Columns: The Alternative Oxford English Dictionary
The Cannonball Run - Executed in the lower Rad Cam by either sex (although usually the fellas it has to be said), when particularly bored or horny. A friend is required to affirm judgement. A lap of the library ensues, with a confused look on your face, so that anyone who does catch your eye thinks you're looking for a friend. In actual fact you're searching for a mate to rub rudies with, you naughty sailor. Almost inevitably the ones who you like the look of will be part of the......
Columns: Mummy, why?
1. How are Television Ratings calculated?
Columns: The Krapton Factor
Okay teams, eyes down, your starter for ten, shut up at the back, don't pick your nose.
Columns: Spot the difference
Columns: Marathon woman
Weeks to go 14 (v. gd); miles run 11 (v. bad); 8st 6 (optimistic estimate, as scales have sadly dropped down remote mineshaft); alcohol units 10 (NYE counts as last year, therefore does not count); blister update: none as yet; wolf whistles from members of public 0 (incredible, she says arrogantly).
Columns: Newsfight!
One thing that is fairly certain about the Festive Season in the modern age is its reinvention as a purely secular phenomena. Very few attend church on Christmas morning and even less consider the birth of Christ as they scoff down their first piece of chocolate money (which, by the way, is festive because...?). No, I now think that Christmas should be seen more as a celebration of Capitalism in its most crude form, rejoicing not in the birth of God's son on earth but rather the age of mass production. Take Santa Claus, disavowed of any religious undertones, replicated in shopping malls the world over to attract customers. Like saccharine-sweet little American girls we embrace the great big lard arse with tears in our eyes. We all know that the figure in the red and white suit was entirely a creation of a soft drinks company but we tell ourselves that it is the season of good will and corporate exploitation is such an ugly phrase. Perhaps I do now see the relevance of chocolate money.
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Columns: Spitting Bile
Sophie Ellis-Bextor: What crime did we commit, my friends, to deserve this? What unspeakable act of depravity warranted the appearance of this loathsome girl? I mean, what? Is this a joke? If so then it's about as funny as getting stuck in a lift with Lisa Tarbuck. That the girl looks like a rhombus is not her fault. Nor should she be blamed for her complete lack of talent (certainly not in a world where Pop Idols draws millions to their television screens like badly trained weasels). But given these two factors surely someone could have made her stop whining on the radio morning noon and night? A slap would do it, of that I'm certain. "I'm going to burn this god damn house right down" she raves. Not with the kind of badly-stored disco matches that you've got stuffed up your petticoat, you hatchet jawed loon. Bog off....