Sharpies My old mate Pistol is known for, once he has a skinful on him, showing the lads how the Sharpies used to dance in his youth. Now I'd never heard of Sharpies and I kind of thought they were something Pistol made up to excuse his dancing moves. Then, in the latest edition of Vice Magazine, there were a series of photos by Aussie Snapper Rennie Ellis and among them was this shot, which made me laugh out loud because I can totally see this motley lot doing the type of dance Pistol described. Then I was just laughing at the memory of him dancing like that, mind you... There's some real ordinary, honest gold among these shots, I found. I especially liked this colour one of some kids at Burleigh Heads in 1978 that really brought to mind the video that Elvis posted at Photosushi recently. I recommend all of you of a certain age watch it.

Progress I've been a bit slack but here's the latest pic of the wee man. He's doing fantastic. Watching his progress, the tiny little skills that you sometimes think humans can just do, is fascinating. He's like a wee science program. He's full of smiles, laughter, excitement, curiosity and drool and truly is the light of our lives. There's the thing right there - a cliche like that came to my lips as easily as any words ever did and I don't feel even remotely like a cock for saying it.

Britain's Vainest Man "We've got a big bed coming cos I'm a big guy, yeah? and sometimes I might have more than one female in the bed, yeah?" Well, my nights' viewing last night included a documentary called "Britain's Biggest Spenders" which lifted the lid on a peculiarly modern British hubris. Basically what it is, right, is people who've not had any money suddenly get heaps of it and make a total arse of themselves. Nothing new in that, right? But the kicker is that this condition of new wealth appears to bring about the onset of a peculiar brand of myopia whereby it is impossible for the victim to see that the rest of the world, particularly people who make TV documentaries, are taking the piss something terrible and generally laughing loudly at the nouveau riche monkey in the Prada outfit. Now on this show we met a chap called Scott Alexander. Scott is rich and big. "I'm a big guy" said scott. "That's how we roll" said Scott of his diamond-rusted Rolex "it's sick" he said of several items of his clothing. He's a huge brute who was a personal trainer to the stars but is now best described as either a mogul or a tycoon. I'm completely entranced by Scott. He's my new fascination for the week and I'v made it my business to take a good look at his act. He, like pretty much everyone else who's ever had plastic surgery, wants TV stardom pretty badly. He starred in this documentary and, on the back of it, apparently took to the couch of every chat show in the land to talk about himself, his beauty, his wealth and anything else to do with himself. He even went on Russel Brand which is a good, if blatant, example of the kind of pisstake he is willing to stand for the sake of TV minutes. Check it out here. Scott, in the show, had a shiny cap of thinning jet-black dyed hair, perma tan, the ubiquitous dazzling white uni-denture that every makeover now includes and wore he most fascinating clothes I've ever seen. There are clips from the show on Youtube, for example this and this. Oh, it's all so David Brent it's not funny. Gervais should see this, actually. I encourage anyone who sees value in a man so upwardly mobile, to punch the man, the name, the number, into Youtube and take a look at the offerings. So yes, Scott "No1" Alexander is my new muse and you might be hearing more about him here. In the meantime, I would like to point you all to his personal website which, tellingly perhaps, bears the URL scottalexander.tv. We reckon Scott wasn't happy with his look after seeing the docco because in every photo or appearance since, pretty much, he's had the blonde crop in place of the thinning dyed-black Guido-do. Notice especially, if you will, the links to all of his TV appearances down on the left and I personally recommend the "Become Successful" section of motivational bon mots. "We've got a big bed coming cos I'm a big guy, yeah? and sometimes I might have more than one female in the bed, yeah?"

No Way Sis I'm as critical as anyone of Oasis' last few derisory recorded outings and hey, I'd like to see them pack it in and Noel Gallagher make the solo album I've been waiting decades for but I'm only an armchair critic. Someone in Canada has apparently become incensed by the state of affairs and has had a right go! I love how Liam gives it the schoolyard "holdmebackman!" antics but stops short of actually landing a blow! Hahaha, ten seconds earlier he's spitting and posturing and generally looking hard as nails. If someone lamped your brother, wouldn't you instantly go in heavy til you marked them? Sadly, my first instinct was to re-watch and find out if it was an old Canadian mate of mine TK who's a stage invader from way back and was probably even in the audience. It wasn't him.

Holden Sharing the iTunes library of one of the runners in Berlin, I came across the album "Chevrotine" by Holden - a French outfit I'd not heard of. One song on the album "Ce Que Je Suis" grabbed me - and it's the one playing in the background on their site which you can find here. You can also catch the video for it here on Youtube.

A Wee Cheeky Tagine For oor tea the night, we're having a wee beef Cinnamon tagine that we tried about a month ago and which was lovely. We don't have these little hatted tagine dishes, mind, but one more go around with this recipe as tasty as last time and we might become right tagine-headz and have to set ourselves up with just such a pointy Moroccan rig. The main recipe can be found here but there are tons of them and I've already butchered this one up pretty bad - throwing in a pinch of smoked Spanish paprika and replacing the raisins with more traditional dates and even a wee splash of Cab Merlot which rounds out the cinammon a little and adds some depth. If anyone has had any success with a tagine recipe, I'd love to hear about it. We went for tagines at a Moroccan place in East Berlin last year on a winters' night and lord above - it's the business - stick tae yer ribs as my mam would say.