Living for pleasure alone, I like to get along to the movies every few weeks (the Bomber and I are due at Kung Fu Panda next weekend for example). Lately however whenever the curtain goes up at the Odeon I have the four minutes of gibberish above shoved down my throat without even the warning of a Pearl and Dean fanfare. I think I'll have to start turning up five minutes late.
Tim Westwood sets the gold standard, but almost every other night time Radio One DJ seems to be a half-wit who was regularly beaten with the ugly stick as a child as well. Trevor Nelson is the only one you could imagine talking to without entertaining thoughts of strangulation.