Every year since 1974, when I was 11, my father has bought me a copy of Wisden Cricketers' Almanack for my birthday.
I have always liked Pozzo's speech in Waiting for Godot when he says that the tears of the world are a constant quantity, and that for each person who begins to weep, another one stops.
Here's a dinner for two with 1970s sophistication but modern-day products and prices: to start, a couple of prawn cocktails at £2.09 each; to follow, a brace of 8oz fillet steaks weighing in at £12.47.
"Ark!" We have a new resident at the Hovel: a fledgling seagull, who presumably fell out of the nest on the roof.
Winehouse was never interested in the normal rules of female celebrity.
People are starving to death in eastern Africa - lots of them, and horribly. I awoke this morning to hear on the radio a report from a BBC man who had interviewed some of those streaming towards a UN-run camp.
I was meeting up with someone I worked with, ooh, getting on for 20 years ago and whom I hadn't seen for pushing 15. I was coming from Manchester; she from Soho, London.
Nathan Myhrvold was Stephen Hawking's researcher and Bill Gates's right-hand man at Microsoft. Now, he aims to reinvent the cookbook.
Birds Eye sold £7.5m worth of its Traditional Chicken Dinners last accounting year - and as these meals are made in the Republic of Ireland with imported chicken breast, "homestyle" gravy, potatoes and garden vegetables, I can
Tennis is not what it was. Now it's all about branding and the annual disappointment of Andy Murray. (Oh, Murray.
Evgeny Lebedev, son of a billionaire, owns newspapers, restaurants and a mansion near London. He bel
“Keeping a pig is great but Monster Munch are nice as well”
Another week has flown by and it's Sunday again. Not just any Sunday, though: Father's Day.
How British social history is written through our cookbooks.
Let's get to the point. Are there any lesbian bloggers out there who aren't straight, middle-aged, American men?
Sex is not the problem. Sexism is. Arbitrary moral divisions are being renewed between "innocent" women and "sluts".
A Sunday afternoon, and I am listening to Ligeti and wondering whether it was entirely wise of me to have invited the editor of this magazine for dinner.
My birthday. I have now reached the age Goebbels was when he died, although my achievements are fewer. And, thankfully, not in the same line. Still.
Are sex and shopping really the worst problems facing the nation's children?
Not much doubt about the big news of the past couple of weeks: there are a dozen new words allowed in Scrabble.
Good afternoon. I'm glad you were all able to join me here for a brief presentation on some of the key issues that will be affecting us in the medium term.
“Sucking the heads off prawns is one of life’s great pleasures”
Unless you're Osama Bin Laden, it hasn't been a great time to die of late, if you wanted the press to report it to the nation.
There's a reason so many writers drink and smoke
I hadn't intended to be co-opted on to a royal street party planning committee. But this is what happens if you live in a small village.
Yuppie flu: the psychosomatic excuse of indolent, middle-class skivers, or a real disease? Chronic fatigue syndrome, or myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME), continues to blight millions, but what is it?
“From one queen to another. Oh, I’ve written my own headline”
Public hysteria over Kate, Wills and the royal wedding is another kind of crowd madness, writes Will
I'm in Melbourne, along with half the world's funnymen and funnywomen and a few people passing themselves off as those things. We're all being outsold, though, by a ferocious opponent, in the form of a 3,300-year-old man.