When I made radio commercials for a big ad agency, I was always given the work experience kids. I remember one in particular – very nice but painfully shy. But over the course of the day, as we rushed round Soho, he relaxed. He told me his mum was an MP and his dad was AA Gill. What?? I was a huge fan. I loved his restaurant review that began “Where’s a suicide bomber when you need one?”. I loved his gloriously spiteful eloquence, his irrational loathing of the Welsh and his entirely rational loathing of Morrissey. By the afternoon, the kid had lost all his awkward shyness. AA Gill died yesterday and I only wish I’d kept the lovely letter he sent, thanking me for taking such care of his son. This appallingly Welsh record is for him because, as I can attest, not everything he wrote was spiteful.
The work experience kid.

- Columbia Road...7th May 2017
- I suppose it'...6th May 2017
- The local cou...5th May 2017
- The Duke of E...4th May 2017
- I always thou...3rd May 2017
- Another four ...2nd May 2017
- The sport to ...30th Apr 2017
- Quick drink w...28th Apr 2017
- The only thin...26th Apr 2017
- You know you'...22nd Apr 2017
- I'm not suppo...21st Apr 2017
- If you think ...20th Apr 2017
- Snap election...19th Apr 2017
- I'll never be...18th Apr 2017
- One more reas...17th Apr 2017 prev next