don't trust the sun

A headline in the Brentwood Recorder says that Amy Childs is 'less interesting than a pot plant'. They've done research apparently. Maybe this is why there is to be no second series of It's All About Amy. In its slot, an hour-long static shot of a geranium is expected to bring the viewers in.

Jeremy Vine was talking about brothers and sisters sharing the same bed. Listeners rang in to say that it never did them any harm; or that it did. A woman had to sleep with her four brothers - 'What position did you take?', asked Jeremy. Cheeky Jeremy seems to have been taking lessons from Chris Morris. After a soundbite of Peter Tatchell tackling Robert Mugabe, Jeremy asked Tatchell if what we were hearing was Mugabe's bodyguards 'pulling him off'. You could actually hear Tatchell do a double-take.

There is a feeling in the admin department that JV is inventing most of his stories just to wind people up. Nevertheless we continue to listen. Other things we refuse to endure, like the sun. In admin we are distinctly ambivalent about the sun, which comes in at a certain point in the afternoons and hits Lorraine in the face. At that point the blinds are firmly drawn, plunging us into premature night (or it would do, if we didn't have electric light). Last Friday, they were drawn twice because Lorraine misjudged the sun's whereabouts and opened them too soon. When they were opened the second time it had ceased to dazzle. 'It's gone behind the trees', Lorraine said, but she still didn't sound entirely reassured. Unable to see it from my seat, I requested that she keep us informed of the sun's activities. 'Let us know if it comes up again.'

Such a cosmic upheaval did not seem to be entirely out of the question, since that very afternoon a massive asteroid was due to narrowly-miss the Earth at about four. Steve Wright had joked about it. Which did not seem to provide a cast-iron guarantee that the world would not, in fact, end.

It didn't though.