As a quick follow-up to last week’s article about ‘Trigger Warnings,’ I understand that the people at Disney have decided that from today, before every TV showing of their classic Winnie The Pooh featurettes, there’ll be a ‘Tigger Warning’.
I suppose I should have included that little joke last week, but there’s a good reason why I didn’t.
I only thought of it last night.
I hope you appreciate I used the correct term ‘should have’ and not, as I increasingly hear and even see in print and online – ‘should of’, which is the sort of lazy use of language that sets my teeth on edge.
Not as much as they were last week when I overheard someone in the supermarket remark, “I says to him, I says, ‘Who does you think you is’?”
Why do so many people now say ‘should of’ when they wouldn’t have been taught that at school?
And they wouldn’t be saying it if they’d seen the term written in a book, magazine or newspaper, correctly spelt by someone with a knowledge of English grammar.
Well, you and I both know the answer to that.
There’s now a generation, maybe more than one, that get their views, news and opinions from social media, generated by people like them who are averse to picking up a book or newspaper.
So, it only takes one person to write, for example, “My boyfriend should of met me at six o’clock, but he was an hour late”, and their followers, and their followers’ followers will perpetuate the error.
Ah! I hear one or two of you ask, “In the grand scheme of things, is correct grammar important these days?”
I can best answer that by ending with a paragraph I’ve deliberately peppered with ‘bad grammar’.
Last week I artended a confrense of lokal bizziness peepill to disgust a bran knew skeem that ayms to cre-eight a fab’less leizure complecks that will evenchewally h’attract thousands of two wrists and boots the arias ekonomee.
If I wrote my articles that way every week, you’d all be running to the dentist with painful teeth!

Let’s face it, my friends, creativity is a wild ride, a rollercoaster of ideas that often feels more like a clown car spilling out one-liners than a disciplined writing process.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been hauling around my trusty little black book.
No, it’s not a secret agent’s diary, though that would be cool.
Instead, it’s my personal vault for every fleeting thought and ridiculous observation that flits through my mind, like a butterfly on a sugar high.
You see, if I don’t jot down every spark of brilliance, those gems disappear faster than a magician’s rabbit. Poof! Gone! And trust me, I’ve had enough “oops, that was a great idea” moments to know that my little black book is a treasure chest of lost genius.
I’ve become a collector of these books, with a staggering 60 scattered throughout my house. I even keep one by my bed because, let’s be honest, the best ideas usually strike just as I’m about to fall into a drooling sleep.
But, here’s the twist, my writing speed is so fast that my notes sometimes resemble ancient hieroglyphics.
I could probably start my own archaeological dig to decipher my own thoughts!
It’s a thrilling adventure, akin to solving a mystery novel, but instead of a detective, I’m just a frazzled writer trying to remember what “chocolate unicorn” was really supposed to mean.
Yet, despite the chaos, this quirky obsession brings me immense joy.
One day, I’ll crack open these whimsical time capsules and embark on a journey through a hilarious history of my mind.
Sure, nostalgia is like that one friend who always shows up late to the party, but still knows how to make an entrance.
So, here’s to the wonderfully zany world of creativity, where every laugh, scribble, and chaotic thought is part of the show.
Keep your little black book close, embrace the madness, and prepare for a comedy of memories that will leave you chuckling (or scratching your head) for years to come!

As someone with their finger firmly on the pulse of modern trends, you’ll be aware that the streaming service ITVX has started to put a (Oh, how I just love the expressions!) ‘Trigger Warning’ before they screen every old episode of Midsomer Murders.
Since it began on ITV One in 1997 there have been 133 episodes of Midsomer Murders across 23 series.
I’m not a massive fan, but I’ve watched quite a few and they make pleasant enough Sunday evening viewing with a pot of tea and a pile of sandwiches filled with chicken leftover from Sunday lunch – especially those made during the John Nettles years.
The episodes, I mean. Not the chicken sandwiches!
I don’t know if ITV One are making a new series, but ITVX are warning viewers that their repeats of a show called Midsomer Murders, which feature the depiction and investigation of murders (usually a minimum of two – maximum of three per episode) . . . ‘May contain scenes of violence’.
‘May’?
Frankly, when I watch murder mysteries, I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t a murder in it that featured a splash of the red stuff.
Because it’s a TV drama and not a documentary!
We know the actors aren’t really murdered, get up to ask “Was that alright?” and unless they’re required to die again, they go home.
‘Midsomer’ is well known with fans of this genre for dispatching victims by ludicrously contrived methods, which include being fired from a giant catapult and being pelted by bottles while staked out on a lawn.
To be clear – they were two different murders in two different episodes!
If this amiably daft series has a trigger warning, shouldn’t other TV programmes?
Like party political broadcasts?
“The following programme features a professional windbag full of empty promises!”
Or any of those ‘Psychological thrillers’ spread over four nights . . .
“This terrible series is badly written, atrociously acted and you’ll guess the ending within the first 10 minutes!”
And let’s not forget “The One Show” . . . although I try.
“Doing the washing-up will be more entertaining and enlightening . . . so go and do that instead!”

