Despatches from Poppy Spalding
This week I'm in Athens, the ancient city responsible for PE, maths and classics and, without which, there would have been no need for me to attend fifth form on a Tuesday.
'TELL me, how many times did you knock one out over Princess Margaret?' is the question I'd have put to Prince Philip if he'd ever been allowed to come on my show...
By Karen Fenessey
It's common courtesy to give a gift receipt with Christmas presents. Not only does this allow you to ascertain if the person bought the item at a marked down price, it also allows you to return it should it be unsuitable. Donny's creepy Jewish sister made no attempt to atone for what she did to Christ and gave me a pair of socks from Marks and Spencer's...
Desptaches from Poppy Spalding
Friday: The Balkans
THIS week finds me on a pilgrimage to Medjugorje in Bosnia. I'd intended to spend Christmas in Munich getting gubbed on Glue Wine at their famous German markets, but after meeting some really happy Italians in the train station, I changed my plans. They said that their happiness was all because of Santa Maria (who's not like the Santa who comes down your chimney like I initially thought).
By Michael Caine
Do you know, there are three things in this life that are a given: 1) Sean Connery will never put his hand in his bleeding pocket; 2) Michael Winner shouldn't be allowed to direct the bloody traffic; and 3) I'll never be asked to switch the Christmas lights on in Oxford Street ever again...
By Karen Fenessey
For some, this time of year means binging on mince pies, mulled wine and laxatives. However, for others, the birth of Christ can mean only one thing: dirty, filthy sex with hundreds of prostitutes.
I was standing in the men's toilet in Sainsbury’s the other day, doing a man wee with my man's willy, when suddenly I had this thought: AREN'T WILLIES THE DAFTEST LOOKING THINGS!?!
Dispatches from Poppy Spalding
THIS week finds me in the Austrian capital - birthplace of such legendary musicians as Mozart and genius Band Aid 20 creator, Midge Ure. However, people forget that there's a dark underbelly to this place which involves doing stuff with your dad that I'd rather not even think about.