It’s a weird old world. Next time the ten’o’clock news ends, trawl through the channels, having turned down the volume because films screened late at night tend to include ‘discouragin’ words’ – to quote “Home On The Range”.
You needn’t get repetitive thumb strain searching for something truly bizarre.
Depending on what day of the week it is, you may be unlucky enough to land on a programme that is so ‘out there’ that, when I first saw it, I thought for a moment that my satellite aerial had picked up a rogue signal from one of those raunchy Italian channels that the late, great Clive James used to mock so brilliantly in his clip show.
The programme I’m referring to is “Naked Attraction”, made by Channel Four.
Basically it’s “Blind Date” without a wardrobe budget.
A group of naked girls stand in a line while a man decides which one he would like to take out. Then a girl inspects a line of naked men and decides which one she wants a date with.
Do you think the boys mentally dress the girls and vice versa?
After many years of reading my ramblings you know I’m no prude.
But, folks, I was shocked! Not by the show itself, which, having watched once I never need to see again.
No, what shocked me was, when I searched online to see how many viewers had complained about the show, there were, no pun intended, barely any.
Yet, I recently read that the main TV broadcasters have ‘cancelled’ Benny Hill and refused to repeat the comedian’s shows – which used to attract 18 million viewers – as they are deemed ‘sexist’.
Well, what’s more ‘sexist’ than a man eyeing up a line of naked women and choosing one to go out with?
The girls in Benny’s shows ran around in their undies . . . and he gets cancelled years after his death, while a UK channel screens a show featuring people parading around starkers* and no one cares.
It really is a weird old world.
*What happens when they go to work the next day?

I don’t know about you, but this year seems to have flown by faster than a cat chasing a laser pointer.
As a young lad, I distinctly remember those long, drawn-out summers where time crawled at a snail’s pace.
But now? It feels like I blinked, and suddenly it’s August 27th, with Christmas peeking around the corner like an overly eager relative at a family gathering.
Isn’t it fascinating how our perception of time changes as we age?
It’s like someone hit the fast-forward button on life.
Before we know it, that little black dress will be making its grand reappearance from the wardrobe, where it’s been hibernating. Dust it off, clean off the mothballs, and pray it still fits.
But let’s be honest, if it didn’t fit then, it’s probably not going to fit now.
I mean, I don’t own a little black dress . . . mine is red!
So, how will you be celebrating this year?
Will you be making up for lost time, seizing every opportunity to embrace life to the fullest?
Or have we all become conditioned to be cautious, staying home and keeping mingling to a minimum like it’s a new Olympic sport?
We certainly live in interesting times.
While life seems to be speeding by, I encourage you to reflect on whether you’re happy with and embracing every opportunity.
Are you ready to dance like nobody’s watching, or are you still perfecting your couch potato skills?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this one. Write in and share your experiences, let’s keep the conversation going and remind each other that life is too short not to enjoy every moment.

“It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish!” – so the song goes.
An impoverished childhood needn’t prevent people from becoming successful adults.
Not going to Uni doesn’t mean you won’t achieve your ambitions. Wealth and privilege can provide advantages, but lacking them needn’t hold anyone back, if they’re prepared to work hard and put in the hours to learn or develop their skills.
Are you familiar with the ‘10,000 hours’ theory which was popularised by Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outlies, based on research by Anders Ericsson?
Some people believe Gladwell suggested it takes 10,000 hours to achieve expertise in any field. But he’s been accused of oversimplifying the research, by Ericsson himself.
Ericsson points out that, while it takes a number of hours to acquire expertise, the quantity of the hours you devote to practicing a skill, developing a talent or simply ‘becoming really good at something’ isn’t as important as a deliberate type of practice, in contrast to casual or repetitive practice.
In other words, the 10,000 hours concept isn’t about the specific number of hours, but that the hours you put in, whether 10,000, 5,000 or 1,000, are focused, perhaps under the guidance of someone who already possesses those skills and talents.
But those hours must be put in, if anything is to be achieved.
A writer friend was asked for tips by an acquaintance who had a 9 to 5 job and ‘fancied writing a book’.
My friend said “Do what I had to do when I had a proper job. Write every night when you come home and put in the hours”.
For the next year, every time they met, his friend’s excuse for not putting pen to paper was “By the time we’ve had dinner, it’s nearly 10. Too late to start writing. Anyway, the ideas are all here in my head”.
Yes, 20 years later, the book’s never been started.
Even though he’s one of the world’s greatest guitarists. Eric Clapton is said to practice six to eight hours every day.
See what’s possible if you’re prepared to put in the hours?

