And The First Person To Mention Stoke City Gets It

Sorry for the blogging absence, have been staring at a computer screen all week at work so the last thing I've felt like doing is the same at home. So yes, I've had sore eyes, and believe me, that was before they clapped sight of this picture of RI:SE TV news and weathergirl Zora Suleman. Apparently Zora's favourite restaurant is The Hungry Monk in East Sussex but hopefully now Sussex-symbol Graybo's taken, I can tempt her into alternative filthy habits.

Next week is the last week ever of Channel 4's continually improving breakfast show, and I recommend tuning in. What with Zora's boobs and Big Brother 3 winner Kate Lawler's legs, it's perfectly balanced programming. And in increasingly end-of-school mood, lanky comedian/presenter Iain Lee has been pushing things so close to the edge that next week we should confidently anticipate that he drives straight over it, taking the show with him. If only they'd been this fearless from the beginning, the show might never have been pulled.

Meanwhile, if you've ever been tempted to run a blog yourself, and haven't been frightened by the prospect of trying to compete with my good and humble self, maybe you should read this closing speech from Mike The Tribbled Diva first. A cautionary tale indeed, and one that might well have been subtitled My name's Mike and I'm a blogaholic. I think most people who've run a similar site will feel twinges of recognition with a side order of schadenfreude (sp?) as Mike confesses to losing it big-style in a relentless pursuit of traffic and his increasingly desperate measures to retain it. Mind you, this might just be another cynical attempt at drawing further attention to his hugely popular site (divas are temperamental beasts at the best of times, after all) so this is possibly not the final curtain just yet.

Of course, you'd never find me saddling myself with increasingly misguided personal projects on my site. And in other news, tonight's edition of Mason and Dixon Watch is sponsored by Donnie from Left Pedal. Donnie also picked up a hardcover copy of the Pynchon epic on the cheap, but all that left-pedalling has left him running around in circles with no time to read the darn thing. A pleasure, as always, to be of service in this way to my readers. I'm also available for sleeping with your wives and/or girlfriends, and for a small additional fee, will cook breakfast for them afterwards.

Anyway, back to the book. Pages 252-312 find Mason and Dixon experiencing the US for the first time, still unsure as to whether their project to run the boundary between Pennsylvania and Maryland is a reward or just them simply being sent away to do their lines. They learn of increasing political, religious and racial tensions in this new country during various conversations in bars and coffeehouses, interspersed with a bit of stargazing; apricot tart courtesy of George Washington's missus and quaker Dixon trying to get his oats. Mason becomes increasingly melancholic and suspicions are raised over Dixon's Jesuit angle, so by the end of this sector familiarity is breeding contempt and we find the pair squaring up to each other in what could turn out to be a protracted struggle. More Mason and Dixon watch next week. You know you need your fix.

Off down London tomorrow for a lightning visit to watch West Ham try to kickstart their season against the similarly misfiring Mackems. Further updates on my return, unless I break my leg ski-ing down the slaloms of the Suleman cleavage.