Recently, I found myself reluctantly floating 2,000 feet above the picturesque Oxfordshire countryside in a hot air balloon.
Now, let me clarify: I didn’t exactly volunteer for this sky-high escapade; it was more of a ‘friends’ enthusiasm’ situation. But hey, who doesn’t love a good adventure, right?
As dawn broke, the weather was impeccable; perfect, in fact, for an airborne frolic.
My pals were bubbling with excitement, while I donned my best ‘enthusiastic’ mask, courtesy of a recent improvisation workshop. Spoiler alert: it worked like a charm!
Once airborne, the sights were nothing short of breathtaking.
Floating gently with the wind, we marvelled at the rolling hills and quaint villages below.
It’s amazing how a little elevation can provide such a calming effect, like yoga, but with a better view and no need for a yoga mat!
The 90-minute flight zipped by in what felt like mere moments, a clear sign that I was, surprisingly, enjoying myself.
But let’s talk about the landing, which, I assure you, is a story worthy of a blockbuster movie.
Picture this: an unscheduled bounce, some enthusiastic ground crew antics, and me, clinging to my dignity as tightly as I clung to the basket.
I’ll save that tale for another day, unless the editor is willing to sweeten the deal!
So if you ever get the chance to soar through the skies, take it!
Just remember: landing might require a bit more finesse!

Life is full of surprises – as the Dalek discovered when he tried to get frisky with a dustbin.
Driving around Wales, I sometimes see road signs that surprise me. Not in a “Ooh! I wonder what that means?” way.
No. I get surprised by the pointlessness of some signs, as I was last week when I was travelling on a country road that took me alongside a picturesque river and I saw a sign that warned drivers “Weak Bridge Ahead”.
As I got nearer the bridge that crossed the river, I could see it was very old, perhaps well over 100 years old. That’s a century’s worth of traffic, from the days of horses and carts to horseless carriages right up to today’s lorries, buses and electric cars.
No wonder it was feeling a bit weak.
As I drove over the stone bridge, I thought to myself, “If this bridge is weak, why, has it been here for decades. Hasn’t anybody thought about doing something about it? You know . . . like strengthening it?”
I know I have a tendency to look at matters that interest and/or annoy me with rather too much cold logic for some of you.
But it occurred to me that by putting up a ‘Weak Bridge’ sign, the local council (who believed their duty had been done) were at best lackadaisical and at worst irresponsible.
Because in the time it took the council to have a couple of meetings to discuss the merits/costs of a “Weak Bridge Ahead!” sign, getting it made and put in place by half-a-dozen council employees, watched by representatives of the Highway Department, a couple of Health and Safety Executives and the Mayor (disappointed that the sign wasn’t encircled by a ribbon he could cut with his ceremonial scissors), local builders could have put a joist under the bridge to prevent it being weak.
For another 100 quid they could have filled the cracks with fresh cement.
And don’t get me started on road signs that warn, “Slow! Men Working!” . . . and for the next three miles there’s no sign of any men working slow . . . or fast!

In a shocking twist that would leave even the most seasoned calendar aficionados scratching their heads, a Welsh supermarket has decided that August is the perfect time to roll out the Halloween decorations.
Yes, you read that right!
While most of us are still sweating through summer, this store, let’s just say it rhymes with Dee and Yem, has transformed its aisles into a fright fest filled with plastic masks, costumes, and more ghoulish goods than a graveyard sale!
As a long-time observer of retail madness, I can’t help but wonder: what’s the point of a calendar when Halloween is creeping into our lives two and a half months early?
It’s enough to make anyone scream, though not necessarily in delight.
With many families struggling to pay rent and keep the lights on, it’s baffling that shops are pushing plastic skulls over practical support for food banks.
Imagine if all those parents who flock to buy cheap costumes and sugary treats instead donated that cash to help families in need.
Talk about a Halloween spirit with a twist!
Who knew that a simple costume could distract from the real horror of food insecurity?
So, as you ponder whether to don that Pennywise mask or help your local food bank, remember: giving a little might just be the most spine-tingling change we can make this spooky season!