Usain Bolt, unequivocally the man with the world's fastest feet, may have proved himself a little slower on the uptake this week when, during an interview, he expressed his desire to purchase Buckingham Palace.
Mr Bolt, who holds the world records for the 100metres, 200metres, and the 4x100metres relay, was being interviewed for The Evening Standard when he was posed the question, which property would he most like to purchase in London? And instead of a nice swish glass-fronted apartment overlooking the Thames River or a three-storey town house with original Georgian features in Chelsea, he plumped for the Queen's house.
Now quite possibly this reporter is taking Mr Bolt's answer a little too seriously. Indeed the Jamaican born runner may be fully aware of the manifold obstructions which stand in the way of him buying the property which has been in the royal families hands since time infinitum, or such early date as this reporter can't quite be bothered to look up in a history book.
Mr Bolt may understand that inventing the world's most famous sport's celebratory gesture, the likes of which has not been seen since footballer Peter Crouch did the robot, is not enough to secure you the keys to a building in the monarchy's property portfolio. But then if this reporter had taken as red Mr Bolt's understanding of these limitations, and accepted straight out of the blocks he was in jest, then this reporter would not have been able to kill minutes of your precious time rambling on about it.
Sprinting across the pond and this reporter insists on making only passing reference to the meeting of American President Donald Trump with North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un this week in Singapore - a meeting which has been heralded as the most significant of our time, peace-wise, but which to this reporter looks more like a bid on the part of the world's two most narcissistic leaders to get maximum exposure, no matter which side of the warmongering divide they have to stand to do it. Just ensure, as Trump insisted, they look as "handsome and thin" as possible.
No instead this reporter wants to discuss the tale of Trump's document fixers - a real life story of a team of well-qualified, highly paid, former aides of the President, whose sole task it was to painstakingly stick back together all the documents which Trump had ripped up and wrongly discarded, so they could be rightfully archived at the White House.
The team, who have all since been sacked without explanation - they claim - revealed that whilst some documents had been swiftly ripped in half, others were reduced to nothing short of confetti and had to be sellotaped back together in what this reporter can only assume was the most thanklessly, laborious task since the invention of filo pastry.
Back over in Blighty and the clown show which is Brexit still rumbles on - the most 'entertaining' aspect being The Sun newspaper's choice of front page, which bellowed to MP's poised to rebel against Brexit: "You have a choice - Great Britain or Great Betrayal".
Not only this, but the front page was emblazoned with a quite extraordinary cut and paste collection of what The Sun sub-editing department evidently considered fitting "British" imagery to stir up lost feelings of patriotism in the heart of many a rogue MP. This included an image of Big Ben, the Angel of the North, the Shard and slightly more mysteriously, Mr Bean. One newspaper columnist added you may as well throw in The Railway Children's Jenny Agutter waving her knickers on a stick for good measure. But no we haven't got time for any of that either.
Instead we must discuss an item of news perhaps second only to the result of the Brexit referendum in terms of shock and devastation level, and that is the revelation queen of cakes Mary Berry has heartlessly ditched making Victoria sponge the old-fashioned way.
She says many people complain they don't have enough time for baking cakes - all that creaming in of the butter and the sugar - and she tells them, don't be silly, she no longer does it that way either. Instead she follows a five minute recipe which involves swapping out butter for sandwich spread, and whacking it all in a cake mixer.
This reporter suggests we focus less on the hurt and betrayal and instead on all that much-needed time we've saved. Time we can measure on our brand new Chopard watch. If you don't like it, use it as a down payment on Bucks Palace.
Mr Bolt, who holds the world records for the 100metres, 200metres, and the 4x100metres relay, was being interviewed for The Evening Standard when he was posed the question, which property would he most like to purchase in London? And instead of a nice swish glass-fronted apartment overlooking the Thames River or a three-storey town house with original Georgian features in Chelsea, he plumped for the Queen's house.
Now quite possibly this reporter is taking Mr Bolt's answer a little too seriously. Indeed the Jamaican born runner may be fully aware of the manifold obstructions which stand in the way of him buying the property which has been in the royal families hands since time infinitum, or such early date as this reporter can't quite be bothered to look up in a history book.
Mr Bolt may understand that inventing the world's most famous sport's celebratory gesture, the likes of which has not been seen since footballer Peter Crouch did the robot, is not enough to secure you the keys to a building in the monarchy's property portfolio. But then if this reporter had taken as red Mr Bolt's understanding of these limitations, and accepted straight out of the blocks he was in jest, then this reporter would not have been able to kill minutes of your precious time rambling on about it.
Sprinting across the pond and this reporter insists on making only passing reference to the meeting of American President Donald Trump with North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un this week in Singapore - a meeting which has been heralded as the most significant of our time, peace-wise, but which to this reporter looks more like a bid on the part of the world's two most narcissistic leaders to get maximum exposure, no matter which side of the warmongering divide they have to stand to do it. Just ensure, as Trump insisted, they look as "handsome and thin" as possible.
No instead this reporter wants to discuss the tale of Trump's document fixers - a real life story of a team of well-qualified, highly paid, former aides of the President, whose sole task it was to painstakingly stick back together all the documents which Trump had ripped up and wrongly discarded, so they could be rightfully archived at the White House.
The team, who have all since been sacked without explanation - they claim - revealed that whilst some documents had been swiftly ripped in half, others were reduced to nothing short of confetti and had to be sellotaped back together in what this reporter can only assume was the most thanklessly, laborious task since the invention of filo pastry.
Back over in Blighty and the clown show which is Brexit still rumbles on - the most 'entertaining' aspect being The Sun newspaper's choice of front page, which bellowed to MP's poised to rebel against Brexit: "You have a choice - Great Britain or Great Betrayal".
Not only this, but the front page was emblazoned with a quite extraordinary cut and paste collection of what The Sun sub-editing department evidently considered fitting "British" imagery to stir up lost feelings of patriotism in the heart of many a rogue MP. This included an image of Big Ben, the Angel of the North, the Shard and slightly more mysteriously, Mr Bean. One newspaper columnist added you may as well throw in The Railway Children's Jenny Agutter waving her knickers on a stick for good measure. But no we haven't got time for any of that either.
Instead we must discuss an item of news perhaps second only to the result of the Brexit referendum in terms of shock and devastation level, and that is the revelation queen of cakes Mary Berry has heartlessly ditched making Victoria sponge the old-fashioned way.
She says many people complain they don't have enough time for baking cakes - all that creaming in of the butter and the sugar - and she tells them, don't be silly, she no longer does it that way either. Instead she follows a five minute recipe which involves swapping out butter for sandwich spread, and whacking it all in a cake mixer.
This reporter suggests we focus less on the hurt and betrayal and instead on all that much-needed time we've saved. Time we can measure on our brand new Chopard watch. If you don't like it, use it as a down payment on Bucks Palace.
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