Plugs Are Not, Merely, Something You Put In Your Bath To Stop The Water Running Out

From The North update ahoy, dearest bloggerisationism fiends. Hit That There blog signal Keith Telly Topping and let us, if you'd be ever so kind, get this show very much on the road.

As soon as possible, if you please.

We start this here latest From The North update with a jolly really very important Stately Telly Topping Manor announcement relating, specifically, to Bride of a Vault of Horror - A Book of Seventy Two Great* British** Films of 'Mystery & Suspense From 1933 to 1986 (* And not so great) (** Plus two French, three Italian and one Spanish) a book written by this very blogger. You knew that, right? Which is as follows: 'From The Ghoul to Gothic - seventy two British 'mystery and suspense' films (plus two French, three Italian and one Spanish) which collectively made a lasting impression on the psyche of a nation. Author Keith Topping examines more of the films which shaped his childhood (except for the ones that he didn't see until he was in his twenties), taking a wry and often irreverent look at their triumphs and failings, their stars, their continuity blunders and impact on the genre as a whole. Illustrated with many rare black and white photographs, this is one film guide guaranteed to raise a smile as we take you back to more memories of yesteryear. 613pp. 6×9 trade paperback, ISBN: 978-1-84583-270-4, publication date 31 October 2026.' So, that's what oit's all about, dear blog fiends and, most important of all, it is now extremely available for pre-order. Here, to be precise.

Please do consider buying one, several or lots. Keith Telly Topping, as well you know, remains a thoroughly self-unemployed author, journalist, broadcaster and blogger with an ever growing Blu-ray collection and a salt and chilli King Prawn with boiled rice habit to support. It's a monkey he simply can't get off his back. Thank you, therefore, for allowing him into your Interwebs. And, if you're looking for a specific reason to buy the book in question, then please consider this extract, from the introduction (page ten), by way of a taster to the rest of the contents.

Is this in any way representative of you when watching a horror film at your local kinematographic palace of entertainment, dear blog reader? If so, then you really need to pre-order a copy of yer actual Keith Telly Topping's latest volume, Bride of a Vault of Horror - A Book of Seventy Two Great* British** Films of 'Mystery & Suspense From 1933 to 1986 (* And not so great) (** Plus two French, three Italian and one Spanish). Which, just a reminder, is thoroughly available from here. Go on. You know you want to.

Meanwhile, as the last Stately Telly Topping Manor project nears its long-awaited publication date, the current Stately Telly Topping Manor project, Beyond a Vault of Horror - A Study of Seventy Further Great* British Tales of 'Mystery & Suspense' 1936-1981 (* and not so great) - the fourth part of the A Vault of Horror tetralogy (or, fifth if you count Island of Terror) - has entered the final six weeks of it's editing before delivery to the publishers. Which, ironically, is scheduled for the very day that its predecessor, Bride of a Vault of Horror - A Book of Seventy Two Great* British** Films of 'Mystery & Suspense From 1933 to 1986 (* And not so great) (** Plus two French, three Italian and one Spanish), is due for release.

And, as we all wait - patiently, one hopes - for the forthcoming release of Bride of a Vault of Horror - A Book of Seventy Two Great* British** Films of 'Mystery & Suspense From 1933 to 1986 (* And not so great) (** Plus two French, three Italian and one Spanish) next month, should any dear blog fiends be of a mind to do so, they can always order one, two or all three of this blogger's previous tomes on British horror, SF and fantasy films from the genuinely tremendous, immensely ground-breaking and totally fantastico Telos Publishing (available here, here and here). Unless, of course, you already have ordered one, two or all three of them, obviously. In which case, this blogger loves you all the mostest, baby. You remain the greatest collective blog fiends that ever there was in all the live-long day and, this blogger, humbly, thanks you all for allowing him - once again - into your homes (and, indeed, your wallets). Except to note that, of course, you could - if you, you know, felt like it - order one, two or all three of them again. Perhaps as a gift for that special someone in your life ... whom you don't like. It's an option that's all this blogger is saying.

