Wednesday, 13 May 2026

A Petri-dish with hot tubs and a climbing wall

All that positive hantavirus publicity got you thinking of booking a cruise? Before you set sail like a carefree, ocean-going Zack Polanski, consider these reasons not to:

The passengers
You’re trapped with them. Vacuous, boring bastards in pink polo shirts with wives in their 50s made up to be in their 20s. There’s no escaping the twat who’s immensely proud of setting up the most successful tyre supply business in East Renfrewshire, not on this trip, and keelhauling is sadly outlawed.

The food
Food is included in the price, or the permanent buffet of shite in the prison-like canteen is. They make it as tasteless as possible to drive you to pay for meals in the very costly restaurants. And if you want a drink? You’ll be ordering it from the barman on every single occasion you need liquid. Yes, there will be a queue.

The entertainment
No entertainer worthy of the name would sign up for three months in a windowless cabin at sea. Plenty of entertainers not worthy of the name will. Given an audience of tossers who believe an Elvis impersonator who can instantly switch to Robbie Williams is astonishing, they will pander to them. Night after night. And you’ll be there because that’s where the gin is.

Seasickness
Seas get rough, and once your lavishly-appointed ship runs into a storm and begins lurching around like a drunken hippo with labyrinthitis everyone will be throwing up. You’ll be confined to your cabin and timing vomiting to when the toilet isn’t slopping water all over the bathroom floor you’re kneeling on.

Viruses
And that’s when the metal container you’re locked in with thousands of strangers doesn’t become an incubator for an exciting new virus, keen to work its magic in this Petri-dish with hot tubs and a climbing wall. All while many, many nautical miles from the nearest hospital. You begin to realise why ghost ships were such a frequent phenomenon.

The stops on land
After what feels like months trapped at sea but has actually been three days, you get the chance to escape. Bliss. Three hours in the most touristy harbours the world has to offer, where every shop is geared to selling you expensive jewellery you won’t notice the flaws of until you’re back on board your floating prison with that twat from the tyre business again.

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Tuesday, 12 May 2026

Swinging!


Scilla peruviana (again) - on full breathtaking display [click to embiggen]

The first sunny day since we've been back, and it was inevitable that I'd spend it in the extensive gardens here at Dolores Delargo Towers! We now have two sets of display shelves - and each needed a bit of propping-up to avoid them shifting on our uneven, sloping paving, so all the pots needed to come off. Then came the job of gathering up the plants again (and more), to arrange them on and around the shelving for maximum display and to disguise the edges. At each turn, the crud and litter (mainly from the bastard weed trees) had to be cleared [as did the pots/troughs of spent daffs and the dead wallflowers and tulips, to be replaced with the foxgloves, the first of which I potted-up] - and several plants needed potting on/refreshed compost as I went along. Needless to say, I'm aching...

What finer tonic could there be after all that, than a trip into the heart of Swinging Soho - courtesy of the ever-marvellous Soft Tempo Lounge?

Ah, that's better.

[Music: Polish Radio Orchestra - My Girl, Suzy; Original film: Swinging Britain in the 60s: A Psychedelic Dream (1967) - British Pathé]

Monday, 11 May 2026

Did you miss me?

Yes, we're back in miserable, dank Blighty, after a wonderful week in the blazing sunshine of Benalmadena. Great friends, great food, booze, totty-spotting, banter, booze, lots of laughs, nights out in the sleazy environs of La Nogilera in Torremolinos and booze - business as usual, really!

Our journey out was knackering: only a meagre amount of sleep, and a taxi at 2.30am to catch a flight from Gatwick at the crack'o'doom - so much so that we didn't even go out on Saturday night - and our journey home from Luton airport was marred by the fact that there were no trains to London, so we ended up on a coach transfer to some god-forsaken hole (Hitchin) to get a connection. At least that train got us straight to Finsbury Park (nearer home than Kings Cross) - but there was no Piccadilly Line either, so we had to get a cab... None of that matters, of course, when the bit in the middle was such a joy!

But - what did we miss while we were on our week of hedonism? Well, there was a massive furore over that plague ship that needed to be evacuated after several passengers died of a Medieval disease; and it was a local elections wipeout for Labour, which has put PM Kier Starmer at risk of being ousted. Then there was the glittering Met Gala (now sponsored by the Google mafia Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez), the important scientific discovery that beer is good for you as it contains vitamins, the departure of Ted Turner for that great 24-hour-television-channel-in-the-sky - and the man who pulled a car using his penis, while on fire [I'm not making this up, you know]!

We also missed celebrating the 90th birthday of Engelbert Humperdinck, the 85th of Earth, Wind and Fire co-founder Philip Bailey, the 80ths of Sir David Suchet and Thelma Houston (and what would have been the 80th of Lesley Gore), the - gulp - 65ths of Jay Aston from Bucks Fizz and George Clooney...

