On Amber and Alice.

Can’t make a post tonight. I just watched the final episode in series 4 of House in which Amber (aka Cutthroat Bitch) died.  Everybody’s upset, even though they all hated her when she was alive. House is upset because this was another fine mess he’d gotten her into and he couldn’t get her out of it. Wilson – Amber’s beau as well as the resident oncologist – is especially upset because now he has to go back to sleeping alone (which he did at the end without taking his jacket off.) Even I’m upset, for heaven’s sake, and I’m only watching from the sidelines.

This isn’t like me, but I was an Amber fan from the outset. She was too tall and too pushy for me, but she had character, she had balls, and she had style. RIP Amber.

So no post from me tonight, except to briefly mention that some overfed high flyer of an American politician called Pompeo is putting the word around that Trump was specially commissioned by God to watch little Israel’s back.

Well now, if I were the sort to want to visit the good old US of A (which I’m not, incidentally) I would be relieved to discover that it isn’t quite as far away as I thought it was. It’s just a short drop down that little hole over there by the tree. All you have to do is follow the furry white guy with the twitchy nose and whiskers and you’re there. No air fare, see?

And am I the only one who’s noticed that Pompeo is an anagram of me poop?