Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone. It seems we have reached the end of an era. According to today's Sunday Times' Style magazine barometer of what's hot and what's o-v-a-h, the GBF (Gay Best Friend) is done, replaced by the BMF –  Best Man Friend. I'll assume they mean that the BMF is a straight man. Straight men are "men" and gay men are "gay". I think that's how it works. Anyway, ignoring that every so slightly acidic twist of the heteronormative knife, here's why I'm glad my services as a...

Wimbledon fortnight starts Monday, one of the Top 10 shrillest sporting events on the face of the Earth. Despite the fact it is a magnet for braying upper middle-class Aga enthusiasts and certified poshoes who think even the Queen is too common for the Royal enclosure, I love Wimbledon. It’s really easy to watch – just the right ratio of dullness to nail biting tension. Plus tennis players are much more bangable than football players. My 'love affair' with Wimbledon properly began as I waited to start my second year...