Return of the hack

Well, I'm back. Sadly I've been working far too hard knocking a book on the natural wonders of the Arctic into shape, and simply haven't had time to bash out my usual weekly stream of nonsense. Sorry about that.

You haven't missed much. Just the usual round of bookish toil, commuter trouble and long and exhausting lunches. Though I did learn how to cook Prawn Pasanda last week, that was jolly. At the Bengal Cuisine restaurant in Brick Lane. You don a fetching sailor's hat (for 'hygiene' purposes - if I had hair long enough to dangle in curry I'd still be dancing with joy now), then go down into the tiny kitchen (staffed by tiny Bangladeshi cooks) where the head chef shows you how to make your main course. Then you go and eat it. Great fun.

But anyway just a catch up for now (as I have to pay the bills somehow), with a return to more traditional drawing-room comedy soon.


Celebrity spots
Some serious celebrity stalking since last we spoke. Where to start? Well, last week I was walking towards Soho Square when I found Paul Whitehouse and - with a degree of inevitability - Harry Enfield causing an obstruction on the public highway, smoking. Fine - so far, so familiar. But things took a sinister turn when I wandered into Eat, the sandwich shop, only to find the two ageing funnymen had followed me in there. Though this does allow me to tell you what they had - Whitehouse went for the tuna baguette, while Enfield plumped controversially for the cream-of-corn soup.

Other comedy spots include a sulky Jack Dee in the Glasshouse pub two tuesdays ago, and I somehow managed to stop myself from smacking unpleasant smug unfunny twat John Sessions in the chops as he strode past the office later in the week - I'm delighted to tell you that Sessions is now grey and fat.


Sessions: face you want to slap



A wander to the paper shop last week yielded rich dividends, as I brushed past a beaming Sir Trevor Brooking who had just been to buy a sandwich and was heading back to the FA. Maybe I should mention that Brooking is my all-time favourite player and is 95% of the reason why I ended up supporting West Ham (so perhaps I should have smacked him in the chops instead).

But despite the Brooking sighting the pick of the month took place last thursday, and for once it was well away from the usual celebrity haunts. Forgive me because its a bit obscure, but I was delighted to see former Grange Hill hearthrob René Zagger stumbling out of The White Horse in Woodford, complete with token blond on arm. A quick Google reminds me that Zagger went on to greater fame as some copper on The Bill.


Zagger: prefers blondes



'Road to Wembley' latest
Well the road to Wembley is over for another year. Plymouth Argyle's defeat in front of the BBC cameras at home to Watford in the quarters saw to that. But Berman and Babbs did find fleeting fame along the way - check out their appearance in the Argyle programme. Click on the image to read more.




Berman and Babbs: not necessarily in that order



Hare Krishna conversational ice-breaker of the week
Another humdinger on Oxford Street last week.

"Hi there! You look very strong!"

Again, words failed me.


Recommendations
Well, who would have thought it? The West Ham comeback has begun, about six months too late. Victory away at Arsenal last week was surely the most ridiculous result of the season. And now suddenly we're three points from safety. The bookies have adapted to our change in fortunes as you'd expect, and we are now 'only' 1/2 to drop to the second tier (Totesport). The thing is, we really do deserve to go down. We're shit.

Anyway, I missed out on passing on my wisdom on the US Masters - surely the finest golf tournament in the world. Never mind. I didn't pick the winner, some anonymous American called Zach Johnson, so you'd have lost your money anyway. Everyone's had a result there. But I've got horse-racing fever, because I'm going next weekend to Chepstow, and next saturday is Grand National day, of course. I recommend Hedgehunter at 14/1 (various).

In other bets, well the French stormed to victory in the Five Nations, and it would have been a magnificent double had the Scots not been so feeble. Never mind. I'm afraid I haven't a clue who won Comic Relief does Fame Academy, only I know it wasn't my 10/1 pick Colin Murray (on whose elimination all interest in this tepid trash naturally evaporated).

Try LCD Soundsystem. I did and it changed my life.