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Sunday, December 05, 2004

Am I right in thinking that Paul Burrell has become a national treasure overnight? The man's a star. Anyone who can shamelessly begin a sentence with the words "I can't believe how much support I've had over the years from Tom Hanks", and continue with that theme for a good five minutes when it's clear the person you're talking to couldn't give a monkey's, is completely wonderful, and should be stuffed and preserved for the nation. And if he isn't crowned King of the Jungle in 24 hours time, it will be a travesty of the highest order.

But then I said the same thing last year about Peter Andre, and look what happened there. The British public are insaniacs. I'll be voting for you though, Paul, don't worry, so that's two votes guaranteed: me and Tom Hanks. And he can probably afford a couple.

Anyhoo, top news of the day (apart from discovering this afternoon that Microsoft Word's dictionary doesn't know the word 'kerfuffle') (so I used it four times in one paragraph of my novel, just to make a point) is that I had a visitor arrive at my website today after Googling for the words "sings of depression". Which is quite spooky coz I've no idea how to diagnose depression, but I often hum Radiohead songs while I'm doing the washing up.