The problem is that come a sunny Sunday afternoon, it’s bloody full of bloody [...]]]> I only come into the Princi Bakery occasionally. In a lot of ways its a truly wonderful location. Big communal tables, boisterous atmosphere, eclectic music, free WiFi, and the cakes? Well let’s just say I might skip dinner tonight.

The problem is that come a sunny Sunday afternoon, it’s bloody full of bloody bourgeoisie and their bloody screaming children and their bloody strollers. How am I supposed to conduct my shabby decadent techno-bohemian life style if these people and their devil spawn will not sit down and shut up.

How do these people get here anyway? Teleport? We are in the middle of Soho for dogs sake. There is no SUV fit parking for a mile in any direction and I never seem to see them chivying their herds of progeny between the reckless Boho masses on Old Compton or Wardour St. Is there a tunnel in here from Chelsea or Notting Hill?

Its not just that they are annoying, although they are. It’s that they seem so distractingly out of place. It’s SOHO. This area has a long standing tradition of bohemian rebellion from the relentless capitalist drive of this wonderful city.

French intellectuals reading slim, leather bound volumes of Flaubert? Marvellous, fit right in. Coke frenzied media executives rabbiting on about the next BIG thing? Wonderful, I can tune out that noise no problem. Flawless Southern European Escorts coolly readying themselves for a night debauch? All for them, they give me something to look at lustfully that doesn’t contain 1,000 calories. Working, professional couples, their 2.75 offspring and mobile catalogue for Mothercare?

Please no.

These people seem to be making do until they can afford the weekend place in the country so they can get away from the “dreadful crowds in London”. This would be funnier, or at least less sad, if I hadn’t overheard someone actually saying it.

Grinding Teeth.

Those dreadful crowds? Thats YOU love. Could you go to the country sooner? Or at least get your children to STOP SCREAMING? Is that really so much to ask?

That you so very much.

My apologies to my single father mate, S (and other similar folk). His daughter, L, is perfectly charming and would be far better behaved in these circumstances. Unfortunately for my ears, not everyone raises their children as well.

Sadly it’s not just the calorie count that keeps me out of Princi. Although my waistline should be thankful.

– Post From My iPad

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Ok. EW!!!!

Lets face it. She’s been buried a while, so unless someone did a better job of embalming her than they did of Lenin, she is probably [...]]]> India and Albania are currently having a squabble over the remains of Mother Teresa – Nun, Nobel Laureate and perpetual Jan to Princess Diana’s Marcia.

Ok. EW!!!!

Lets face it. She’s been buried a while, so unless someone did a better job of embalming her than they did of Lenin, she is probably not it a particularly appealing state by now.

But its worse than just digging up a dead old* lady, because what this really comes down to is a squabble over tourism revenue. Follow me on this one.

Nun (now dead) did great things. Said dead Nun will turn 100 next August – well, it will be 100 years since she was born, but you know what I mean. She is likely to be made a saint, or canonised as they call it – which to be honest sounds to me like they will be shooting her out of a big gun. That can’t really be that respectful, or good for her. Even if she was alive it could be messy, but dead? Well lets just hope someone has wet ones.

That aside, now Saint Said-Dead-Nun, will have a sea of god botherers coming to pray at her graveside, asking for her intervention with god in their ailments, problems, business ventures, gambling – you know, the usual thing people pray about. And here is where I feel the sandal hits the pavement.

Where you have pilgrims you have not only a bunch of people looking for answers outside themselves (rather than inside where the answers are much more likely to lie) you also have retail opportunities.

I don’t recall anyone running forward arms outstretched to snatch the corpse of Said-Dead-Nun from India when there was just an expensive state funeral involved, but now there is an opportunity to sell tasteful things like Mother Teresa bobble heads, its all kicking off.

If Albania, who are making the fuss now, just want to honour Mother Teresa and pay respect to the things she did, where her dead bodies lies should not matter. Spend the money and the energy helping the poor, rather than having a diplomatic incident over it. Think about it for a second – what would SHE have wanted?

*are dead people still old?