Fellow presenter Jane Hill (who fancies herself as a film and fashion critic) always pulls pained expressions if they're on together. The things she cannot say to preserve the illusion of worldly tolerance!
Simon needs to lose about three stone and even more of ego: but let's not body-shame the poppet. School boy smirking is a hallmark as is peering down at his desk prior to another irony. At least one misery-guts weatherman appears to be irritated by the handover banter. Simon needs modern hair restyling. The suit - it must be better tailored. Let's deal with the 'peril'.
The Mail today reported his sarcasm about the latest royal unborn sprog in Kate's womb. Fancy picking on a lickle foetus. Appalling. He doesn't think news of a royal birth time is news - and actually he's quite right.
But is he briefed to allow his personal tastes to colour the news tone?
Lately, he's started calling his segment 'Afternoon Live' (AL), which perhaps is his answer to Saturday Night Live. We are now witness to an attempted Caesarian of a news 'personality' in the Reginald Bosanquet tradition. So, once upon a time, earnest people in business suits stood in front of graphs and told us that the FTSE ("footsie") was down a point or two. Now they sit at a desk a la Kenneth Williams to Simon's Joan Rivers and relate the stocks and shares theatrics in a chuckly chat show format. Instead of facts-delivery we have news fishing where the viewer is expected to land the odd nugget from the torrents of Simon's quips and interruptions. Everything ends up drowned.
This has to stop. News must be lucidly dull. It is incumbent on news deliverers to sit there without a personality and just tell us what happened today. Allow the terrorists/politicians/film director-wankers/others to entertain us. Think Moira Stuart. Think Gordon Honeycombover. Even Selina Scott caused widespread narcolepsy with her unceasing froideur. I do not want to know about Simon McCoy's sense of humour or of his bromance with Tomasz Schafernake (he's mine, bitch). The stand-up must stand down.
Just get back to being a suit facing the camera. At 56 consider yourself lucky still to be employed, dearie - possession of a cock probably helps in that respect. Ooh - a quip!