Ah, opinions! They’re like mobile phones, everyone’s got one, and some really should consider putting theirs on silent.
In this whirlwind we call life, where change is the only constant, opinions evolve faster than fashion trends (and let’s be honest, some are just as questionable).
Living in a country that champions freedom of speech is fantastic, until you realise it also means the village idiot now has a megaphone.
Thanks to social media, we can share our thoughts without fear of the thought police knocking at our door.
But, with great power comes great responsibility, or at least it should.
Unfortunately, that memo seems to have gotten lost in the post, probably somewhere between “I love pineapple on pizza” and “vaccines cause aliens.”
Now, I’m all for a good debate, but when did we trade in thoughtful discussions for ALL-CAPS shouting matches and meme wars?
At this rate, friendly debate will be as extinct as the phone box.
Imagine a world where politicians kept their cool, respected their opponents, and, dare I say, had a sense of humour. Hey, I can dream, can’t I?
Speaking of humour, as a comedian, I often get asked what happens to jokes that aren’t funny. Well, they become politicians! (You didn’t think I’d resist that one, did you?)
But in all seriousness, education is key to keeping our debates balanced and informed.
There are always two sides to every argument, though some people seem determined to argue from the edge of the flat earth.
So, before you hit ‘send’ on that next social media rant, take a moment to think: do I really want to contribute to the noise, or could I aim for something a little more (er) sound?
Let’s keep the conversation lively, but maybe leave the shouting to the sports fans!

Someone once told me, “If you want to avoid falling out with people, never lend them money or give them advice!”
I was recently discussing the dangers of giving advice with a mate and he recalled the time an invitation arrived to (let’s call them) Derek and Dolly’s 30th wedding anniversary ‘do’.
On the back of the invitation, in Derek’s handwriting, was the message “We’re still together thanks to your advice”.
My friend explained to his wife that 20 years ago, Derek, an actor/singer, was starring in a touring musical that was visiting Cardiff.
My friend was working on a sitcom for Derek, so they’d meet every day at the theatre and my friend watched the show twice.
One day, between the matinee and the evening performance, they went for a quick meal and had barely sat down in the restaurant when Derek asked, “What do you think of ‘J’, my leading lady?”
My friend said “She’s talented, funny and absolutely gorgeous”.
Derek then blurted out, “We’ve been having an affair since Birmingham and I’m thinking of leaving my wife and moving in with her. What should I do?”
Talk about being put on the spot!
No expert on matters of adultery, somehow, from all the possible answers swirling around in his head, he found this one . . .
“Well, you could leave Dolly, but she and your children would hate you.
“Then suppose, in 18 months, you go on the road with a new show and you fall for your new leading lady. Will you leave ‘J’, the girl you left your wife for, to move in with the new one? You can’t keep repeating the same pattern every time you tour.”
On hearing his story, my friend’s wife said, “You’re not so daft”, and went off to make him a cuppa, with promises of chocolate biscuits.
She might not have thought so well of him if he’d revealed what he’d said, tongue firmly in cheek, to Derek outside the restaurant after the meal . . .
“Does ‘J’ have a sister, by any chance?”
Derek laughed all the way to the theatre!

In a world that often feels like a high-speed train to nowhere, it’s easy to get lost in our own busy lives.
But let’s take a moment to remember the magic of simple acts of kindness.
Whether we’re commuting to work or exploring new destinations, we encounter countless people who could use a sprinkle of joy, because who doesn’t love a good smile?
As the saying goes, “It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice.”
A warm smile or a genuine compliment can turn someone’s day around faster than you can say  “free Wi-Fi.”
And guess what?
Being kind doesn’t just brighten someone else’s day; it boosts our own happiness too! It’s like a double scoop of ice cream for the soul.
Kindness is a universal language that transcends cultural barriers and differences.
It’s the glue that holds us together, reminding us that we’re all in this crazy ride called life together.
So, let’s embark on our travels with open hearts and a commitment to spreading kindness wherever we go.
Remember, we never know what burdens others may be carrying.
A helping hand, a listening ear, or even just a friendly smile can make a world of difference.
So, dear readers, let’s become ambassadors of kindness, leaving trails of warmth and joy in our wake.
Together, we can create a tapestry of kindness that inspires generations to come.
Spread kindness, and watch the world blossom around you!

Although I get annoyed that once-common words are replaced by American ‘imports’, I realise language changes over time.
That’s why we don’t still say “Thee”, “Thou” and “Look out! There’s a dinosaur behind you!”
But there’s no excuse for British TV presenters and pundits to say, “I knew it wouldn’t work from the get-go’, instead of ‘from the start’?
When asked how they are, instead of saying “I’m fine”, they now say “I’m good!”
In cafés, I hear customers queuing at the counter say, “Can I get a…?” instead of “Can I have a…?” or “I’d like a…”
And I bite my tongue when a waiter/waitress tells me they’re going to ‘Grab’ a menu for me!
I find it fascinating how quickly new words infiltrate every part of the country – from Solva to Southampton and from Abergavenny to Aberdeen.
How does it happen almost overnight. Mass hypnosis?
Surprisingly, I actually have a favourite new word.
It’s one which I was first made aware of during a now notoriously awkward radio interview with a then-high-profile politician who was explaining her party intended to recruit (for the sake of argument, let’s say) 20,000 new police officers.
As she revealed the budget that had been set aside for this plan, either the veteran interviewer or someone speaking into his earpiece must have been hot on mental arithmetic, because while the politician boasted about the wonderful new plan, the interviewer said, “Err…by your calculations, Minister, each new police officer will receive an annual salary of £8,000. That can’t be right, surely?”
Annoyed that her figures had been challenged, she ‘tutted’, paused for a moment while listeners could almost hear the clicks and whirrs of the adding machine inside her head, and then came out with the now classic reply, “I mis-spoke!”
I’d never heard the word before and wondered if, like the police recruitment budget, she’d made it up in the taxi on the way to the studio.
If ever you’re ever accused of shouting something rude to a rugby or football referee, try explaining you ‘mis-spoke’ and see what happens!
I wonder if it’s possible to ‘mis-write’?

