So! I’m late again. I’m sorry but what can you do when the day job takes over. I won’t dwell too much on it because I’ve got so many other things to talk about this week, which I’m sure you’re all so keen to read about. Indeed.

Firstly, the weekend just passed was partly devoted to one of my dearest friends’ birthday. Zee, honey, happy birthday again. You looked simply radiant on your special day, even if we both looked strangely similar in our matching attire. You see, Zee is the twin sister I’ve always wanted. You can throw any old adage at us – “two peas in a pod”, “joined at the hip” and “great minds think alike”, and you’ll still be baffled at the similarities.

Saturday night, at a restaurant in town, birthday girl turns up fashionably late to her own party and ‘fashionably’ is the operative word. Knee-high boots, mid-length skirt and a khaki velvety military jacket buttoned up. And that’s exactly what we both wore – and no! We did not consult each other – it was merely a scary coincidence. Weird… An even more bizarre discovery was one of her friends from work went to the same school as myself and her boyfriend knew half my former class mates because they lived on his road. Talk about it being a small world… So, it was a lovely evening but what wasn’t a lovely way to end the night was driving past a bloke peeing into a bin – and he was watching me watching him. Urgh! That’s just disgusting and what a (pardon my French) fucking twat!  And he looked like he was enjoying himself too, not like he was desperate to pee when there was a bloody pub across the road. Moron.

The second half of my weekend was in adoration of Channel 4 newscaster, Jon Snow. By now you ought to know I carry a torch for him. OK, a beacon then. Shiny Sonia spotted an exciting snippet of news in the paper about Jon Snow making a guest appearance at a gig in North London, so the pair of us eagerly marched to this Irish pub opposite Tufnell Park tube station. The time on the MySpace page of this band said 6pm, and we got even more excited knowing that Jon Snow lives down the road in Kentish Town. Look, it says so very clearly in his autobiography!

Entering the pub, heads turned (namely loads of old, Irish men enjoying a pint of Guinness or two) while we both sat at a table RIGHT BANG IN FRONT of this dodgy Irish duo singing folk songs. Badly. Neither of us were brave enough to ask them if Jon Snow was going to join them but I was personally delighted to see this pub served Lucozade. It must be the first one ever – certainly the first one I’ve come across.  Any way, half way through this pair’s ‘interesting’ set (fuck knows what they were singing about), an old man tapped me on the shoulder and mumbled something totally indecipherable.  I couldn't understand a bloody word so I ignored him and hoped he’d leave me alone.  He tried again later and it emerged he was asking me for a dance. Meanwhile Sonia was trying to control her fit of giggles at this point.  I just blurted out "No!" and turned away. Why me?!

Fortunately, a studenty-type bloke came into the pub, spotted us and came over to tell us that the actual gig was going to be happening next door – we were sitting in the wrong place altogether! Well I wish they made it bloody well clearer. We giggled that we came for Jon Snow and oh, our hopes were renewed. Doors opened at 7.30pm, we parked our behinds in a booth at the side of this huge room and then we waited. And we waited. Two support acts later, and absolutely bored and starving (and no Jon Snow in sight – I mean, his crop of white hair would just glow, wouldn’t it?), we gave up and went home.

It was alleged Jon would be performing with the headlining band which wasn’t going to be on stage till about 10pm. Well, you might all be students happy to loll about on a Sunday night but for the rest of us, there’s such a thing called work. And so we went home. Heart-broken and disappointed that we didn’t get to see and meet Jon Snow again. We tried to persuade Hungo to join us but he was far more content darning his socks (and probably pissing himself with laughter). Actually, I’m not even sure Jon showed up. Can you imagine him singing with some crappy, third rate unsigned indie band? It was probably a cunning ploy to attract punters to the gig (well, us two fell for it hook, line and sinker). Oh Jon! We really did our best. How’s that for dedication?

On an upbeat note, I’m delighted to learn the new series of Green Wing kicks off next week. Oh yes! After – what – a year and half from the first one. I’ve pre-ordered series one on DVD already. I suggest you do the same. I’m bowing out now…I apologise for the slackness but I hope the Jon Snow story made up for it.