Doctor Manhattan

Not another fucking draw? I'd take the point now, tbqhwy.

1. Stiff Little Fingers – Inflammable Material 2. The Adverts – Crossing the Red Sea with The Adverts 3. The Stranglers – Rattus Norvegicus 4. Dead Kennedys – Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables 5. The Jam – All Mod Cons Is 5 punk? Close enough, I'd say.

My head knows it's insulation, but every time I see it I can't help hearing the Cresta bear...

Play the first half in Dundee, then if the pitch is fucked everyone has 30 minutes to get to Perth for the second half, Death Race 2000 style.

A "US-based family". It's the Glazers, isn't it?

For those of a certain age, it's a relatively recent development designed to elicit not "what you know" but "what you know you know", and how your learning and self-actualisation might be bettered going forward. If you've already passed the actual exams/coursework with flying colours it's the icing on the cake. If you're on a borderline pass/fail situation, it can actually tip the balance for you one way or the other. "Aye, turns out I know f**k all, but I'm smart enough to realise that now and I promise to study more next time rather than pissing the whole term away down the snooker club."

Easily fixed. Fire Celtic and Rangers into a central African league (or the sun, either works for me) then have two divisions of 18, with 9 promoted/relegated every season. Well, a man can dream...

It's funny how everyone seems to want a rare away day when the third round cup draw comes along, but is presumed to be just fine about playing Ross County or St Johnstone (or Motherwell, of course) four times a season. You seldom hear anyone saying, "Brilliant, it's Livingston again tomorrow!"

ToO mAnY MeAnInGleSS gAMeS

What's the difference between this game and the eye-bleeding fare served up at Fir Park yesterday? About £2bn.

You're right, and I would like to offer my apologies to anyone who was offended by what was merely a bit of light hearted banter designed to take our minds off the eye-bleeding fare served up at Fir Park today.

You're taking this WAY too seriously. Any dog-eating slur was aimed at Paisley, although I'm heartened you took the time to Google "Yulin".

You were saying?

You sure you don't mean "a Yulin vibe"?

See, that's something I hadn't thought of. It would still be pretty stupid, even if accidental, but still infinitely better than explicitly asking "Would you like yours with or without?"

I bought two small 99's not long back from a van in Luss, and in came to £12.

A laudable aim. Shame, though, I found it a nice distraction from the tedium of Wrexham v Mansfield. Toodle pipski.

I think it's 7 years, but it was more a question about the principle than the practice. If I won a million on the lottery, what's the difference between me gifting it to my kids now (assuming I don't die soon afterwards) as opposed to waiting until I die and seeing 40% of it disappear in IHT? Questions about social equity, while obviously relatively inseparable, weren't uppermost in my mind when I posed the original question.

This argument seems to imply that not only should government/society/whoever dictate what happens to your money after you die, they can also proscribe what you can do with it at any time while you're still alive. Where's the line to be drawn between buying your kids an ice cream and buying them a house? (Or at least helping out with the deposit?) The distribution of wealth (both absolute and relative) is a subject that long predates communism, and maybe even capitalism itself. Did you ever read Aristophanes' "Plutus"?

For those in a position to do so (not me, for the avoidance of doubt) what's the difference between helping your kids while you're alive, as opposed to doing so after you're dead? Surely all that a 100% inheritance tax would accomplish would be to skew things towards the first option.

Without carrying out any actual analysis, it feels as though almost every single guest Jools Holland has ever had on his show qualifies. Also, Jools Holland himself. If he was any further up himself he could lick his own tonsils.

Who gives the slightest shite about Northern Ireland? Oh, right...

No. Just...no.