It's a sad day when Top of the Pops is axed.

It's also not much of a surprise. These days, you'd need a compassor a skilled guide to work out when the show is on it's hidden in the schedule so well. Plus - well, frankly - it's crap.

And it didn't used to be, that's what's so annoying. I remember:

Wondering why Bruno Brooks was so interested in Nena's armpits.

Wincing in pain as Tiffany attempted to sing live.

Seeing the Manics appear in pig masks singing You Love Us.

Gaping in awe as Shane MacGowan's rotten cave of a mouth completely failed to move in synch to the lyrics of Fairytale of New York.

Suede appearing in their tattered taffeta glory and my dad turning to me as if to say "What the fuck are you listening to these days?"

In other news (well, ok, I don't exactly specialise in news, but it's the best you're getting), it seems that my theory about Scotland being shafted by global warming has borne fruit, seeing as it appears to be monsoon season starting today...

Dave xx

p.s. porridge and strawberries is the breakfast of champions.

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