believe it or not

The lead story in the Sun today: 'Victor Meldrew Found In Space'. Yes, join the dots of a certain constellation in a certain way and that's what you get. Victor Meldrew's face. 'We Don't Believe It!', crows the paper. Yeah, and I don't believe that's actually on your front page.

Not that the Mail's much better. It was only when I got to the TV listings today that I realised I'd been reading yesterday's edition by mistake. In some respects, it might have been from twenty years ago - there was even an article on bringing back hanging. For hate preachers, I think.

Why all the fuss about hate preachers? They're no scarier than WWE wrestlers. Grimacing in their publicity shots, brandishing their hooks and boasting about how Islam's going to whip our asses: their natural home is The Jerry Springer Show, not a mosque.

I've got a little more time to devote to this blog now that a significant proportion of the people I hang out with are holidaying in Spain. All I know about Spain currently is what I read in the tabloids: it's experiencing a heatwave, and poisonous jellyfish are terrorising the coastline. I picture a War of the Worlds-type scenario: screaming holidaymakers bursting into flame on the beaches, while 30-foot high jellyfish rise from the waters, lashing their deadly tentacles. I'm sure it isn't like that at all.