I'm not quite right at all...am I?

Gordon Bennett. Tony Hart. They had style. They had grace. Bernie Clifton and Peter Glaze.

So I came back from France and went back to work...and not a day goes by when I don't think of goblins. Must have been that Labyrinth DVD on freezeframe back in St Mandrier. That and Stephen Fry saying 'Yeeerrrs' and now I have Catherine Tate's 'How very dare you!' rattling around inside my swede, like a New York conversation.

A Picture of Britain at the Tate - ah - that's what being British is all about. David Dimbleby and rolling mountains. David Dimbleby rolling down mountains. Grand. Will Young in the pissing rain at Kenwood - moist pork pies and bits of grit caught up in my little scotch eggs. Britain Britain Britain.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The Sunday Times said 'Originality has gone for a Burton' (side-clutchingly funny) while The Observer found Charlie 'Dark and delicious'. It's Roald Dahl...it's Tim Burton...it's Johnny Depp - how could this be bad it any way, shape or chocolate frog? It wasn't. And to have Grandpa Joe played by Albert, the one-armed washer-upperer from Robin's Nest was a treat beyond all candy.

I've decided to take evening classes in early Netherlandish painting. Still crazy after all these years.