If there’s one thing we Brits love more than grumbling about the weather, it’s indulging in a good curry.
And guess what? Ammanford’s very own MyIndian not only warmed our hearts but spiced up some important taste buds.
They have snagged the title of Best Newcomer of the Year at the 2024 Asian Curry Awards. That’s right, folks, this isn’t just your average curry house; it’s the Messi of Masala!
But wait, there’s more!
After a little in-depth research (and a few too many poppadoms), I discovered that MyIndian has also made it into the top 100 restaurants in the UK for 2025, receiving this prestigious accolade at The House of Lords on July 17.
Talk about a success story that’s hotter than a vindaloo!
Armed with this knowledge, a rumbling stomach and sky-high expectations, I had to give it my own taste test.
Spoiler alert: they delivered. And I don’t just mean via takeaway!
But here’s the bigger picture: they aren’t just serving up top-tier tikka; it’s putting our town on the culinary map!
Supporting local businesses like this one doesn’t just keep us well-fed; it fuels our economy, builds community pride, and reminds the world we’re more than just a postcode.
Eat local, support greatness, and above all, bring napkins.
You never know which poppadom could change your life!
Let’s rally behind out local eateries and show the world what our towns are made of, one delicious bite at a time!

We’re halfway through the year and not one Christmas present has been bought.
By me, that is!
You might well have purchased your presents for next December 25th in the January sales, but I couldn’t face hunting for gifts I can’t afford for people who don’t need them, straight after New Year’s Day.
I can’t fret about what to buy my Uncle Cledwyn for next Christmas when he’s still sitting in my lounge watching a Morecambe and Wise Christmas special, while wearing a paper hat, nibbling nuts and drinking what he’s left of my vintage port.
When it comes to expressing my feelings about Christmas shopping (to quote the well-known expression), “I’m not backwards in coming forwards!”
I say it’s well-known, but I recently said it in front of someone who is either a Gen Z or a Millennial (I confess I’m not sure which is which), and they looked at me as if I was speaking fluent gobbledygook.
Except they wouldn’t have been familiar with the word ‘gobbledygook’.
I mentioned that certain words, phrases and saying are dying out to a mate who lives so close to Offa’s Dyke, he reckons he found the very spade Offa carelessly threw behind a hedge the day he finished the job.
He told me he’d received an e-mail invitation to attend the opening night of a small-scale theatre show in London and replied, “Thank you for inviting me, but unfortunately I won’t be able to attend as I’ll be working all day and it’s impossible to travel to and from London in an evening, living, as I do, in the sticks”
As the e-mail response was “Sticks?”, he realised he was communicating with someone under 30, so explained that ‘the sticks’ is a well-established reference to anywhere miles from London.
Well, it used to be well-established!
I’ll have to cut this short, as my Uncle Cledwyn’s car has just pulled up outside, which means he’s moving in for Christmas.
I know it’s months away, but he’s never been one to let the grass grow under his feet.
Waddaya mean, you’ve never heard that saying?

Ah, summer holidays. The time of year when parents dream of sandy beaches and children dream of endless screen time.
But with holiday costs skyrocketing, many families are left wondering if they should just pitch a tent in the garden instead.
After all, who needs a fancy resort when you can enjoy the great outdoors, complete with the sound of the neighbour’s lawnmower?
It’s no secret that holiday prices have gone through the roof, again, with some trips costing two to six times more during peak school holiday periods.
Many families see this as nothing short of exploitation.
And who can blame them?
It’s hard to enjoy a family getaway when you’re also juggling a mountain of debt and interest rates that could make a loan shark blush.
Gone are the days when valley folk would pack up the children and head to Porthcawl or Barry Island for a week in a charmingly damp caravan.
Remember those?
The ones where you had to trek half a mile to the toilet and endure cold showers?
Ah, the nostalgia.
And let’s not forget the joy of lugging a water butt back to your caravan, ensuring you had enough tea, coffee, and squash to survive the week, rain or shine.
While we may not miss the mouldy carpets and questionable plumbing, those holidays were character-building experiences that prepared us for life’s challenges, like navigating the local supermarket during a sale.
So, as we face the reality of inflated holiday prices, let’s remember that family time is priceless.
Whether it’s a back-garden campout or a trip to the local park, the memories we create together are what truly matter.
After all, who needs a beach when you have a garden hose and a good sense of humour?