My Caramba

It's Monday morning and there's an awful lot happening in the U.K. this week, from rail strikes to critical by elections, and not overlooking the #CarrieGate story, or Schrodinger's scandal as would be more accurate after Simon Walters revealed in the Times over the weekend that in 2018 Boris Johnson tried to recruit his then mistress, Carrie Symonds to a 100k a year advisory role reporting to him as Foreign Secretary while his wife underwent treatment for cervical cancer, only for the story to be pulled from the Times second edition, and then to disappear from the Daily Mail online. Whilst this isn't on today's menu for a deeper dive, it was of course a topic that Rachel Johnson avoided raising with Nadine Dorries during last night's LBC 'third summer of love' style interview should anybody have taken time out of their Sunday evening to endure an hour of two women pretty much stroking Boris's thighs while dropping numerous toxic hand grenades at the...

With a fair wind, and barring of course any injury time capitulation I'll be marking 5 years since I walked through the door of a drug and alcohol rehab that had been carefully selected by my friends and family based on the one I was least likely to walk out of and instead continue to make myself very very poorly. They chose well, and I knew the party was well and truly over. Fear not however as this isn't about me grandstanding my war stories from when I was a cocaine and alcohol force of nature, a truth I used to be shamelessly proud of. I spent a decade thinking I was having the time of my life, and only after what was to be my last hangover finally lifted did I actually start paying any attention to real world issues. Things that didn't occur to me or that perhaps had never even come across my radar suddenly quirked my interest. In truth, my sole purpose in life for most of the previous ten years had been about me widening my circle of partygoing friends, and self-medic...