John Gibson: Don't forget to cancel the milk!
He's been the dog-collared man there for a good wee while now but you could hardly call him a kent face. Most of the locals I talk to couldn't tell him from Adam. From Adam Ant, even.
The Rev Neil seems more at home hob-nobbing with the Royals and high falutins than with the hoi-poloi on his doorstep. His flock, I imagine, have more need of his blessing and counselling than Zara and Mike and the affluent in the this kirk's congregation.
Advertisement
Hide AdAdvertisement
Hide AdIncidentally, if rolls are delivered to the manse, cancel those, too.
Current affairs
Shocking. The torrid tale of the pensioner who tried to murder his wife with his home-made electric chair, plugged into the mains. She got wise to it. He got ten years.
He'd seen too many Karloff movies, but it does make you think. Could one make a similar contraption from an Ikea flat pack, batteries included?
Odd business
You've got to hang on to his every word (the pause between them is heavily pregnant). Is Robert Peston, the Beeb's business editor, being groomed as the new John McCririck? Not to be confused with Peston North End, Pestonpans, Tommy Peston. Shaping like a cabaret act, Robert Peston could be the new Tommy Cooper.
His own accord
So what's the buzz on the street this week, John? You mean Hangover Street, hub of the universe?
Angelo Pontone, the Don of the Rustycan family-run ristorante, had no joy in his rake for a new old accordion. He could have picked up a Strad cheap but an accordion would have been more his style, serenading customers at their tables.
Meanwhile, son Paul, the Rustycan's action man, has renewed his Easter Road season ticket. Is he right in the heid?