Home! Nearly three bloody hours.

Alien style.

Check out the small brain on Thaad.

I’ve just been blessed with….five way temporary traffic lights.

I’m dying for a piss.

Two hours and six minutes into my commute home.

We have crossed The Great West Road. Many miles lay ahead, but at least I’m on my last leg of the journey.

The Pogues - Orca’s Novena.

Funky Cold Medina.

Someone thought so.

Extremely brief, one would imagine.

My favourite ones are the, “Showing people at work unknowingly making major Health and Safety violations.” Stock photos.

Very popular in trades apparently.

Ha ha. Perfect opportunity.

You just walk up to him, all serious, and sing,

“You sexy muthafucker.”

And then walk off. Now he has the problem, and yours is sorted.

Brian Cant was Fern Britton’s brother in law.

I just find that weird.

I read Simon Sebag-Montefiore’s book on the Romanovs, and, with a few exceptions, every Russian Tsar had a screw lose.

Oh, and you definitely did not want to be Tsar Fyodor, that’s for damned sure.

He’s manoeuvring like Warspite in the fjords.

I believe this one, and not because I had a huge bet on New Zealand at 7/2.

Not as suspicious as Cass Elliot and Keith Moon both dying at age 32 in Harry Nilsson’s Mayfair flat.

What were you up to Harry?

Once a grass, always a grass.

The Curia is the Supreme Court, in case anyone was wondering, as I was.

Garden party held today
Call the debs out to play
Social climbers polish ladders
Wayward sons again have fathers.

William Gull or Walter Sickert, or, God forbid, Vincent Van Gogh wasn’t Jack The Ripper.

It was Bram Stoker.

(Or someone else who happened to be living in London at the time, pick one out of 5.5 million.

You didn’t say it had to be a good conspiracy theory.)

“I’ve got some bitchin’ vibes for y’all. Jubbly.”

I was watching Rob Hall describing the original Battlestar Galactica, and he called Dirk Benedict’s Starbuck a “Paper thin manwhore.”

For some reason this felt relevant.

Really? You know, I’m not.

Don’t watch the news ever. They have death on that every day.

Oh look, an ad break.

Defending it? It is a broad spectrum

True crime is like any other media, some of it is well researched and presented. Some of it is National Enquirier levels of horseshit

It’s like everything else in the media, you hope that the people who consume it are discerning about who they choose to watch

The stuff I’ve watched has had some fairly obvious examples of police incompetence.

It’s not as if that’s unique to America, watch anything about The Yorkshire Ripper or Karla Homolka, and you’d wonder how cops all around the world ever manage to catch any murderers at all.

I love true crime, the better told stuff.

I think the difference is that the vast majority of it is about things that happen in America, and if you don’t live there, it doesn’t affect you in the same way.

America to people in Europe is the place where anything can happen, and usually does.

Joe, get the shovel.