Speaking of the genuinely tremendous, immensely ground-breaking and total fantabuloid Telos Publishing, this massive tome (which this blogger has had on pre-order since sometime in January) turned up at The Stately Telly Topping Manor late last week. This blogger is currently approximately one hundred and sixty pages into the book (he's just about reached filming of The Macra Terror) and is happy to report that David Brunt's book, the second in what is - potentially - a quindecalogy, is every bit as good as the previous - superb - volume. And it's massive; weighing in at a staggering seven hundred and seventy four pages. It can be purchased here and, frankly, anyone with even the slightest interest in Doctor Who and its lengthy history cannot afford not to have it in their lives and on their (ideally reinforced) bookshelves. Trust this blogger on this one, he's a highly respected best-selling author, journalist and broadcaster, you should probably give his opinion at least the courtesy of consideration.

Additionally, allow this blogger to reveal the reason why the lady from Royal Mail who delivers The Stately Telly Topping Manor post to Derek, The Stately Telly Topping Manor door each day now curtsies every time she hands the latest batch over. 

Since last this blogger did bloggerise, dear blog fiends, there has been yet another of Keith Telly Topping's fortnightly (or, sometimes, three-weekly, depending on health issues) luncheonettes with That There Young Malcolm. This time, it was at the very marvellous From The North favourite The Amaysia and consisted of, first up, a well-soupy starter.

Then, a completely total currytastic main course (with a, necessary, water supplement).

And, finally, whilst That There Young Malcolm was busy getting coked-up right good and proper, not only a coffee be also, inevitably, a wafffffer-thin mint. Very nice it was, too.

Then, this blogger returned to The Stately Telly Topping Manor for some fun and games (mainly, the latter).

Next up, a From The North Top Tip, dear blog fiends ('borrowed', this blogger freely admits, direct from the pages of Viz). This blogger well remembers buses, dear blog fiends. He was on two of them just only yesterday as it happens.

Followed by an actual, honest-to-God, Stately Telly Topping Manor Top Tip. If you're about to go away on yer hollybobs, dear blog fiends, always remember to get your passport renewed and have the photograph taken by an accredited photographer. Failure to do so may cause all manner of yer actual discombobulation and malarkey.

Really? This blogger must've missed the entire thing. He was probably too busy considering the inherent ludicrousness of existence at the time. Either that, or listened to the first House of Love LP that particular evening. One or the other. Probably the latter, frankly. 

Blimey, what's poor Tim done to deserve such a grizzly fate, then?

Two points here (well, three if you count an overdue salute of the Stately Telly Topping Manor titfer to everyone in Clacton - at least one resident of which clearly, if you will, Hathaway with words). Firstly, what, exactly, is a 'flicking cent', this blogger has always been curious about that? And, secondly, this blogger sincerely believes it's the underscored emphasis on the word 'still' that makes it art, dear blog fiends.

This blogger wonders whether that chair without a backrest is, entirely, ergonomically suitable for the task for which it has, seemingly, been designed? That's a health and safety nightmare waiting to happen, to be sure. 

Usually, whenever this blogger gets his bi-annual severe Barnet crop at his local hair salon boutique, Keith Telly Topping is often asked 'you're not a pensioner, are you?' as, if he was, he would qualify for a two quid OAP discount. To which, this blogger usually replies with something along the lines of 'Julian H Cope, I don't look that old to you, do I?' Last week, however, when this blogger had just received a fashionably serious suedehead, the lady who did the sterling job on The Stately Telly Topping Manor riah, when asked by this blogger what the actual damaged was, replied 'you're a pensioner, right?' More of a statement than a question, frankly. Now, technically speaking, this blogger is, indeed, a pensioner as he receives his monthly occupation pension (such as it is) from his former employers and has done since he was sixty. So, Keith Telly Topping told her that this was, broadly speaking, accurate and, thus, he got changed a tenner rather than the usual twelve notes for the job. This blogger did, briefly, considering fessing-up at that juncture and informing her that, in future, she should specify exactly which pensioners are eligible for said discount and which are not. But, then this blogger thought to his very self, 'nah. Life's difficult enough as it is, let her learn the hard way.' Here endeth today's lesson, dear blog fiends. Be specific is all things.

