:: "Take me to the core of the Big Apple so I can spit out the Pips" ::

The spirit of Alan Partridge is alive and well. As Jude and I finlly booked our New Year tickets to visit L Russe Bezuhoff over the pond, those words of East Anglia's favourite toblerone-addicted broadcaster rang in my ears. Whilst we're unlikely to be needing directions to Bloomingdales, the warm winter woollies will be a definite must-have (I need to buy a muff!). It was parky enough when I last visited Bezuhoff in March.

Well the planned return to the social whirl has been erratic to say the least. A succession of damp squibs (no music at Wideboy's party; early doors for Dorset Diver and no tickets left for last night's film) has made for a frustrating time. Let's hope that tomorrow's bAsTaRd lives up to expectations. Here's the flyer, as ever:

Since i can't be faffing about with news at this hour, I'm sure you'll all be a little miffed. No really. At least with the aid of the swearasaurus, you'll be able to insult me in almost any language...

And how could I forget? It's Bonfire Night tonight. As ever I haven't planned anything in particular so will probably go home, have something to eat and fall asleep in front of the TV. At least those boys at b3ta have been making a special effort

And finally, in what is now becoming a regular feature, here are two more random search terms that came up with this site:
• asphyxiating russian ark
• "ferrero rocher" video ambassador's party

...which reminds me - have you booked your place at the Ambassador's reception on Saturday?!

And (as the be-pringled goon would have it) on that bombshell...