What Damage? Sienna Miller - The Naked Truth

So it turns out that the Geriatric Wankers Weekly really was hacking loads of phones after all. Comme on dit en francais, 'Quelle bloody surprise.' This does give us the chance to post a gratuitous snap of Sienna Miller under the guise of newsworthiness. Which will probably cause a mysterious increase in the number of hits the blog receives today, particularly as I contrive to incorporate the word 'naked' into my text. I regard anything that brings The Overgraduate to a wider audience as justifiable. It is for the greater good.

Because La Miller is at the heart of something that is mystifying me. The GWW has apparently offered to pay her a hundred grand in damages for the breach of her privacy. Now the GWW was surely breaking the criminal law in what it did and nobody will shed a tear if the whole excrement scented shower of them get put away - and that includes Andy Coulson who it would appear is either an egregious liar or an unbelievably lax/incompetent editor, neither of which is going to be an ornament on his CV you would think. But, and this is the bit I'm struggling to understand, how did Sienna suffer a cool hundred thousand's worth of damage as a result of what they did. Or indeed any of the other great and good who are queueing up to have a dip into Rupert's money. We note, by the way, that the lovely Max Clifford (who does at least choose to be well advised) has accepted the coin already proffered to him by GWW's retained shisters - definitely a good move since it is difficult to imagine anything that might have been published which in any way lowered him in the public estimation and thereby caused him damage. But lo, what is this I see - it is a judge talking some sense. Have a read and dig it out of the BBC report because this aspect of the tawdry spectacle will not get much attention. Being clever and a judge are not mutually exclusive - something else you won't find generally conceded. See Unspeakable/Uneatable



Big Dick  Ben

 And another thing. The Overgraduate's favourite politician, St Vince of Twickenham, has been at it again, swinging his political dick around. It has to be granted that once again he seems inviolable (PM Bottles It Again) yet more proof that those in our government with balls don't have brains and those with brains don't have balls. A larger number have neither. Bloody hell it makes you proud to be British.

Irresistible Cheap Shot

To far more important matters. My training and continuing injury woes. The triathlon is imminent and the all-important penultimate week of preparation is already scheduled to be spent on the piss in Ireland. Not good. Now public spending cuts and school holidays have malignly conspired to stop me swimming. The City of Birmingham has now confined the largesse of free swimming to the hours  of 1.00 to 4.00. This is manageable for the mature student but the City has also thrown open the pool to its yoof for the next couple of weeks so lane swimming is out in favour of dive bombing, heavy petting and other manifestations of pubescent natation. End result: can't run, can't swim; confined to the lovely new bike. Plus I've got final assignments to complete before I swan off to Ireland to rescue their economy. Bad planning. I blame the boy Cameron.