You don’t want an arm wrestle.
What happened when I asked Jason Statham for an arm wrestle, for The Guardian
I think I saw Bobby Davro honk out Sex Bomb while dressed up as a waxwork of Fred West made of Weetabix and poo.
I’ve been trying, and failing, to work out what Your Face Sounds Familiar is all about, for The Guardian
It’s hard to overstate how much Pete enjoys exercise, too. Approximately a third of his kitchen space is taken up with colossal tubs of intimidating muscle supplements called things like Donkeykick and Thunderpunch. His favourite story is the one where he went to a meeting and his bicep accidentally ripped through his shirt in front of his boss. He’s one of my favourite people in the entire world, but he does have the teensiest air of steroid-inflicted murder-suicide about him.
I stood in for Charlie Brooker’s column this week, so I decided to introduce the world to my terrifying little brother. (From The Guardian)
To misquote Elton John, our candle had burned out long before literally anyone important in my life gave a billionth of a shit about it.
I bought a fake girlfriend on Facebook. And then cheated on her with another fake girlfriend on Facebook. And then dumped them. A biggish piece I wrote for The Guardian
The Nick Knowles of Nick Knowles’ Original Features is a different beast to the Nick Knowles of Nick Knowles’ other TV show, Nick Knowles Presents DIY SOS
I wrote a thing for Virgin Media. Can’t remember who it’s about, though.