...and Sir David Attenborough's 100th birthday!

But did we bring anything back for your delectation, dear reader?

This being a Tacky Music Monday, it could only be Spain's answer to Dame Shirl, the late, great Señorita Rocío Jurado, at her big-haired, OTT best!

Is it good to be back?

NO!

Saturday, 2 May 2026

El ritmo de la noche, sounds of fiesta

By the time you read this, dear reader - if ever you do, given yesterday's debacle - we should (hopefully) be just about landing in Malaga for another week of hedonism...

Here's a little variation on our usual theme of Vamos a la Playa to keep you entertained:

"Normal" service will be resumed, with any luck, in a week's time...

Friday, 1 May 2026

You and me can dance so free


Our Scilla peruviana ("Portuguese Squill") is stunning. [click to embiggen]

"Hooray, hooray, the first of May! Outdoor sex begins today."

In the extensive gardens here at Dolores Delargo Towers, the daffs, tulips and primulas - as well as the cherry and apple blossoms in the neighbourhood - are over. The air is now scented with the intoxicating perfume of lilacs, jasmine, rowan and the last of the wallflowers. How does one adequately encapsulate the scents of Spring? The combination is simply divine.

To add to the uplifting mood, I'm counting down to the end of a particularly gruelling week - and tomorrow we're up in the deathly hours in order to get a taxi to Gatwick Airport, to catch our flight to Spain for a week's much-needed holiday! I have never needed a holiday this much [since the last one, of course 😎]!

Let's have something suitably Spanish to get the celebrations going, shall we - and who could be more appropriate than our Patron Saint of Plastic, Charo?!

¡Gracias Disco Es viernes!

Have a great weekend, dear reader! We intend to.


STOP PRESS:

I don't know when - or even if - you will actually see this, dear reader, but I timed it to publish at 7.30am...and it is now 6.30pm and it still hasn't shown up! I hate the Google gnomes.

Thursday, 30 April 2026

Of zoos, spider-divas, Southbank, salamanders, Cloris, dead beef, He-Man and 4 Non Blondes


A new Banksy artwork appeared overnight this week in the middle of St. James' in Mayfair, depicting a flag-bearing man, blinded by its material, about to fall off the edge of the plinth. [click any pic to embiggen]

It's another snippets post, dear reader:

  • Makes you proud to be British news: It's the 75th anniversary of The Festival of Britain on 3rd May - and the Southbank Centre is launching a whole season of events to celebrate, involving some of the UK's greatest artistic talents such as Danny Boyle, Gareth Pugh, Anish Kapoor, Max Richter, Jacqueline Wilson and Quentin Blake, and international artists including Angelique Kidjo, Yuja Wang, and a West-Indian Steel Band Weekender!
  • "You say Axolotl, I say what the fuck?" news: A critically endangered amphibian [that lives only in Lake Xochimilco near Mexico City in the wild], an axolotl salamander about the size of a domestic cat(!) was discovered by a young girl - living in a brook at Merthyr Mawr near Bridgend, South Wales! I wonder what the Welsh translation of "bloody enormous exotic amphibian" might sound like?

  • And finally: RIP Roger Sweet, creator of "He-Man" for Mattel [before the animated series]. That gives me the perfect excuse to revisit THIS:

And I say, hey yeah yeah, hey yeah yeah
I said hey, what's going on?

Indeed. It's a mindfuck...

And the weather? Utterly glorious!

Wednesday, 29 April 2026

They drive an ice-cream van

Sharing the day with another panoply of "names" including Zizi Jeanmaire, William Randolph Hearst, Sir Thomas Beecham, Duke Ellington, Sir Daniel Day-Lewis, Leslie Jordan, Jeremy Thorpe, Uma Thurman, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Celeste Holm, Emperor Hirohito, Tammi Terrell, Andre Agassi, Lonnie Donegan, April Stevens, Baron Jacob Rothschild, Toots Thielemans, Professor Heinz Wolff, conductor Zubin Mehta (who is 90), Willie Nelson, Tommy James of The Shondells, Rod McKuen, Jerry Seinfeld, Jo O'Meara of S-Club 7 and - erm - Bernie Madoff...

...it's Bill Drummond's birthday today. Who? I hear you ask...

He was, of course, the co-founder of that most wonderfully loopy of late 80s/early 90s electro rave combos, The KLF!

I need no more perfect excuse (as if I would need one) to play this, their most completely off-the-wall hit that resurrected the career of a forgotten diva. I love it!

There never was anything like it before, and I very much doubt there'll ever be anything like it again.