I've developed a passion for hot cheese sandwiches. Nothing fancy, just two slices of bread with a slice of cheese in-between, heated in a microwave until the smell becomes too fantastic to ignore. For those who want to try this at home, please ask a grown up. I got away with it but it could have have all ended in irradiated tears.

I know it's safe to eat because there's no burger in it. How could anyone get fat on cheese? There are people who might insist that a true gourmet would add an extra ingredient or two, but for me that takes away the purity of the experience. Wallace & Grommit have shown us the path to culinary enlightenment.

Why do I like this simple dish so much? My suspicion is for much the same reason cheese has taken over almost the entire american-speaking world, but then, we get real cheese here in England, and who could possibly resist that?

My Old Flame

Having polished off the last hot cheese sandwich and bored my neighbours with incessant guitar riffs, I resorted to television last night, and thankfully the success of Top Gear means there's always a repeat showing on one channel or another. Come on guys, make another one.

The episode I caught was the one where they celebrated Lamborghini's fortieth birthday. Featured was that epitome of automotive sex, the Muira. Please excuse me for a moment, I might need to change my underwear...

...Okay, I'm back. Now where was I? Oh yes, the Muira....

....Heck, my laundry bill is growing. But seriously, what a superb and sensuous sixties icon. I first discovered this car as a dinky toy in the local post office. My mother had unsuspectedly taken me along as she did some adult stuff across the counter but my immature childhood mind was stunned, shocked, and enlightened by the extraordinary model car that outshone everything else. From that moment on, my life would never be ordinary. I had seen the shape of things to lust over.

How could anyone possibly resist that?

Enjoy It While You Can

Having upset the blog-reading world by a soul destroying review of Stargazing Live the other day, I have to eat my own words, because the program revealed the shocking fact that an object is approaching Earth. No-one knows what it is, but's heading this way, and just in time for conspiracy theorists to lose themselves in an orgy of smugness at the possiblity that Hollywood had been right all along and 2012 really is the big event the Mayans always said it would be.

Trouble is, the speed, mass, and energy of these interstellar missiles is mind-boggling. The dinosaurs probably roared a lot ineffectually before they were wiped out by the explosion and it's aftermath, abd even ourselves, with mighty atomic weapons and red buttons to press are hugely optimistic about deflecting these things without Bruce Willis to guide them. A shame, because the effects of a collision between a large object and earth are going to need more than a russian survival pod to resist.

See? I can do it too. Sack brian Cox, and put me on television. Infotainment while you wait. Not only that, but the Department of Work & Pensions will finally be able to breathe a sigh a relief as I stop charging the government thousands of pounds to keep a roof over my head.