Diplomatic corpse


The Queen hosted a state banquet with King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia today and eagle-eyed Jeana caught her feelings about this on camera.

Clearly “up for the cup” would not be the best description of her feelings about the ensuing lunch.

Maybe she’s been spending too much time with Pheelip.

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Would you buy a Chicken Chasseure off these men?


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Four of the handsomest chefs on the planet cooked a three course meal (with three or four choices per course) for 60 of the ladies of Holy Cross Parish on Saturday. Given that I was at it from 10 am to 11pm the day after the hedonistic Scottish Advertising Awards it made for a tough gig.

My dad did it for years, so I took his place this year.

But we made at least £500 profit for charity so can’t really complain.

At least we looked good.

Nae. Great!

The big HBO cheat


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I thought HBO was the real deal.

But, the more I think about it and hear other opinion I realise I am not alone in questioning the ending of The Sopranos. It is so open for James Gandolfino to have a change of mind and come back at ANY time in the next ten years or so, that it questions the integrity of the show that was a US TV institution.

All it would take to bring it back would be a quick recap of the last 2 minutes of last night’s programme – the assumed killer who decamped to the lavvy comes out and proves to be nothing other than a dodgy looking guy in need of a pee.

Half the cast is dead by now of course so that, on the plus side, solves a few continuity problems, but on the other means we need a new cast.

But, hey, it’s mafia – it happens.

So, here we go. Episode 1 series seven, 2015.

Quick catch up (in black and white, of course, of the last 8 years) and HBO are back on the go.

Workin’ for the Yankee dollar.

(Don’t do it Jamesy.

Screw their plan.)

 

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