The Divine Atkinson

Finally caught up with the full Archbishop vid yesterday.  Apparently the fuss was over him using the word ‘shag’ before the watershed, and it wasn’t the C of E who complained, but members of the public.  So now we know.  And what did I think of it?  Well, normally I think Atkinson is God: in comedic terms, there is nothing he can’t do.  However this was perhaps not his finest hour; a tad vitriolic, I thought – but still, offensive?


Here it is:

On the plus side, I watched the edited highlights of Comic Relief and donated a few quid, enough for a mosquito net, or so I’m told.  So that’s something.  You can donate here:

I hate taking steroids.  I haven’t taken any for decades and would have wished to avoid it now, but when leaving one room and entering another leaves you short of breath – well, needs must.  But last night I couldn’t sleep; I feel continually hungry and I’m sure I got angrier with Holly last night than I would otherwise have done – and I’m fairly certain these are all side-effects of the dreaded S.


Quite apart from Comic Relief, the weather is having a laugh.  No-one else is finding it funny, but I’m sure there has to be a poem in there somewhere.  Daniel wrote a poem at college yesterday; I thought it was pretty good.  I don’t have permission to put it on here but I’ll ask.

Sorry it’s a short post this morning.  I’m not really myself at the moment.

Kirk out


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