Is it just this blogger or does anyone else still have a fairly significant problem with this story - reported by BBC News - even at those odds?

A regular feature of recent From The North updates has been this blogger, frankly, crowing - like a murder of crows at their most murderous - about those occasional occasions when he gets a decent score on Geoguesser. And, this latest bloggerisationsim update is going to be no different, dear blog fiends. Why change the habit of a lifetime (or, of the last few months, anyway)? On 9 September yer actual Keith Telly Topping only went and broke the standing Stately Telly Topping Manor record with a score of twenty three thousand nine hundred and eighty out of a possible twenty five thousand. Pure dead chuffed so this blogger was.

He was, he must confess, completely blown away by the fact that in the final round a 'this, frankly, could be anywhere' guess of somewhere in the middle of the United Arab Emirates turned out not only to be the right country but, by a complete fluke - that almost certainly, won't ever occur again - less than sixty miles from the actual location.

Next, dear blog fiends, it would appear that they've got everything you could possibly wish for in Aisle Fifteen. Which is good to know.

On 10 November 1967, the following pop package tour played at the Newcastle City Hall. Quite a line-up. This blogger would have gone but, only being four years old at the time, Mama Telly Topping had the final say on that matter and she said 'no.' An opportunity missed, one could argue.

And, on that bombshell, that's the end of this far shorter than usual update. However, fear not, dear blog fiends. From The North will return.

It Might As Well Rain Until September (And, It Looks Like To Probably Will)

So, dearest bloggerisationism fiends, it came to pass that another month went by and so did begat another From The North blog update in the area, Big Man 'ting, dis way der and this and that and all that and everything. And, lo, this blogger saw that it was good. Well, okay maybe not 'good' per se but, you know, 'adequate', at the very least. 'Passable,' then. Any advance on 'passable'? No? In which case, let's go with that one until something more appropriate crops up in the future.

As usual, let us be all frightfully British and begin any given bloggerisationism conversation (and this one in particular) with the latest Stately Telly Topping Manor Weather Report. For there has been a lot of it about, of late. It's been hot, dear blog fiends. It's been sticky. It's been oppressive. This blogger has been extremely sleep-deprived for much of the last month and, generally, hasn't been this disappointed with life since The Godfather Part III was released.

However, wouldn't you just know it, dear blog fiends? Whereas we have found ourselves knee-deep in the hottest British summer since ... the last really very mad-hot British summer, indeed (2022?) with water shortages and hosepipe bans all in the offing, the second that England's cricket test series against Pakistan kicked-off, it's done naught but piss it down with rain ever since!

Sod's law, innit? As this blogger is sure all fellow sods will thoroughly agree. It would appear that, just sometimes, the universe does actually listen to (and even answer) heartfelt pleas from The Multitude for a bit of respite from the never-ending heat.

Tell them all about it, 'Mister Spunk' (see previous blog update for a, necessary, word of explanation on what that particular joke is all about and how it came to be in the first place).

At one point during August, the heat got so Goddamn serious that on one particularly alarming Saturday evening Britons all received, not one, but two major weather alters issued to their phones by The Government. Which, one imagines, fair shitted-up the majority of the populace as much as it did this blogger when what sounded like a klaxon announcing The Coming Of The Lord sounded in The Stately Telly Topping Manor front room. For an instant, this blogger thought the Bloody Russians had decided to start bombing us instead of Ukraine (or, indeed, Norwich - see below).

The second of these alerts, admittedly, was by far more serious than the first.

On the subject of the recent solar eclipse which was visible across large parts of the UK and, specifically, to one particularly numbskull sub-editor at the i (so, not a real newspaper, then). Whilst it is important to confess, up front, that this blogger is neither an astronomer nor an astrophysicist it is, nevertheless, Keith Telly Topping's understanding that solar eclipses, generally speaking, tend to take place when the Sun is actually visible in the sky. And, therefore, not at 'night'. Under the latter circumstances, whenever it gets dark all of a sudden, that's called 'night'. And, by 'generally', this blogger, of course, means 'always'.

