ERII: “Scissors.”

McGuinness: “Stone”

ERII: “Bahh, you win…best of three?”

McGuinness: “Stone”

ERII: “Paper”

McGuinness: “Nice call Your Majesty.”

ERII: “The decider.”

McGuinness: “The decider.”

McGuinness: “Potato…”

ERII: “…Gun?”

McGuinness laughs, Liz guffaws.

ERII: “Fancy an arm wrestle?”

LOUISE MENSCH: THE SIMON COWELL OF POLITICS launched yesterday. It’s a take on twitter to take on twitter, or at least to turn tweeters into debaters. Whether it flies or not, it’s hard to deny Louise Mensch is the first female political mogul born out of blogging and social media.

Pert-cheeked and as groomed as a well-fed cat, she exerts an influence that outweighs her political nous but somehow we forgive her because she speaks with a truth and conviction and refuses to let anyone derail her train of thought.

Remind you of someone?

A high-waisted talent show cock-a-poo of a man, the Emperor Ming of Pop, Mr Cowell.

Given that Simon has a decade or so on Louise, we can map out her career from here on in.


287m tonnes – it’s the figure of the day. It’s also the collective weight of mankind, all 8 billion of us.

287m tonnes feels heavy when you plonk a cruise liner on the bathroom scales, but it feels pretty light when you weigh the entire living human race in one go.

But it’s still TOO HEAVY (as Brian Glover might say in the middle of a joke in the middle of American Werewolf in London).

The lazy media blames the African childbirth rate.

The angsty media blames obesity.

I blame those intent on a blame culture.

287m tonnes ain’t heavy.

The world’s cattle would leave us dangling up in the air on a seesaw, but at least we eat beef. And herein lies the answer.


If we eat each other, we can stem the global population, solve the food crisis and do untold good to our over-processed diet. Of course, we’d have to graze humans organically to keep the activists off our case and self-sacrifice would have to be a voluntary process as some of us would make better steak than others. And if we weren’t sure how to cook our kin and barbecue our neighbours, Heston could always shows us how to roast a mean longpig.

In time, restaurants will open and it’ll be big business – think last supper, cremation, funeral and wake all rolled into one slap-up feast.

Mmmm, where’s my napkin.


We’re all well aware Twitter is the fast food of publishing. It is a way of super-sizing your voice, at the expense of your psychological wellbeing. Or, it distracts you from living to such an extent, it shortens your life span.

But don’t let that put you off – hell no.

Besides, Twitter is about to launch Warble – a sister site with a minimum character count of 20,000. This slots it in about the essay, nudging harding on the dissertation, but still way short of a thesis. Warble will force us all to write arguments, and go 15 rounds with the heavyweights. It will underpin the wafer thin roots of its mother, Twitter. It will shed light and thought on complexities. Once Warble starts warbling, it will establish Twitter as the greatest Uncle/Niece double act that the world has ever told.

So, skim off the scum that congeals on the top with the daily discharge of Twitter and sharpen your brain to a new wavelength. Mark my words, within a year Warble will outgun Twitter and become the world’s most populous form of dialogue.


First, we had drought after a long dry winter.

Now, we have floods, after a wild wet June.

Next, we’ll have loss of wind due to a gusty summer or man-made fuck-ups, you choose.

If we take the blame for everything, we will end up in self-flagellation hell.

If we blame the weather for everything, we might just make hay once the sun shines again.

This ends the shopping forecast for hedge fund managers.