Shall I be like Gibbs, or just be myself? Because I believe in coincidences. As I started writing all this, I just needed a few more facts (not that facts ever made a blog post better, of course) and found to my delight that it’s Craig Ferguson’s birthday today. Actually. He’s a mere boy at 48, and I see he’s from Cumbernauld, which is where we went to that petrol station back in February where the builder man filled up his bucket with water for the cement mixer from the tiny wash-handbasin in the toilet using a coffee paper mug. It took absolutely ages.
That’s Cumbernauld for you. Other than that the petrol station was very nice. So was bucket-man. Polite. And Craig Ferguson is lovely, too.
So, it seems he’s been given the Peabody Award. Craig, not bucket-man. I’m used to him interviewing Mark Harmon, but apparently he got it for Desmond Tutu, who is a very entertaining man, and would be a credit to any talk show. He certainly was when I saw him in Gothenburg a few years ago, but that could have been down to a sudden surfeit of Archbishops.
Back to Cumbernauld-boy. When he and Mark Harmon were allowed on the show week before last, they praised each other so much that I smelled a rat. Mark said how proud he was of Craig, and Craig in turn complimented Mark on his gorgeous hair. Mark managed to advertise BMW on air, and said he might count as clean depending ‘on your definition of clean’. Newly washed, perhaps?
I think there may have been a purpose to this blog post when I began, but I have to admit it’s gone now.
Oh, I know. It was the fact that Mark has had time to read books recently, after filming NCIS stopped for the summer. Hope it was one of Craig’s.
It’s good to read.