The bumper Christmas edition of The Kemptown Rag has hit the streets (and landed in the gutter), and I have to say I'm loving the work of the new layout guy. Well I say new. I think he's been doing it since August, but it takes me a while to adjust to change. The man's done a fine job with my latest article though. I particularly like the way he's hijacked a couple of planes and flown them into the twin towers of my writing to create an explosion of colour. It makes the whole page look attractive. If he carries on like this, even I'm going to want to read my stuff.

On the downside, I'd just like to state for the record that I did not, I repeat not, use the word "Wa-hey!" at the end of the article. I think that's a bit of festive exuberance from the editor.

Anyhoo, talking of people getting over-excited at Christmas, I went festive food shopping with Lisa and her Mum yesterday. I now realise why there's a food shortage in the third world - Lisa's family are hoarding it all in a cupboard in Brighton. As things stand right now, they could open their own branch of Marks & Spencer's, and if they actually manage to eat it all, I'll have to book them in for gastric bypass surgery in the new year.

As for our journey into town, that was like a recreation of the Christmas story, but with only one wise man. The three of us had arranged to meet outside M&S at 4:30pm, so having enjoyed afternoon tea on my sofa, Lisa's Mum decided to catch the bus outside my flat, while I chose to walk, and Lisa planned to make her own way from work. So waving goodbye to Lisa's mother at one bus stop, I headed off down the road on foot, covered a mile without seeing a single bus, passed Lisa standing at another bus stop, said hello, told her that her Mum would be on the next bus, carried on walking, and eventually arrived at Marks & Spencer's before either of them.

It was all the more remarkable because en route to the M&S food hall I spotted master magician Paul Zenon doing his Christmas shopping in North Street, which delayed me for a good five minutes while I followed him up the road wondering whether I had the nerve to ask him to show me a trick. In the end I didn't. But half an hour later I asked Lisa to pick a card, she chose my Barclays debit, and we successfully made a large amount of money disappear. Now that's magic.