michael spicer

The 42-year-old from Kent shot to fame with his 'The room next door' sketches.
An important thing to remember in this scenario is to remain calm and confident. Women love a confident man and if you start to show a little anxiety or nervousness or perhaps even break down and cry because one of her punches spanked your Aviators clean off your face and into the road, you'll only succeed in turning her off.
If you listen to his detractors, Jeremy Corbyn is a monster who will divide and weaken the party, possibly even destroy it, and this is true but then again it's not true at all. In fact, these nightmarish forecasts are nothing more than hysterical guff with no weight behind them and this is why we must take them seriously.
A Ukip member saying something controversial is not news. It would be news if they said something calm and measured. It would be news if they constructed just one sentence that didn't resemble a drunken scrawl on the toilet wall of a police station in 1974. If we all turned the other way, news editors might think twice about covering...
G4S, the private security firm that sounds like a carving in a wood tree, has refused to class a riot in its Oakwood Prison as a 'riot', despite the fact that scenes one would normally associate with rioting were witnessed by prison officers such as upturned pool tables, random things being on fire and prisoners shouting 'This is a successful riot we're currently engaged in.'
As one of my favourite TV shows of all time comes to a close, it's worth examining why it deserves to be written about by someone like me.
A delightful little film that takes the Subbuteo ball and runs with it, 'Falcon Of Fury' was directed by John Panton and
For those of you who don't know, I'm a superhero. I'm not bragging. It's a fact. I'm different from you.
It sounded simple to me. I wasn't intimidated by her visit at all. As a 10-year-old, my knowledge of her was limited to a frozen face encased in a box graphic above Michael Buerk's shoulder. But the nervous exhilaration emanating from the wobbly throng surrounding my dad's shop was enough to power the No.62 to Chadwell Heath and back again.
I remember being overwhelmed with jealousy when I discovered Google's Streetview cars were collecting wifi data. I wanted to be in that car. I wanted to be that car, absorbing passwords and social profiles and browser histories like a glorious, four-wheeled, authoritarian digi-sponge.