Now then,

I’ve had a difficult week this week, having a truss fitted is a slow process and my Doctor is from Poland and does not understand a word of English. You look like a right goon wearing a truss around your forehead; I was the laughing stock of the Darby and Joan Club.

The cat isn’t getting any younger. He gets increasingly incontinent by the day. He now sprays urine and faeces up the skirting boards. Now we could go to the vet and say ‘He’s incontinent, what should we do?’ But, we know the vet would say that he was old and we should put him down. Kill the cat and no longer live in a smelly house, but with the guilt of killing the cat or let the cat live and endure a life of cat stink? It is one of life’s great philosophical questions.

Romeo seems pleased with himself. Apparently, the greenhouse is perfect for his orchid growing and the crop is looking really fine. He keeps saying that the buds are really big. His success has encouraged Ramona to shave her legs. She is gradually becoming less like a gorilla. She is more like a marmoset now.

I was disappointed to receive no comments at all on my column/article/post last week. I enjoy your feedback a lot and thought it might be due to the fact that that it was the first week that I had posted during the day whilst entirely sober. My giggle buttons were not properly lubricated. It’s like attempting the rear entry without the lubricant; it’s just unfortunate and will make her eyes water and you sore. Don’t even attempt it.

I worry about that last line. The word ‘it,’ hanging over the edge like that is called an orphan and I feel sorry for it. If you justify the text it will sink back into the line. I just justified and it did not move. Word stinks. Life stinks. Rosie Webster has had such a hard time recently. Ask her. I’d rather kidnap a giraffe from Weatherfield zoo. Zoo is an orphan. Weatherfield has no zoo.

Another bloody orphan… Birmingham brought out the best in Forest. We attacked and showed our worth. They reminded us that the gap between top and bottom is actually not all that big. We could and should have won. Just that last pass is missing.

Think about it. In Birmingham the main shopping centre is the Bull Ring. Why? Is there a tradition of England’s second biggest city holding regular bullfights? Our ground is called the City Ground as it is nowhere near the City. I think it is called that to force people to visit Hooters on their way back to the City. Birmingham’s ground is called St Andrews, presumably to fool everyone into going to the ground via Scotland. How often do they hold bullfights at their home ground? If I had bought a season ticket there, I would feel cheated. I would want to see a calf lanced at least, before each game, preferably by someone gay-looking on horseback.

The only decent thing that Birmingham has contributed to the cultural life of this planet is Crossroads. Crossroads used to be broadcast at 5.30 I think on Central TV. It was unbelievably dreadful. When someone slammed a door; the whole set shook. One character went to find a spanner and returned three years later. The hotel burned down more than once. Crossroads became a byword for bad acting. I must admit to really enjoying it. In fact, I miss it. They replaced it with Australian soaps that were nowhere near as good. It’s like Indian Call Centres. You spend the first ten minutes thinking you are through to Leicester and then realise you are talking to Madras. Then you realise that the person you are talking to has a doctorate in something but can barely understand what you are saying. Then you just give up.

Globalisation really helps the third world. Does it? The guy with the PHD in the Indian call centre is paid less than our minimum wage. That causes unemployment in our country. The whole thing stinks, the banks run on ridiculous profits every year. One day I will notice that the big banks still make profits while the rest of us await a rise in some footie index or other.

I’ll see thee.