The last From the North blog update also contained details of this blogger recently aschieving a couple of twenty-two-to-twenty-three-thousand-plus scores on Geoguesser. And, bragging about it because, partly he's shallow and obvious like that but, also, because he was as every single bit surprised by this happenstance as, he's sure, everyone else was. As of the day of writing this latest From The North bloggerisationism update, this blogger's daily steak on the geography quiz website now extends to one hundred and thirty eight consecutive days. Recent highlights include, on 19 August, Keith Telly Topping finding his very self a mere but thirteen short of breaking the previous Stately Telly Topping Manor record with a score of twenty three thousand eight hundred and twenty six. Close, dear blog fiends. Ever so close. But, ultimately, no cigar. 

Then, on the following day, mistaking a location in rural Mexico for a location in rural Spain during the fourth round cost this blogger what may well have been a new Stately Telly Topping Manor record and consigned this blogger, rightly, back into the ranks of total mediocrity.

But, also, on 25 August we had a necessary reminder that this blogger remains an often geet clumsy and over-excitable oaf with a far-too-frequent an inclination to dive into something head-first instead of taking his time and considering his (presumably many) options; what occurred thereafter was, clearly, proof of his continued decidedly amateur status as a Geo-type-individual, an absolutely piss-poor effort and one of this blogger's worst ever daily scores. A useful reminder that one should never get too carried away when starting to think you've actually cracked something when you, demonstrably, have not. At least, not yet. 

Another regular feature of recent From The North updates has been Keith Telly Topping's picking holes in Google's Gemini AI and the, sometimes 'possibly not entirely one hundred per cent accurate', answers that it gives to what should be reasonably straightforward information requests. You know the kind of thing this blogger is on about, yes?

However, dear blog fiends, Keith Telly Topping is but nothing if not a fair(ish) man when it comes to people (or, in this case, artificially generated ... things) actually getting requested answers, broadly speaking, correct. Congratulations, therefore, to whichsoever (presumably) human being it was that fed this information onto the Interweb so that AI could extrapolate a - more-or-less - accurate answer to a - more-or-less - straightforward question. Jolly well done, there whomsoever (or, whatsoever) you are.

That said, a thoroughly harsh and hopefully flipping painful pants-down-shoeing should be supplied to whichever AI (or non-AI) plank still hasn't updated this blogger's Grokipedia page, despite this blogger pointing out in the last From The North update the several not insignificant errors and omissions that it contains. Bad AI.

A couple of weeks ago, yer actual That There Keith Telly Topping did a telephone interview with the very excellent Emma Millen of BBC Radio Newcastle and BBC Radio Tees on the subject of writing about horror, science friction, fantasy, mystery and suspense for fun and profit(!), partly as a favour for this blogger's old BBC colleague Nick Roberts who is the Upload show's producer, partly because this blogger has done a few such pieces with Emma previously and she's dead lovely to talk to but, mostly, because self-publicity is Keith Telly Topping's middle name, rather than 'Telly'. Actually, it's Andrew, but that's really not important right now. Highlights of the conversation went out on the evening of Saturday 29 August on BBC Tees only on this particular occasion as BBC Newcastle, in the shape of another pair of former BBC colleagues of this blogger, Matty Raisbeck and John Anderson, were busy covering the blogger's beloved (and now, thankfully, sold ... along with half their first team squad) United's visit to Stottingtot Hotshots. Gyiddip me bonny Toon, by the way. Stick that in yer two-hundred-grand-plus-a-week pay packet, Mister Tonali, you greedy filth. Anyway, for any dear blog fiends who wish to hear this blogger's bland, inane ramblings about all things Telos Publishing, his own private and personal history with watching horror movies on telly, how one goes about writing such books in the first place and, special bonus, a couple of bits of utterly shameless name-dropping, the piece lasts for approximately thirteen minutes spread across three chunks at this very link, starting at 1:15:30 into the show, followed by 1:28:30 and 1:40:30, each portion lasting about four or five minutes, ending at 1:45:34 just before Republica sing 'Ready To Go' (which, this blogger is reasonably certain that you will be, too, by the end). This will be available on Listen Again for thirty four days from the date of broadcast (29 August 2026). Keith Telly Topping is, additionally, available for Birthdays, Christenings, Pantomime and Bah Mitsvahs, if anyone's absolutely desperate. This was a public service announcement. With guitars.

