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London Tonight Tonight Thursday 3rd April

London Tonight Tonight Thursday 3rd April
Good afternoon.

Quilled creatures, especially hedgehogs, are a source of endless witty banter normally concerning the amorous side of their lives. There's also a good joke about the difference between hedgehogs and Parliament but, remembering the time of day, I'll keep that one to myself.
My favourite, which can be shared, is "How do hedgehogs make love?". And the answer is, as it was when I was at school and is now,  "Carefully". 
Chrissie tells you why the answer might also be "Early"... She is among the flirtatious tiggie-winkles at 6.

Do you flirt on the Tube? Ever been tempted? Ever done it, innocently? You may have been watched and analysed. And the man who may have been watching you reveals to Vaughan, for whom a ride on the London Underground was a real treat as they don't yet have them in Wales, how you can 'pull' like you have never 'pulled' before. Or not.

Pulling closer to Boris, but in a sephological rather than flirtatious way, is Ken Livingstone. How much closer? Put it this way, Boris is blushing. Harris, as always, is our man with the abacus.
Give ear to our little explainer about the People's Millions and you and your favourite charity may need to borrow Harris's abacus to count up to 50,000 - in crispy one-ers.

If Peter Woodhams' family applied they might chose Victim Support as their charity - they certainly need it. Despite warnings to the Police about previous assaults, Peter was fatally attacked. An Independent Enquiry has torn the Met to shreds over how they handled it all, and, cascading salt into the Woodhams' wounds, the criticised cops are back on the beat. Beats me, too. If sense can be made of it, Ronke will.

Finally two stories from my addled brain inside my aching head, now covered with less hair than yesterday having had a more successful journey to my barber in Jermyn Street today. Maybe it was the driver, after all...
Anyway, I digress.
I love National Hunt racing and I adore the Grand National. Women compete but men always take the honours - white men and, more often than not, Irish white men.
So, to see a young black guy from London seeking honours at Aintree is a real joy for me on so many levels. I'll have a fiver on him just out of celebration. And if he wins, I'll nominate him for Sainthood. Phil makes a fine stable lad.

Then there's Son of Rambow about which I know nothing. Although, the lead-in written by Faye, looking well short of the total of years she finally admitted to at the weekend, suggests it is ALL we are talking about.
It is a retro-youth-fest, an hommage to the Eighties. I will be with you on the learning curve at 6 when we introduce the stars to you, having first had them introduced to us. Katie probably knows them and knows all about it, but she is currently talking classical music on the other side of town, elegant polymath that she is, so I can't be sure.
But, hey, am I lucky or not?
Alastair for, and on behalf of, Katie.