MOTOR-mouth Murray Walker is retiring after more than half a century of Grand Prix commentating.

Fans waved banners saying "Sorry to see you go-go-go" at his last British Grand Prix at Silverstone.

I'm not. His over-the-top prattle has grated on me for a while.

I'm not a Grand Prix fan - I'd rather watch paint dry than see suped-up cars usually chasing Schumacher's red Ferrari round a track for 70 odd laps.

I can think of better things to do with three hours on a rainy Sunday - but then I don't know.

Instead of being driven round the twist, I went upstairs and tuned into a tribute to Joan Sims who died recently - Carry On Girls, a 1973 seaside romp in the bawdy comedy series.

Weren't they awful?

The place is Fircombe, the story about a beauty contest and a women's group's bid to wreck it.

As the mayor opened a gents-only in the resort, the women, led by June Whitfield (Mrs Prodworthy) decided to "squat in this erection to manhood" - and so on went the double entendres.

There was Ida Downs, Hope Springs, Cecil Gaybody, Syd Fiddler, phwoah phwoah.

Most of the principal actors are a long gone to the Carry Ons in the sky, but it seems June, still one of our biggest radio and TV stars, has lived for ever - and she still looks the same.

They were really appalling tosh, but they still keep being dug up and re-run repeatedly. Someone must like them.

I'm sure today's more sophisticated youngsters don't appreciate the lavatorial humour. Or do they?