Zeit shite

The Mail on Sunday looks like being successful and the Daily Express looks like it will fail in their respective campaigns against and for, respectively, double summertime. That's where the clocks go forward two hours this summer and was cleverly named 'Berlin Time' by the Mail who formed an unlikely alliance with Scottish farmers to campaign against it.
Interestingly, The Times was among those favouring the move to bring us in line with European time. The Mail on Sunday, noted: "The proposal was even backed in a Leader page opinion piece in The Times – perhaps appropriately, given that the same newspaper backed the appeasement of Hitler in the Thirties and Stalin in the Forties."
While it is always amusing to see one paper knock another, it should be remembered that back in the 1930s, it wasn't just our stuttering inbred royal family who were pro-Hitler but a very prominent national newspaper also carried the headline: Hurrah for the Blackshirts. Which paper was it? The Daily Mail of course.
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I caught a film on TV the other night in which Will Smith played a superhero called Hancock whose life was turned around by a PR man. The superhero was a boozy, unpopular slimeball and the PR man was a nice, honest man trying to make the world a better place. Talk about far fetched.
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An old schoolfriend contacted me via Facebook after what must be eight years with the possibility of a writing job for one of his clients. I knew that all those years of telling the world what I had for breakfast via my status updates would eventually pay off.
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Mark Lawrenson is rubbish and anyone who thinks otherwise clearly isn't a true football fan. And I know I'm not alone in thinking that. So there.
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And the Oscars? What's that all about? Yet again a top award goes to someone for doing an impression rather than the much harder 'acting' job of making a two dimensional made up character believable and real (which Colin Firth can do admirably well, by the way).
And why, exactly, were Paris Hilton, Jamie Oliver and Katie Price in Hollywood for Oscar parties? What the hell has anything that happens there got to do with them?
And the award for grouchiest blogger of the day goes to....me. Cheers, Solly