I did a wee bit of housekeeping and deleted a few names from my friends list this morning, mostly people who don't seem to be active in blogland anymore. If you didn't want to go, don't be offended it not meant as a snub, send me a PM and I will willingly have you back.

Right I'm off to cook some North African style meatballs with either cous cous or spicy cracked wheat, depending upon whats in the cupboard.

Gin Gibson at hand, cold beer in the fridge Robert Plant and Alison Krause on the stereo. One two three four....Went to the fortune teller.....

Spudsey Bear was recovering in hospital yesterday after an emergency four hour transplant operation when a donor organ became available to replace his alcohol ravaged liver.

Sitting by his bedside in a sparkling gown and a cheap publicity stunt, Saint Diana said: "It was touch and go while Britain's favourite ursine fought for his very life on the operating table.There were times when we thought the years of high living and celebrity parties had finally come home to knock the stuffing out of him."

Obviously tired after his stint wielding the knife Master Surgeon Tripe added "I'm not going to lie and say this wasn't a tough gig, complications meant that what should have been a routine operation almost lasted as long as one of those bloody awful French and Saunders Christmas show sketches that drag on for ages with only one decent punchline."

Spudsey shot to fame in the late 1980s in a worthwhile, but seemingly endless charity evening where soap stars failed dismally at being funny in lame contrived sketches. Knowing that they had hit a winning formula TV controllers endlessly reiterated the show, being quite aware that viewers will put up with any old low production value tripe when its for charity.

When asked for comment Shipscook said: "I'm delighted to see Spudsey on the road to recovery. I had every confidence in Master Surgeon Tripe, when liver goes under his blade he really knows his onions."