The second half of Lance Armstrong’s interview with Oprah aired last night and… er… he still admits to being a cheat. The airing of the second interview served about as useful and served as much purpose as Right Said Fred’s comb.
Whilst Armstrong continues to hit the headlines. He’s currently being pushed out of them by the snowfall that has engulfed the UK. Whilst the snowfall is about as heavy as Karen Carpenter (inappropriate?), we still seem to be making a fuss about it.
Many lazy writers seem to be obsessed with writing about the ostensibly dull and vacuous subject of cold weather – so that’s exactly what I’m going to do…
Whenever we get a bit of snow, we need to PPPAAAAAAANNIIIIIIICCCCCCC!!! Despite the temperature being minus 3 (which is the same as the number of friends that Nick Clegg has) the snow hasn’t really been that catastrophic, which is partly because the snowfall was as shallow (a bit like Katie Price) but nonetheless, the ground was covered in white stuff (if you want to say ‘a bit like Katie Price’ then you can, I won’t force you).
I went out today and did some panic buying and bought the usual sat of pointless stuff that I’ll never use – I even purchased some horse burgers, random or what! That said, just in case supplies ran dry, I panic bought quite a few pints of beer form my local pub – I’m not taking my chances.
Mobility is difficult in such weather and I remember a few years ago I had to ring my boss and tell him that the snow was too bad for me to drive and therefore I couldn’t work that day – I was sacked from my job as a gritting lorry driving the next day.
As I get older, the snow and bad weather annoys me more than the 2012 Olympics (it was meant to be terrible, but turned out to be brilliant – what a let down! In the end, the Olympics made me proud to be British – Mitt Romney also has the same effect…).
The idea now of building a snowman carries little appeal, although I did build one in the shape of a TV presenter obsessed with the swingometer and I called it Peter Snow-man.
In a similar vein, I hate going outdoors in weather that is colder than George Osborne’s heart as the icy conditions mean that the pavements are slippier than Jimmy Carr’s accountant and the roads are covered in black ice – which apparently is John Terry’s least favourite type of ice (because it’s dangerous, obviously).
My attitude towards snow and extremes of weather is quite simple and, without wanting to sound like Catherine Tate (or the CEO of Starbucks when asked about paying tax), I’m really not bothered about it. There’s some bad news for any children who are 2 feet tall through… there’s 3 feet of snow on the way tomorrow…