Posted at 1:46pm Thursday 16th April 2009
Wednesday isn't really Wednesday without Prime Minister's Question Time (PMQT). It takes the crescendo out of the political week, leaving it flat and lifeless - like Jacqui Smith's fringe after a particularly gruelling session in the recesses of the PM's left armpit during one of his more gesticular furies.
Posted at 4:03pm Monday 23rd March 2009
New Barnet Council chief executive Nick Walkley has never given a media interview before – ever. But, 14 hours into office, in the wake of the Icelandic deposits fiasco, he changed his mind. And I was the lucky reporter at the end of his about-turn, invited last week into his suspiciously leather-embossed office to find out exactly what Barnet had in store...
Posted at 10:14am Friday 20th February 2009
I have spent much of the past couple of weeks sitting in court. No, not like that (I'm much too clever for them). For work.
Posted at 5:44pm Wednesday 7th January 2009
So I’ve been given the task of doing the first 2009 blog for the Times Series. Brilliant. Not only do I get to feel the weight of our various national and global crises on my shoulders - no money, no sun, no peace, no God (according to 800 Exmouth buses) - but I also have to inflict my inner-gloom and despair onto everyone else. It’s one thing hating the world, but it’s really rubbish when the world starts hating you back.
Posted at 9:30am Tuesday 9th December 2008
Posted at 8:30am Friday 5th December 2008
Last week I received a call from an organisation called Landlord Action. They were keen for me to write an article on a dodgy North Finchley estate agency that allegedly goes under a series of aliases in order to con anyone and everyone it can get its grubby over-fingerprinted mitts on.
Posted at 9:30am Tuesday 28th October 2008
There are few more difficult jobs as a journalist than speaking to a parent who has lost a child. Their pain is etched into every word they say, their voices taut with anxiety and profound sadness.
Posted at 10:50am Thursday 9th October 2008
Last week I wrote a story about a man with real cheek. A rogue. A rascal. A jammy son-of-a-gun. The sort of person housewives hit with their brooms for muddying their lino while sneakily hoisting their hemline and stealing sideways glances in the cooker door to check they don't have lipstick on their teeth.
Posted at 4:20pm Friday 26th September 2008
There was much excitement in the newsroom this morning when the Guardian fell on our doorstep. Emblazoned across the front page, beside a rather smug-looking Simon Jenkins, was the auspicious headline: How to write journalism.
Posted at 11:20am Friday 12th September 2008
The directions to my house are easy, I tell people. Turn left at the traffic lights, veer right around the heap of overflowing bin bags, left again at the Babylonian tower of teetering marrow cartons, burrow through the Turner prize of disembowelled furniture, scale the Everest of discarded burger cartons, longjump the Pollack painting of regurgitated falafel - and hey presto, there you are. Can't miss it.
Posted at 10:15am Saturday 23rd August 2008
I think I'm quite a tolerant person generally. Excitable outbursts of rage, indignation and unmitigated hysteria aren't really my thing.
Posted at 9:30am Thursday 31st July 2008
I generally hate self-righteous people. You know, the sort of people who say, "Oh, just the one", or "I used to be just like you", or "Think of the children", or "Heal the world, make it a better place".