Goodbye Jonathan Ross. Hello...?

Just followed a lone balloon on a stick being blown a mile up Kentish Town High Road. Couldn't help but imagine some screaming child way back in Camden. Get used to disappointment kid. From the top of the bus it looked like a giant sperm desperately searching for an egg. Half expected someone to burst it, but even in these difficult times someone wouldn't be that cruel, surely....?

Whllst we're on the subject, what is the point of those blow-ey things that move leaves around the driveways of large houses by the gardening help? Even today, in high winds, I saw one being used for five minutes to absolutely no effect.

So Jonathan Ross is about to record his final BBC show tomorrow. They are going to need a new chat show, with an original and refreshing format. Something that's not been done before, with a wide appeal. But how would that work? And who on earth could possibly host such a programme?

Dry Am Kloot

I can feel trouble brewing with my local scary-eyed dry cleaner. One of my luxuries is taking five shirts to the laundry every couple of weeks. I've been using another dry cleaning shop slightly further away on my high street for the last couple of years because they are always friendly and do a good job with the clothes. But unfortunately this means passing the scary dry cleaner's shop to get there, which is fine when taking the garments in - but rather more awkward when returning with a flowing bundle of freshly laundered shirts.

I have tried crossing the street to put some distance between us, but usually tend to opt for the 'shoulder swap' when walking on the pavement as I pass, whereby I disguise the freshly laundered shirts by placing them on the blind side behind my body...

This morning, just after swapping the clothes hangers into my other hand, the scary dry cleaner emerged from his shop right in front of me, saw what I was doing and.... smiled the most 4-letter smile I think I have ever seen. Terrifying. Then he walked along behind me on the pavement until I made it back home, when he continued on his way. So now he knows where I live...

Loving the new I Am Kloot album. Seven albums in [kind of] and still a proper band. Having trouble with the new Divine Comedy though - I love his early records but feel he's now become a parody of what he did so well. As with Richard Hawley - love the early stuff, not so keen on the later crooning. Same with Rufus Wainwright... Is there a pattern emerging here? I tend to still like bands when I feel that I've discovered them and before everyone else does. Probably just jealousy on my behalf.

25 years since LiveAid... Lady Gaga wasn't even born then. How can that be right?

Vicars and Arts

Apologies for lack of blogs these last few days. No excuse. Been watching sport and dressing up as a vicar. Don't ask.

So apparently Steven Gerrard's wife doesn't have a sister. So why let the facts get in the way of a good story? Surely there's a few more gory details to emerge about the lack of any cohesive footballing teamwork? They think it's all over. It is now. 

Why is Holland also known as The Netherlands and the people who come from there are Dutch?

Been listening through the drum tracks for the new album. Next stage is to get my old mate Art to record his bass parts, which hopefully will be happening over the next month or so. In the meantime I'm running about like a headless chicken having said yes to 7 things I should have only said yes to 3 to. Does that sentence make sense?

Just suffered an awkward moment in front of strangers. Note to self; only ever make dodgy jokes to people who know you well enough to understand you are joking...