Last night we watched a documentary on Saki. I haven't read any Saki for 25 years and the Complete Saki is waiting for me in the bedroom as soon as I've finished the Complete Sherlock Holmes and the Complete MR James Short Stories - bloody hell so that means I'll be reading it in 2012 then.
After Saki, we watched Ruddy Hell! It's Harry and Paul which forces the odd laugh from our miserable mouths.
After Ruddy Hell! It's Harry and Paul, we watched the majority of Greg Rusedski's interview on Jonathan Ross. Wossy likes to think he's a tennis player as do a lot of these rich celebrities with nothing but time on their hands and money in every orifice. Well let me tell you, if I had as much time and money I would thrash Wossy and his mate Cliff Richard with one hand tied behind my back. You can't buy talent, matey.
After Greg Rusedski, we watched a bit of Later With Jools. We were beginning to fall asleep as Tinariwen strutted their stuff and Betty continued to sleep for the next hour.
I woke up in the middle of a fascinating Snooker World Championship Semi Final between John Higgins and Stephen Maguire. These guys nowadays certainly know how to sink their balls. As with the tennis, however, the personality seems to have gone out of the sport. Higgins and Maguire are efficient machines. Yes, the nerves are there but none of the excitement.
I once saw Graham Miles play an exhibition frame at a Warners holiday camp. The sexual tension was there for us all to see as he almost humped the baize in his tight trousers, the light from above glinting on his balding pate. It was a religious experience for me and for the next week I wanted to be a snooker player when I grew up with all the glamour that entailed.
Graham Miles (left) - for MJ
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