One of the several rambling, funny tales James Yorkston tells tonight has him bumping into an old acquaintance he hasn't seen for years who, worried he's looking "a bit rough", enquires if he has a job these days. Yorkston, considering his wandering singer's life, allows him to think he's unemployed, just scraping by. He's offered a house-painting job, but can't make it as, dressed in the clothes that had him tagged as destitute, he's playing this gig.
There continues to be only one story in town. i’s mailbox tells me how engaged with and passionate about the phone-hacking saga most of our readers are (Geoff Humphries of Cambridge may “want to switch off” when he sees the word “hacking”, but he is in a tiny minority).
Forget the cheap stuff at the back of the newsagent’s fridge, well-made scrumpy can compete with the best craft beers, as this sharp bunch proves...
When I was a teenager, my elders used to intone that youth is wasted on the young, and I never had a clue what they meant. Youth was pretty much the only perk of being too young to drive a car, too young to earn money, too young to realise that boys who don't like you back are not interesting and poetic, merely tiresome. The least you deserve, when you feel like the world is plotting against you and that only Morrissey understands your torment, is springy joints and radiant skin.
Sales of Magners cider returned to growth in Britain for the first time in three years, its maker C&C said yesterday. The recovery contributed to a 29.4 per cent rise in C&C's half-year earnings from continuing operations, to €63.4m (£55.2m).
Trundling along to buy a lunchtime sandwich the other day, admiring the floral bedding in my local park in Ealing, I spotted a little sign: "Pop-up Kitchen Garden". Now, we've heard of pop-up shops, restaurants and art galleries, but a pop-up vegetable garden? Exploring a little further, I found that a set of kitchen garden beds, neatly edged in wood, had materialised out of nowhere. It was a gorgeous surprise.
Simon Calder explores this modestly beautiful county, from the River Wye to the cider trail
London advertising has few gods. David Abbott is one of them – a genius, a legend, a gentleman. A creative icon and a man whose legacy still infuses and enthuses adland, Abbott is quite possibly the best copywriter that we have ever had.