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.
- No, no, I've ...16th Feb 2014
- Fed up with e...15th Feb 2014
- Ladies and ge...14th Feb 2014
- Why McCartney...13th Feb 2014
- Glorious love...12th Feb 2014
- The greatest ...11th Feb 2014
- Don't you hat...10th Feb 2014
- Knitting need...9th Feb 2014
- People from L...8th Feb 2014
- "Working in a...7th Feb 2014
- It's a nation...6th Feb 2014
- My mum worked...5th Feb 2014
- Yes, yes, we ...4th Feb 2014
- Whispering Bo...3rd Feb 2014
- The thing abo...2nd Feb 2014 prev next














