News, What News...

There's an appalling lack of bloggable news today. The Guardian website offers live-text for the Lib Dem conference and London Fashion week, pictorials of Oktoberfest and a video about tigers being capable of mating in the mountains of Bhutan. None of which can particularly be anatomised in 500 to 1000 words of ideally witty prose.

So, what to talk about, if not Clegg's Faustian pact, overflowing litre steins of Export Juergenbrau, ridiculous clothes and nobbing tigers? Well, not a lot really... erm... did you all have nice weekends? I made several thoroughly underappreciated jokes on Twitter (perhaps future civilisations will look back on them and deem them worthy of laughter) and embarked on attempting to drown myself in even more writing projects (a grand total of 2 sitcoms, 1 full length play, 3 one-act plays, 1 graphic novel, 1 radio drama, 2 short films at last census).

Sometimes life and the news outdo themselves and contrive to serve up a story about a dangerous mental winning a Mid-Term Primary or bear getting trapped in a car, yet today there is no such luck. We were given a list of people who earn more than Cameron by Auntie Beeb (in the Public Sector, not just in life in general) and top of the pile sat Sir Jock Stirrup, awarded a meaty £288, 700 a year, presumably for being the only MoD chief to actually be a fictional character from a Monty Python sketch.

In sports news, while diving to catch a well-hit Afridi 6 (admirable commitment), a MCC member of managed to stack it into some substantial metalwork. All in good fun, eh? Otherwise they wouldn't show the replays, right? Wrong! He looked as though he'd lost a fight with a grizzly and grinned at the TV cameras as his bloodied face was dabbed with a friend's hanky, clearly dying inside. The lesson here? Never try. Particularly if TV cameras are involved.