within a whisper of a last breath. Bet his life flashed before him.

Two glasses of wine in, no point denying it. That was when time was called at 11p.m. so with luck... I think the copper was a tad disappointed, and he did deserve something for his fright, poor lamb. Sent me off with a warning to slow down and then probably nipped into the van for a stiff one himself.

Holding breath, blowing lightly and sucking pennies doesn't work. Neither does smiling brightly at the poor lad you almost delivered to eternity. If you are still out there, working the cold, empty nights devoid of life, a huge sorry from the madwoman who almost took yours.

Essex girls charity cases

Essex girls - what a laugh! What makes an Essex girl's eyes light up - a torch shone in her ear. Or the difference between an Essex girl and a supermarket trolley? The trolley has a mind of its own. Seems the ladies in white stilettos don't find it funny. They need a charity to help them cope. It's called the Essex Women's Advisory Group. I'll send the cheque off straight away.

Orphanages in Romania can wait. Haiti eat your heart out, charity begins in Chelmsford. The girls need help because they "crumble when people start putting them down for where they come from, " says Elizabeth Hart patron of the charity. Poor little dears are desperate.

Except that they're not, Essex girls are much better, brighter and feistier than that. Just like us Geordie girls. Or Scousers. We all get lip - and we smack it right back, big time. That's the fun. Is Cheryl Cole ashamed of her roots? No way, she's cashing in. Sling your charity, we don't need it!

Remember or Forget? The good and the bad

Have we not done enough for the two toe-rags who murdered Jamie Bulger? Sure they came from bad homes but enough has been spent on them since, with their new identities and permanent monitoring. Have you ever known a ten-year-old who would come within a million miles of doing what they did, dreadful backround or not? Now it seems one of them is back behind bars. It may be the best place for him. We can put our resources into helping children who are not getting one chance, let alone a second.


Good old Michael Foot and that donkey jacket. Great speaker and lovely man but the old boy will always be remembered for the warm coat he wore to lay poppies at the cenotaph. Likewise Maggie and her milk, Hezza and his helicopters, Edwina and her eggs and Wilson and his pipe. No one remembers that he started the Open University, only that he met the Beatles on telly. Don't suppose Harold is turning in his grave over that,probably because it's nice to be remembered at all.