Day 86: I Listen To The Archers*

Sophie! Get off David Archer right now, you dirty husband-stealing trollop. And how DARE you "forget" to tell Ruth that the party was black tie, and then compliment her on her "little outfit"? And as for offloading Ruth on your mother all night so you could persuade David to do some heavy work on the Sensory Garden - you're a disgrace.

Any more of this nonsense and I'm coming down to Ambridge to give you what for.



* For Foreign Readers

The Archers = Extremely Important. No, I can't explain. You'll just have to listen to it.

Day 85: I Am Finally Revealed

Many of you may have wondered why I look strangely like Curious George. Wonder no more. I have cast off the disguise and here I am, the real me - complete with fez, crisps (plain Hula-Hoops), small clay pipe and glass of Absinthe. How has this thing been possible?, I hear you cry. Easy.

Some weeks ago, I admired the work of a very clever man called Dave Shelton. Such was our bond that he insisted on capturing my image in order to preserve it for all eternity. I think I look rather fine, and I am sure you will all agree.

And yes - more excitement to follow. A dear friend will be creating a light but generally unobtrusive and most definitely stylish (think Le Corbusier-meets-Louis XIV-armoire-meets-Tom-Dixon-c. 1999), site redesign in the coming weeks.

Sweet Lord! Will the excitement never end?























And thank you, Dave Shelton. If you ever need an illustrator, he's your man. And go and look at his blog, where you will find The Development Of The Monkey and a recent and very fine elephant in a suit.

Day 85: I Wonder If It Is Wrong To Laugh

Day 85: I Mend My Television

Bleak nights without the television. I have had to read, write, cook 12-course dinners from scratch, engage with my vile cat, go to bed early, see people and live.

But the pain is over. For thanks to the lovely Clare, I have mended the television by - yes, it's true - switching the digital box and off at the wall.

Bring me your broken electrical appliances, and I Shall Make Them Well. I have magic in my fingers, and want to share it with the world.

Day 85: I Get My Lunch In My Hair

I am dressed properly for the first time in months, for this afternoon I Have An Interview. Shoes with heels on, and everything. (By the way, if I get a job but it's not permanent, can I still be Non-Working? Or do I have to write about the things that happen when I am Non-Working, i.e. not in the office? I see Non-Working as more of a state of mind than a literal description, so maybe it doesn't matter at all.)

It is just as well I had an itch on the back of my head, for when I scrached my head, I found a bit of carrot in mustard sauce (but thankfully none of the pork fillet that went with it.) I dropped it by mistake and the cat ate it, which is odd, because it was the dead cat that liked vegetables, preferably in chili sauce. (Remember, that cat is now dead. Do not let your cat eat Spaghetti Alla Puttanesca.)

I have had to wash my hair in a hurry and now the back of my dress is wet. Thankfully, I am also Very Tired, having not slept much last night, so it seems that my success is assured. And by success, I mean another few months of unemployment, thinking of faraway places, lifting weights on a half-ball, and being desperately, fatally in love with Croydon.