Blogging is a bloody good idea. Honest. if you can be arsed to do it. Once upon a time I used to keep a regular diary; on paper; in a book; for several years. It doesn’t exist any more. It used to be the place where I could lay bare my soul and exorcise my raw libido. I was a teenager; and a randy one to boot.

But I destroyed it. I destroyed it because it was just plain embarrassing; cringeworthy. And towards the end there were huge gaps when I just couldn’t be bothered to write anything. And then there would be hurried catch-up pages trying to skim over the very exciting news of my life.

That’s what you’re seeing here. It’s literally years since I wrote anything in this blog. These days of course I’m not a randy teenager, just a randy grown-up. And life is not uninteresting: after all, I’m a prominent part of a world news organisation. But I forget about this; and there’s so much going on at times that I never get around to it. But I’ll be trying harder from now on. Honest.