Even though I don't watch bollocks like BGT, even I still know that it was won by a dog over the weekend. It would seem alas that the one thing that Britain actually is rather short of is talent. The pinnacle of British talent at the moment appears to be a fuckin dog called Pudsey. Proof, were it needed, that this country most definitely has gone to the dogs. You two leggeds must be simply bursting with humanoid pride this morning. I could of course suggest that Pudsey isn't the first dog to win a major British TV talent show, but that would be unkind on Susan Boyle so I won't even got there. Now it's only a matter of time before Simon Cowell is romantically linked with Pudsey, we all know that. I use the word "romantically" in the loosest possible sense of course. Followed by the sordid revelations in the Sun. "Pudsey: My five times a night Bonio shame." All we have to do now is sit tight and wait for the album to come out. Pooh count: two. Like Cowell himself, and Pudsey's new single, both were shit.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.