Good afternoon.
Dutch trikes. The heritage of Basildon. And a cacophony of anti-Boris fervour that went on and on and on - three of the oddities that we have for your enlightenment, entertainment and edification tonight.
But a dark moment from our meeting that I have to get out of the way first.
Faye, looking quite stunning in an elegant "little black dress", as I think such a classic frock is known, said: "I have seen a couple of very peculiar films this morning". What led her to this troubling conclusion? She was doing it for work, I have to add, but the shock was palpable. Is she in mourning for Yves St. Laurent? (The dress is certainly appropriate). Or is there some darker motivation? Damien, with what are called the BOBs, will explain and you will be glued, if not a little disturbed. We will ask for your judgment.
The stewards of public money must make constant judgments: the Lottery Fund and Primary Care Trusts are up there with those facing some of the toughest decisions. So which of the following two do you think got the thumbs up and which, like a Christian in the Coliseum, was thrown to the lions: a heritage tour of Basildon or a new, Stephen Hawking-esque voice box for a woman student with a severe case of cerebral palsy? Alas, you can't vote because I feel confident you'd come up with a more sensible outcome. Marcus and Phil battle it out with their reports on the sublime and the ridiculous. Be informed and irritated at 6.
Ant and Dec informed you who you had voted for at the end of Britain's Got Talent on Saturday night. Were you, like me, irritated that the young girl with the "world-class voice", to quote Simon Cowell, didn't make it to the final three? As Churchill said, democracy is the least worst option for deciding things and I guess we must grin and bear it. George, the winner, is a delight and I am sure the Prince of Wales will delight in his rendition of Singing In The Rain - he might even get his Church's brogues splashed in the process. We give you a reprise and meet several of the also-rans in the company of one of our real winners, Miss Lucy Cotter. The Americans say that the silver medal goes to "the best loser". Harsh but true. These talent contests are a vicious thing and I am surprised the dog didn't win simply from a viewers' health and safety point of view.
Jon Gilbert meets some women who have invested in Dutch trikes. A gardening implement? A rare tulip? A strange continental perversion? You'll have to watch to find out and the children are quite safe. So long as they are strapped in...
Mourinho, The Special One, and Gazza, the Once Special One, are both in the news: if you're interested you'll be interested; if not, it doesn't take too long.
Finally, had Boris been on the tube late on Saturday, no amount of hanging from the straps would have saved him from the aural onslaught heaped upon him by the badly behaved boozers marking the end of their reign of terror. Bob Crow says "I told you so". Boris is, unlike the drunk revellers, remaining mum. It was rather nasty and Bob has the evidence. Egg on Boris's face? Has the tide of unquestioning warmth toward the new mayor turned? Harris dons his striped costume and bathes in the dangerous waters of political promise meets 30-degree-proof reality.
See you at 6.
Alastair and Katie.