'Cheer up, Sandro. Just ponder on the size of your massive wage packet; one is sure that's ample compensation for you currently being bottom of the league with two catastrophic defeats and people cracking jokes like "what's the difference between Tottenham Hotspur and a pencil? A pencil actually has a point."' 

It's a Goddamn crying shame, so it is. 

As usual, since last this blogger blogged like a big bloggerising thing, Keith Telly Topping has enjoyed at least one thoroughly enjoyable luncheonette up at The Keel Row with regular luncheonette companion, That There Young Malcolm. And, jolly geet lush it was, too. As demonstrated by this photographic evidence. 

Which, as usual, went down right proper great. As demonstrated by this photographic evidence. 

When yer actual Desmond Dekker once said 'me git up in de mah-nin' slavin' far brecksa, so dat ev'ry mouse can be fed, woah-hoo, me ears are alight' this blogger is reasonably certain that yer actual Desmond his very self was most definitely not singing about Morrison's 'three-items-for-a-fiver-plus-a-cuppa' meal-deal. This blogger, on the other hand, was on the particular day that this here photographic evidence was captured by Carrie, the Stately Telly Topping Manor camera-phone. The fact that the scrambled eggs were, seemingly, salmonella-free, was a welcome added bonus. 

Meanwhile, back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor (Part The First). Shake it all about for the people, baby.

A new semi-regular The Stately Telly Topping Manor mini-series, next, 'Keith Telly Topping watches Wilfully Obscure Christopher Lee Tales of Mystery & Suspense.' Number one: Two hundred and fourteen points and a gold star will be awarded to any dear blog reader who successfully identifies the film that this comes from. Answers on a postcard. 

Meanwhile, back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor (Part The Second). Okay, ladies, one at a time if you don't mind. Please form an orderly queue. 

Now, dear blog fiends, it's the 'Woah, Bit Of Politics' segment and some From The North observations concerning the recent, thigh-slappingly hilarious Clacton by-erection. Starting off with the fact that The Monster Raving Loonies put up three separate candidates - Nick the Incredible Flying Brick, Screaming Laud Hope and Baron von Thunderclap (four, if you count Laurence Fox) - in the process, receiving but twenty eight, eighteen and fifteen votes, respectively. This, it would appear, split the Clacton Raving Loony vote? If they'd fielded only but one candidate - Nick the Incredible Screaming Thunderclap, perhaps - they would have received sixty one votes at least. Which, as a consequence, would've only put them a couple of hundred votes behind certified Raving Loony, Fox. Think about these things next time, guys - if you had done, it's entirely possible that Clacton may well have 'swung Loony.' Also, this blogger wishes to extend his most sincere sympathies to 'Woke Trump Carzee' (possibly not his real name, Keith Telly Topping is guessing) who, despite getting only but eight votes, still didn't come dead last in a Kevin Phillips-Bong style. Un-lucky, Mister Carzee. Seven people, presumably all from his family, thought that Glenn Charles Cummings (Extremely Independent) was worthy of their 'X'. Only in Britain, dear blog fiends. In other news, one-in-four Claptonites who expressed a preference, would sooner vote for a bin than for That There Mister Nasty Farago. Who is now, once again, under investigation for (alleged) general parliamentary naughtiness. There is a God, it would appear.

This blogger must try the following the next time that he experiences any problems with The Stately Telly Topping Manor Sky TV reception.

'Still no luck catching them swans, then?' 'It's just the one swan, actually ...'

That, dear blog fiend, would've definitely been well worth paying good money to watch.

On an only marginally not-in-the-slightest-bit-related theme, this blogger begs to differ with this claim; he, personally, considers that the citizens of Satan-Is-Lord-upon-Wear (or Sunderland as it's otherwise known) would argue counter to this particular assertion.

Meanwhile, back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor (Part The Third). Check out The Gear.

