I love Ted Lasso. I quite like Ted Lasso. The series. But I cannot stand Ted Lasso. The character.
Author: Jaci Stephen
Sandra Oh was in orange, described by ‘E’ as ‘the least worn color on the carpet.’ Yep. There’s a reason for that. It’s the color you share with your toilet bowl after a heavy night on the town.
If your penchant is for flap front, you should rein your fetish in – yes, it’s a totally weird fetish in my book – until you get home, where you can make origami sculptures out of toilet tissue, should you so please. But when you’re in my house, you have to live by my flaps, strange as you may find them.
I feel about Valentine’s Day the way Dickens’s Scrooge felt about Christmas. Bah humbug, I scream, when yet another card from a florist pops through my door, asking me to send flowers to my loved one. Bah humbug to the red hearts, ribbons and grinning teddy bears in every shop window.
There were also some really left of field ads in the mix, including one for VMS menopause relief. That’s something of a mind leap to go from shouting, ‘Great touchdown!’ at your screen to, ‘What can I take for my night sweats?’ The Superbowl should be a place where women of a certain age can for a few precious hours not be reminded of how vile growing older is.
Humans have long been fascinated by the Moon and a full Moon is undoubtedly one of the great beauties in the sky. But does its cycles, as many believe, affect human behavior? Can its waxings and wanings really teach us things about ourselves? I was keen to find out.
They say you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince. Having worked my way through pretty much the entire amphibian world on three continents and sucked the life out of every toad imaginable, I’m still no closer to finding anyone I’d want to spend my last croak with.
Sadly, in the cloud of political correctness, the best movie of the year has been obliterated. I defy you ever, in your lifetime, to see a more brilliant work of art than Mark Mylod’s The Menu.
The only reason I went to see Tom Stoppard’s play Leopoldstadt last week was that it would give me 130 minutes’ respite from Howling Harry.
Hollywood has always presented itself as a great moral arbiter. As they did last night, actors take the opportunity, in their speeches, to lecture everyone else about what they should or should not be doing – before they get in their Bentleys en route home.