It’s a funny old world, the last few days have been a bit like one of those dreams I have when too much Stilton has got in my digestive system. After the chainsaw non incident we had the unlikely event of a third party getting in on the action in the election campaign as Nick Clegg claimed widespread applause for his performance on the live debate on TV. However, being a cynic, I would say it is easy to come out with dynamic rhetoric when you have no chance of winning. It’s a bit like me saying I could beat Tiger Woods at golf (or at shagging cocktail girls as the case may be) I will never play him so I can say all I want and not be proved incorrect.

Then we had the great volcanic dust storm hanging over us bringing air traffic to a standstill, and by doing so being party to an azure blue sky that I have never seen before, the weather is just so perfect. Icelandic and British relations have never been so poor after the crash of their banking system, and you have to wander if this is an elaborate sabotage of our air space as revenge for the huge interest rates we are kindly putting on their debt to the UK.

Thirdly, George and I witnessed a football match of such one sided proportions yesterday that I had to pinch myself. A Reading side that was entrenched in the relegation zone in January battered Peterborough with no fewer than 25 shots on target to none in reply in a game that someone how only reached 6-0. I have never seen a professional game like it, if it were a boxing match the ref would have stopped it after 20 minutes out of sheer mercy to the battered opposition. It is real pleasure watching this developing side play at such an intensity for 90 minutes.

I’ll save the best to the last. Guess who I met at the A303 services this morning? Forget it you won’t guess………it was none other than unfunny racist comic Jim Davidson who was driving an Aston Martin (I thought he was banned for the next gizillion years). I think I am going to start saying “Ello dare my onky friend it’s Winston ‘ere, de next train will be arriving at Pladington station” if an Aston Martin is the reward for such hilarity. The best bit about it was that being the megastar he is, he sent his mate in to pay for the petrol, either that or he was he was scared there might be Pakistani’s or Homosexuals in there who wanted to feed him curry or bugger him over the counter. When I walked past him on my way out, I really wanted to say “Don’t worry Jim, you can go in, there’s not a Sambo in sight” but I didn’t, and that will be of eternal regret, as it is not an opportunity which will arise again.

Enjoy the pics, let’s hope Jim doesn’t see them, he will thing I am a right Iron Hoof putting flowers on a blog!!!