To Leicester. My geographical ignorance is so shocking that I have to go to Google Maps to find out where it is. It turns out to be almost smack in the middle of England. I really should know this.
The sun is shining as I write, but I have learned not to trust it. As soon as I step outside, it will start raining. This generally seems to have been the pattern of things for the past couple of years.
Recently, Britney Spears got into trouble for miming her way through shows. She'd sold her tour as a live performance, when in fact the songs are
“Ooohh." A noise goes up from the crowd of big kids looking at the shiny red sports car. The car is parked on a raised dais and a man with a microphone attached to his head stands next to it.
Good old Shirley. Just when you thought the glittery dresses and James Bond theme tunes might be on the wane, out she marches with an album full of new songs.
Take a deep breath. It's time to talk about stress. And the one thing we can't do is get stressed about it. But, oddly, as soon as I even think about stress, I feel stressed. Even the word is stressful.
A pledge to renationalise the railways would be a clear vote-winner. So why do passengers’ demands f
An invitation to the countryside from C -- , who is actually an ex from my university days but has become a good friend again, even though she reads the Daily Mail. (I suppose it cuts both ways.
Trends in poverty and inequality since Labour came to power in 1997 fall neatly into three stages. In Labour's first term, there was growth in income of over 3 per cent each year after inflation for the median household.
As she scans my Chilean red wine, I notice that the woman on the checkout has eaten the quick from her fingernails.
In the run-up to next year’s general election, poverty is back at the heart of political debate. In
Starbucks coffee is so bad I'll happily walk several blocks just to avoid drinking the stuff
The entrepreneur discusses his philanthropy and anti-smoking campaigning
Legalising all drugs would raise billions in revenue
Recently, I met a self-proclaimed bibliophile who, having hit his forties, had decided to "reread Dickens". I feigned admiration, but my real emotion was closer to bafflement.
All of the cheese and most of the onion land on my groin. I curse. The motorway has been clogged all the way from London. I've driven less than 100 miles in two hours.
Pop star, actress, care worker for the elderly. This, it seems, will be the professional trajectory of Noriko Sakai, the Japanese starlet who has been on trial in a Tokyo courtroom for drug use and possession.
As the jobless count continues to rise, it has been predicted that bank bonuses could reach £6bn. Is this the sign of recovery, or is there an alternative?
God damn it, another hole in my shoe. Remember that bit where Withnail complains that he's nearly 30 and the sole's flapping off his shoe?
Recycling and low-energy light bulbs won't suffice in the battle against my elephantine footprint
Stewart is a man of action and a man of letters of a kind you no longer find in British politics
To the dentist. First with my eldest son, who has been complaining of pains that are like toothache, but are not exactly toothache.
We're in a public park on a sunny day. All is pretty much as good as it could be. We live in what is still a wealthy country, and it isn't raining.
The inconsiderate use of mobile phones is a form of collective madness
I'm a celebrity. You might not realise it yet. You might have me down more as a funnyman of moderate repute.
“We’re right at the end of the time when we can still do something”
So, to sum up the past few weeks of pontificating by Gordon and George: "GET A JOB!" Yes, there were "policies" and "vision", but there was also
"Well, that's what happens when you have three Weetabix for your breakfast." So said the Sky News anchor as the camera cut back to her after Adam Boulton's interview with the Prime Mini
You may think - if you're a woman with a full-time job - that your career is a way of paying the bills. Perhaps you even think you enjoy it.