As a concept, it's incredible that You're Back in the Room hasn't been thought of before. Maybe it has and no one from the other side had the common sense, bravery or foresight to green-light it. BBC executives will be regretting that decision now.
We're celebrating Andrew WK-style after another fantastic week on blogs, topping it off today by leading with Twitter king Phillip Schofield on how grown-ups should always be there for young people on behalf of the Prince's Trust and the Samsung Celebrate Success Awards, which are backed by The Huffington Post UK.
"When I was younger, I saw things no child should have to witness. I was hurt mentally and physically by people who were supposed to protect me. It is no exaggeration to say that there were times when I feared for my life." The above words are not mine. They belong to a young man called Shaun who I had the privilege to meet at the recent Prince's Trust and Samsung Celebrate Success Awards. There is no denying that Shaun's description of his childhood is distressing. As a father, I found it haunting.
Phillip Schofield may want to be the next hard-hitting journalist hack but it ain't gonna happen. His place is as a warm, friendly, popular culture television presenter; we want to see him giggling uncontrollably with Holly Willoughby about phallic shaped parsnips not leading a campaign against the government.
Chris Kerr possesses an air of watchfulness, borne perhaps from looking out into Berwick Street from the cutting board which sits at the front of his Soho shop. The spectacles he wears are of heavy acetate, the navy suit fitted with little give, the whole look rounded off by black brogues and a metal watch.
I went with my family to visit the grandparents during the Easter holidays. The weather was pretty poor so indoor activities like scoffing chocolate, watching TV and sleeping were the main pastimes. Suited me fine. One morning though, in a rare fit of energetic enthusiasm, we went swimming, at a nearby leisure centre.
For nearly eight years now people have stared at my face. In the street, on the tube, in shops, while I'm eating, it doesn't matter where I am, they can't help it. Some point, some laugh, most look on in admiration and sometimes, I'm sure I've seen onlookers weep steamy tears of joy when they look at me. The reason for this reaction is neither a grotesque affliction or that I resemble Brad Pitt. It is quite simply the Mo that adorns my face, big bushy and proud, combating prostate and testicular cancer by raising funds and awareness for Movember.