There's always something happening in Kemp Town. Lisa walked out of work yesterday afternoon, turned right, and almost tripped over Lembit Opik trying to cure Motor Neurone Disease by dunking the Cheeky Girls into a cup of tea. Personally I think they'd raise more money by sponsoring the girls not to sing, but what would I know.

In other local news, just seven months after writing an article about them for The Kemptown Rag, Floors and Walls have made it onto primetime national TV. Well, I say primetime. They were on Channel 4 at five past midnight. For about five minutes. And if you don't believe me, you can watch it here. Having recorded the show and watched it half asleep at 6:30am on Thursday morning, I must admit I was slightly outraged. They can't go describing their music as "chav rock" after I've gone into print declaring myself to be a fan. What will people think? I already shop at Lidl. No one's going to believe I'm middle class now.

But on the bright side, I recently discovered that the far more classy Ben Poole has followed The Rylics' fine example by quoting me on both his MySpace site and his main website. I bet The Argus regret not giving me a job now. Ben's got some new songs up on MySpace, and I have to say, there isn't a better way to spend seven minutes of your life than by listening to 'I'm Losin' You' (one title, four apostrophes). And if you didn't believe me when I said he's the best guitarist I've ever seen, try 'Liquid Wonderment'.

But enough about Ben, here's the news you've my Mum's been waiting for...

I PASSED!

Yes, I'm officially a white van man. My class credentials really have gone up in smoke. But after spending the afternoon pootling around Brighton and Woodingdean in a clapped-out old van with no central locking and the handbrake on the right (I grasped thin air at every traffic light), Graham, a qualified driving instructor with many years experience, officially declared me "alright", and fit to deliver Elton John's drugs. Though he thinks I should check my mirrors more often. The nerve of that man.

He did, however, praise me for keeping a safe distance between myself and the vehicle in front whilst on the 60mph road to Falmer. I thanked him, and decided not to mention that I wasn't getting any acceleration out of the old crate we were in, could barely get above forty, and couldn't catch the bloke in front without a steep downhill stretch and a following wind.

Anyway, I passed. But not only that, I'm now in possession of some exciting documents. I thought I was learning to drive an NHS van, but oh no...


It's official: I'm working for the Queen. From Monday morning I'll be on Her Majesty's business. And as for the section entitled...


... it says this:


Apparently I can also drive through red lights and eat swans.