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Wednesday, April 28, 2004

It's scary the things you find out whilst emptying your cat's litter tray. I was quietly minding my own business, well my cat's business, and was about to tip a scoopful of unmentionables onto a copy of the local paper (which is about all it's good for), when my eye was caught by a colourful advert on page 15.

The ad in question was for "Girl Next Door", offering a range of beauty therapy services including 'Massage Counselling', which I suspect would benefit from a comma. Still, it's nice to know you can sort out your emotional problems and get your nails done at the same time.

Anyhoo, temporarily distracted from the job in hand (literally), and momentarily considering booking an appointment with the girl next door (blimey, I hope it's not the girl who lives next door to ME, it doesn't bear thinking about), my eyes wandered to the advert above, and I found myself thinking "hang on... that phone number seems strangely familiar..."

Yes, I want to meet Mr Magic!

Since when has my Dad been calling himself Mr Magic????? Does no one tell me anything around here??? And does this mean my Mum is now Mrs Magic??? Am I caught up in a freakish game of Happy Families, where I'm now Master Magic the magician's son???? Blimey, it's no wonder I grew up weird.

But still, give him a call and ask if his first name's Animal.

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