Next, dear blog fiends, it would seem that there are some places in the world where 'This Sort Of Thing' not only isn't banned but, rather, is actually encouraged. Whomsoever knew?

'But, I only asked for a shampoo and set.'

Keith Telly Topping feels it necessary at this juncture to restate From The North's oft-argued mission statement: 'Get a haircut and a shave, you hippies. And get a wash, y'stink.' There. Hopefully everyone feels a bit better now with that public restating of this blog's moral compass.

This blogger should say that this is, broadly speaking, a wise notion.

Here, meanwhile, is the semi-regular From The North Fashion Corner section. And, you are thoroughly welcome to it. Style.

Sometimes, dear blog fiend, shop names are writing a cheque that the contents of the store itself don't have the tiniest hope in Hell of actually cashing.

Back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor (Part The Fourth). And, once again, this blogger acknowledges Major - and, by Major, Keith Telly Topping means Brigadier-General-type - thanks to the very excellent Retro Vault Facebook page for their well-groovy inspirations in the areas of interior and exterior design and decoration at The Stately Telly Topping Manor.

All of which veritable stuff and, if you will, nonsense, brings us tottering towards the, by now extremely regular, From The North Headline Of The Month awards nominations list; starting off with this linguistic masterpiece from the Manchester Evening News. This blogger is guessing that the stated lack of hardness in the individual concerned means the stolen Viagra didn't actually work on him? Whether the simple recidivist in questions ended up with a stiff sentence, however, remains unknown.

Followed swiftly by this, from the BBC News website (which used to be run by adults). Broadly speaking, dear blog fiends, there is no 'good' way to go. However, dying on the slopes of Mount Enta and it not being 'drowned in molten lava', that's really unlucky. (Let it be noted: Rich Hall's infamous Qi joke about someone who gets struck by lightning being nicknamed 'Bernie' isn't, perhaps, the most appropriate comment to conclude this short segment with ... but it is undeniably funny so, you know, let's just go with it.)

Next, this is a complete and total guess on this blogger's behalf and Keith Telly Topping freely confesses that he's no biologist or, indeed, a 'scientist' of any description but, could the answer to this particular conundrum, be that birds possess wings and, generally speaking, crocodiles do not? And, by 'generally speaking', this blogger means ... Oh, hang on, we've done that one, haven't we?

This blogger has eaten some decidedly odd (if, sometimes, extremely interesting) curry dishes in his time, dear blog fiend, but curried seagull? That's, unquestionably, a first.

This, dear blog fiend, reported by the Dunedin Herald, is one Hell of a good trick if you can pull it off.

If this is, (as has been widely suggested), an example of extreme sarcasm from the Independent ('it's not been an easy year for Brooklyn Beckham, who has had to borrow his Godfather Elton John's yacht instead of holidaying with his family.' Oh, Brooklyn, our hearts bleed for you, mate) then it's a premiere piece of ripping-the-actual-piss. But, this blogger has a very horrible suspicion that it, along with all of these other wastes of good toilet paper about the chap, is supposed to be serious. This, dear blog reader, is the Twenty First Century. 

Meanwhile, it would seem that police have been alerted to be on the lookout for a Timelord wearing a puzzled expression.

'It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it.' Said the shark. Influencers? As indigestible as ever. 

'Don't hurry back on our account.' Said pretty much everyone.

Of course, as long-term From The North readers will know, a From The North Headline Of The Month award nomination list wouldn't be a From The North Headline Of The Month award nomination list without at least one contribution from the Metro (so, not a real newspaper). Congratulations, therefore, go to 'Live News Reporter' (as opposed, one imagines, to 'Dead News Reporter') one Sarah Hooper for this piece of absolute - admittedly hilarious - rude filth. One trusts your parents are really very proud of you and all your doings, Sarah.

And, speaking of abject filth, here's another From The North Headline Of The Month award nomination list regular, the Middle Class hippy Communists at the Gruniad Morning Star also getting in on the sexy malarkey act.

Next, possibly the single most distasteful and shitty example of shoehorning a celebrity into a story (a tragic one at that) entirely for the sake of clickbait. Horrible. Just, horrible. 

