The documentary was brilliant. Next up is a 'proper' movie and it looks great. Fingers crossed for a NYC screening in a couple of weeks. Just last weekend we spent a pleasant hour on Southport pier overlooking the skatepark watching the tricksters pretend they were on Jackass. Empty swimming pools often feature in my dreams.



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Today is the second day in a row I’ve had Liquorice Allsorts (created by accident in 1899) and Fanta Z for breakfast. There aren’t enough of the round coconut ones in the bag for my liking. I don’t eat the beady aniseed ones so I’ve strung them all together and made a necklace which I’m going to put on ebay and try to sell as a Zandra Rhodes piece. I tried Fruit Allsorts a few weeks ago during a car journey to Blackpool and they were lovely (the beady ones in that bag were eaten as they tasted like fruit pastilles). I don’t like the bloke on the Allsorts TV ad. He’s a bit like the annoying know-it-all that every office has. Bertie Basset should ditch that tosser and get together with June Whitfield (above). She’d be great selling Liquorice Allsorts. Actually, she’d be great selling anything (bombs, cigarettes, Burberry, super-strong lager, Cillit Bang). She has such a trustworthy face and could easily fill the void left by the sad death of stair-lift queen Thora Hird (below).
Did you know that Jelly babies were created to celebrate the end of WW1 in 1918 and that until 1953 they were called 'Peace Babies'?