It was hot, my goodness it was hot over there. I was wandering along the beach at the southern resort of Paleochora, wearing just swimming shorts with my binoculars around neck, when I recognised the jizz (see blogs passim) of an interesting wader further along the shore. I was ambling gently towards it when a mighty wind sprung up from nowhere, whipping the sand into a maelstrom of exfoliating hate. Blinded by a combination of airborne particles and a foolish lack of glasses, I staggered on into the vortex for a while before eventually giving up the ghost and hunkering down to ride out the storm.
Eventually, the cruel wind abated. I rose gingerly to my knees, rubbed my eyes, and swiftly wished I'd kept them shut, because I found myself eyeball to, erm, eyeball with what can only be described as a shaven Teutonic vulva. In my blind panic I had stumbled into a German nudist colony.
And not just any old nudists. These ones were middle-aged, proud of their bits and militant. As I stood, I felt a dozen pairs of waspish eyes turn to stare at the Britisher pervert with the binoculars. I fear my pleas that I was following a probable Little Ringed Plover would almost certainly have fallen on deaf ears. Surrounded on all sides, there really was no way out. I'm ashamed to admit that I rather buckled under pressure. My only possible escape without a beating and a period of detention in a Greek jail was to hastily discard the bins and pretend I was one of the nob-out gang. A bit like Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, but with Germans rather than corpse-stealing aliens. So I tentatively dropped my drawers, all the while smiling weakly while desperately trying not to cop an accidental eyeful of wrinkled, sun-bronzed cock. I then turned and marched into the welcoming sea, with all the dignity I could muster.
The Germans were mollified, I was mortified.
Some mollified Germans, yesterday
One of the joys of publishing is the occasional opportunity to work puns, in-jokes and alliteration into headlines and crossheads. Editors and subeditors around the world compete to exhibit their mastery of this complex field, the industry's darkest art. The reason I mention this is because one of my favourite newspaper headlines of all time was spawned by an incident similar to the tale I've recounted above. A BBC cameraman trying to film rare bees on a beach got caught and arrested on suspicion of spying on some local naturists: the headline - Beeb Bee Sea Nudes. Majestic punning by The Mirror's subediting team.
Other favourites include Rhino-sore-arse (TV gladiator gets tattoo on his bottom), Super Cally go Ballistic, Celtic are Atrocious, Diniz in the Oven (racing driver Pedro's car catches fire), and the seminal Book Lack in Ongar (flood damage to a library in Essex). Funnily enough, I noticed another classic in the Metro on the Gatwick Express back from the airport. The story: publishers withhold copies of the new Harry Potter book from superstore prior to launch; the headline - Prisoner of Asda-ban.
Now that's genius.
Celebrity spots
Few and far between I'm afraid. Recent lifestyle changes mean I'm spending far less time huddled on street corners to escape the icy wind, with a corresponding fall in opportunities for bumping into Harry Enfield, Ian Hislop and my other regular celebrity stalkers. But there have been a few pearls among the gloom. Highlight of the 'summer' has been comedian Nick Frost outside Tescos, sporting a striking ginger beard. Turns out he'd grown this for his role in execrable BBC sitcom Hyperdrive. A sighting less worthy of mention was bequiffed film critic Mark Kermode (real name Mark Fairy), striding purposefully along Soho Street last week.
Kermode: purposeful
Recommendations
So the Happy Hammers survived in miraculous fashion, the clincher being victory away at Old Trafford, a truly ludicrous result. Sadly our linchpin, the talismanic Carlos Tevez, is off to Man Utd, but never mind - another season of Premiership struggle awaits. Or does it? The bookies have us as short as 4/1 (Paddy Power) to finish in the top six. You'd be mad to take that on after the season we've just had, but a fixture list of Man City (H), Birmingham (A) and Wigan (H) make Paddy Power's 20/1 on West Ham to be top come the end of August a sound investment. I'll also be piling onto the 9/4 Coral are offering for poor old Derby to finish bottom. Almost certain to be hopelessly out of their depth - you're in with the big boys now.
I've finally recovered from the mauling I took on the Ashes last year, and I feel ready to dip a tentative toe back into the muddy waters of cricketing bets. I was impressed with the Indians in the First Test - lucky not to lose they may have been, but their attack is nothing like as toothless as many predicted. I reckon they'll win one of the remaining tests, and Betdirect's 6/1 for the series to end 1-1 is tempting.
The modern marvel that is MySpace. I've been enjoying some mellow French trip-hop. And you should too - give Cyesm a go, who is kindly giving away an album to download.
