BBC 1 Scotland, 10.45. BBC iPlayer https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/p060xfr6/unsolved-the-man-with-no-alibi-1-the-night-of https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/p0618hs2/unsolved-the-man-with-no-alibi-2-no-smoke-without-fire https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/p061bm2d/unsolved-the-man-with-no-alibi-3-the-truth-and-other-lies https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/p061bmtv/unsolved-the-man-with-no-alibi-4-hot-shoe-shuffle https://www.bbc...

I must admit, I was sorely tempted to award Pepsoid everything for this: https://www.abctales.com/story/pepsoid/larry-and-mick-hope-cherry-abc-tales In the end though, Story of the Week goes to Ed Crane's sharp, satirical and frighteningly believable 'Wai Peipei Comes Of Age'. A cautionary tale for our times: https://www.abctales.com/story/ed-crane/wai-peipei-comes-age Poem of the Week is Alfie Shoyger's beautifully constructed 'My First Love,...

I love it! A tale of a young man on the road, busking with his violin in England and Spain. The date 1933. So even if Laurie was playing for pennies down the road at the local shops he would be giving me something new. Past times. He's good. Here's Laurie on backstreet Southampton. 'The streets near the water appeared to be jammed with shops designed more for pleasure than for profit, including tattooists, ear-piecers, bump-readers,...

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b09xptp8/reggie-yates-searching-for-grenfells-lost-lives?ns_mchannel=email&ns_source=pan_newsletter&ns_campaign=PANUK_NLT_13_SCO_HospitalComeHome&ns_linkname=bbctwo_reggieyatesgrenfellsearchingforlostlives_FactualCurrentaffairs_reggieyatesgrenfellsearchingforlostlives&ns_fee=0 I write stuff, which nobody much reads, but I’ve got a roof over my head and I’m not hungry or cold and need to queue...

I rattled through this book in no time. A simple story told in the first person voice of Tom Hazard who was born on the 3 rd March 1581 and is now—I’m crap at arithmetic, so I’ll jump from page 1 to page 316, near the end of the book—and say Tom is around 439 years old. He’s done a lot of living. And his daughter, Marion, who is also over 400 years old, calls the American President ‘a motherfucker’. Wisdom comes with age. Only it doesn’t. Look...

There has been some really thoughtful and moving poetry and prose on the site this week. Story of the Week goes to Richard Dobbs' 'Sunrise'. Immensely readable, its insight into one of the saddest wartime situations is deeply felt without being sentimental: https://www.abctales.com/story/richard-dobbs/sunrise Poem of the Week is elsie katz's 'Shifting Sands'. Funny and sharply observed, it asks questions about what 'home' is, and how we fit into...

The Sopranos is a cumming-of-age novel. Let’s start at the beginning. Page 1. Our Lady of Perpetual Succour School for Girls. Fionnula tells us the school motto, ‘Noses up…knickers DOWN!’ Warning, this novel contains a rape scene, but it’s wee Orla that’s doing the raping. The Sopranos are the elite of the ‘Hoors of the Sacred Heart’. These are the girls in the fifth-year school choir that can hit the highest notes. There’s Fionnula, Orla, (Ra)...

I loved this book. It should really be read in conjunction with Jed Mercurio’s debut novel Bodies . Yeh, that Jed Mercurio that writes scripts for the BBC, Bodies and Line of Duty . Adam Kay is following a similar trajectory, half way between the drama of Jed Mercurio and the upbeat chortleness of Harry Hill. You’re probably thinking why should the tax payer should spend all that money training junior doctors, indirectly subsidising the...

Leggings - Another Day. News: 1. that someone stole their stuff a couple of nights ago and warehoused it. No idea who or where mind you. One of the torturers claimed it was Lord Sanesbury.... who knows? Good to hear of a Knight in action. 2. That one of the men from the start of the game decided to ask me to marry him. I refused. Now there is a clamor from the torture gang as several of them got down on their k- nees before him early on in tha...

Damn and Hell. I was all set to compete in the Teignmouth Poetry Slam tonight. Looking at the settling flurries outside my window I don't think a single contestant is going to be there. We all live at least 10 miles away, some as far as Bristol and Dartmoor. The contest starts at 8pm, railways, roads, none of its going to be workable. Oh well I've got my act prepared for...whenever.