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Monday, March 31, 2003

I walked back past the grass verge today. The bag of doggy poo was still there. But I realise the only thing more insane than leaving a sealed bag of shit by the side of the road, is going back five days later to look for it. So I won't be doing it again.

Thursday, March 27, 2003

I'm in the middle of trying to write a difficult scene in my new play, and there's a pheasant on the grass outside my flat, 'korr-kok'-ing like there's no tomorrow. I think I'll move to London for some peace and quiet. Either that or buy a gun.

Wednesday, March 26, 2003

I was walking in Shotley Gate this afternoon and up ahead of me was a lady walking her dog. The dog stopped on the grass verge at the side of the road to do its business, whereupon the lady pulled a small plastic bag from her pocket, waited for her pooch to finish, then collected its little present in the bag and secured it neatly with a bow. Another responsible local citizen, I thought, cleaning up after her dog. I then watched as the lady gently tossed the bag into a nearby patch of long grass, and walked on.

Now, I admit I've never owned a dog, so I may not be entirely au fait with the minutiae of canine toilet training, but I was under the impression you were meant to take the bag home with you? I'm not saying it's stupid to take a piece or organic matter and seal it in a plastic bag which will take 20 years to biodegrade on that grass verge, but... oh sorry, that's exactly what I'm saying.

In my view, the only good reason for sealing a doggy poo in a bag and not taking it home, is if it's a paper bag which you plan to place on someone's doorstep, set light to, ring the bell, and run off, safe in the knowledge that the occupant will emerge and stamp on the bag to put it out. Which is obviously something I've never done, and know nothing about. I only mention it for the sake of balanced reporting.

Saturday, March 22, 2003

Three days into the war on Iraq and in my tireless search for the truth, I've uncovered what I believe to be the military's covert plan of action. Let's just say I don't think there are going to be millions marching to protest about this one.


Saturday, March 15, 2003

Someone's stolen the name badge off my car. This is slightly troubling. In the 1980s, when the Beastie Boys were doing their tongue-in-cheek version of rap, which was immediately taken seriously by the world (and subsequently by the Beastie Boys themselves), there was a craze for stealing the VW sign off every Volkswagen in the country. Which was fair enough. Only trouble is, I drive a Skoda. Did I miss the moment when Westlife appeared on Top of the Pops wearing Skoda badges around their necks? Have I missed the boat on a new craze? Of course, my biggest worry is now car theft. My car came equipped with a brilliant anti-theft device - the word "Skoda" clearly printed on the rear. With this gone, it's only a matter of time before thieves mistake it for a sporty hatchback, and make off with it.

Monday, March 10, 2003

As of yesterday, my website has been listed on Google, which has now supplied me with my first search engine hit. So was it someone looking for ME, for my writing, for my music?? No, it was someone from Canada who did a search for the word "Cadbury", and the phrases "creme eggs" and "white chocolate". And yes, there IS a page on my site which contains all of those elements. Although having found it, the person in question didn't stay long. I wonder why...

Friday, March 07, 2003

Ron Davies was looking for BADGERS????? Is the man being advised by a team of comedy writers???