Tomorrow's potential headline: 'Torygraph Sub-Editor reportedly found extremely dead in "mysterious circumstances"'?

One from that good-old bastion of always truthful and accurate reportage, the Daily Lies, now. Here. Yes, because The Butcher of Grozny has had it right-in for those carrot-crunching bastards ever since The Canaries beat his beloved (though unsellable) Moscow Dynamo in a pre-season friendly in 1986, has he not?

'Errr ... No. No, it isn't.' 'Okay. Thanks for that, Scientist. Next in The Times, is rice pudding denser than a sense of shame? Laurence Fox investigates.'

'Oh, Jesus, why do you guys bring religion into everything?'

In the latest 'Shock! Horror! Probe!' 'exclusive' from the BBC News website (which used to be run by adults) some daft plank of a hipster buys something off Vinted and is then surprised when it turns out to be 'not, strictly speaking, as advertised.' And we should all be, what? Outraged on her behalf? Surprised? Hugely amused? Well, there latter of course. No doubt about it. 

'Accusations of "role-playing fantasy" and vandalism at the ancient sites on a Welsh island has turned the air of wonder into an atmosphere of hostility.' Apparently. Well, according to The Times, anyway. 'There's, clearly, only one way to sort this malarkey out, right good and proper and no mistake; fight!'

Another work of art from the Metro (so, to repeat, not a real newspaper, then). This, clearly, being the - if you will - ahem, wurst thing that ever happened to the driver in question. Nah, lissun ...

'So, what happened was, I was in the kitchen preparing the vegetables for Sunday lunch, nurse, and then I, err, slipped. No, seriously, that's exactly what occurred.'

This blogger isn't sure which is the most amusing part of this story, once again reported by the Indi without the merest hint of irony; the crushed hopes of Morrissey and all other 'I didn't vote for him' type anti-monarchists or the line 'Once they realised what had happened, they stopped the files and "panicked and left the premises."' This blogger could go either way on that score.

To which, no doubt, Mozza and his mates will all be furious, discombobulated and chanting, as one ...

One from the archives, now. And proof that Basingstoke was a well-dodgy gaff back in the 1980s.

'I hear you're a racist now, Father ...'

'Should we all be racists now?'

Next, a demonstration that, living in The Land Down Under ('where women glow and men chunder', apparently), they also appreciate a quality example from the 'How Ironic Is That?' column. 

On the other side of the Tasman Sea, meanwhile, weirdness also abounds, seemingly. Involving cucumbers to boot.

Mind you, dear blog fiends, according the Metro (so, not a real newspaper), vegetable abuse is also on the rise on these very shores. Who knew? If you're wondering, by the way, 'stroking his courgette' is not an euphemism for something else.

Even Barry is at it, it would appear. Bad Barry.

To cut a long story short he looks, if you will, 'cold.' True.

This blogger, incidentally, once had the extreme misfortune to have to suffer through Tony Hadley murdering the National Anthem before the 1998 FA Cup Final at Wembley. As if this blogger's beloved (and, in those days unsellable) United playing appallingly against a not particularly impressive Arsenal side that day and losing without even a whimper let alone a bang (or a goal) wasn't bad enough.

One trusts it was 'the tight pink' rather than 'the loose brown'.

One of Enid Blyton's lesser-known works gets the full reissue treatment.

And finally, one from ITV News for all the billions of Charles Jolly fans out there. And, if you don't know who he was, dear blog reader, that's what Google is for.

In today's Stately Telly Topping Manor 'self-help' segment, this is for any dear From The North blog fiends who find themselves thoroughly in need of a cuddle.

Today's soundtrack at The Stately Telly Topping Manor, dear blog fiends. Witchtastic.

'Slightly hearing-challenged cameraman, told to go out an take a picture of "a cult."' True story. 

And, all of Them There razzamatazz and shenanigans concludes the latest From The North blog update. This blog will return when next yer actual Keith Telly Topping deems it necessary to update all dear blog fiends on, if you will, what's goin' down in Groovetown. You feel me?