Falling leaves…

November 2, 2010

Obviously, around this time of the year, it being the fall, as they say, the streets are ankle-deep in leaves, slushy and treacherous after a drop of rain, not crispy and crunchy and kick-able as I portrayed in one rather clichéd ad (delivered, it must be said, in a hurry).

The other thing that causes me even more grief in late October and early November, is the number of people on television who  can’t wear their poppies properly. For some reason, there’s been a vogue for leaves behind the poppies, which weren’t there when I was a lad (but then neither were iPhones and the internet).

Which leads me to my point. Why, oh why, do these wretched celebs let the leaves dangle, at 45 degrees or worse, like a limp dick? This has puzzled me for several years, but today I think I found the answer.

Step forward and un-hide your shame, Andrew Neil, taker of the Murdoch shilling, despoiler of the Sunday Times, and possessor of the limpest leaf in Christendom …


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