A journalist is an out-of-work reporter. Musings on the workings of the world of journalism, from the new-fangled digital to good old thin stuff that makes your hands and face all inky. Tuesday, 22 November 2011. We all have our own weirdo. That person who rings at least once a week, proclaiming some controversy or other regarding the council, the NHS or some other organisation. Because the following morning, once th.

Saturday, 10 September 2011. At this point I was going to thank my readers for sticking with me to the end of the trip. Having finally figured out how to view the stats for the blog, I was amazed at how many people had wasted valuable seconds of their lives reading my drivel. I notice I even picked up one or two Russia-based readers once I started mentioning communism. Well, thanks a million folks. I love you, too. I studied the various ways people arrived at the site.

The end of an era. The successor to the McLaren F1 is finally here. How many Ferraris do you see? RIP Professor Sid Watkins.