South West Trains made me two hours late for work this morning. How insulting should my letter of complaint be? I'm going for "premier-league muppetry" and "unprecedented levels of buffoonry" - do you think "complete shower of wanktards" is taking it too far? The actual letter I sent can be found on Robber Rabbit.
Hope of the States - The Lost Riots
Morrissey - You are the Quarry
The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow
The Delays - Faded Seaside Glamour
Iggy Pop - Blah Blah Blah
H. Montgomery Hyde's authoritative biography of Oscar Wilde. What a rip-off. Page 56 and he's still not gay.
Trapped in Sticker Factory - Send Help!. Give money to Thomas, get stickers, hilarity/jailarity ensues. I am particularly proud of this one, and the sticker on the drive-thru window at the Weymouth KFC, which are both still there.
My daughter is now involved. Nothing good can come of this.
I've been spending some time this week trying to find some seagull spikes for the top of luxury seaside penthouse. We're having a small, flat roof added as part of our loft extension and machine gun nest. Any level surface is almost immediately leapt upon by feathery rats as a nesting ground, and before you know it, you've got a whole family of the pikey bastards. I now have some lovely spikes, courtesy of an Exeter company called Pigeon Off - "We bugger 'em an' eat 'em".
However, this may be money down the drain after the wonders of the Interspazz has informed me of a far better way of dealing with the evil beaked peril.
Seagulls, you see, in order to deal with their largely junk diet have incredibly acidic stomachs. Feed them with sardines stuffed with baking soda causes a chemical reaction that makes them explode. Somehow, I cannot bring myself to stoop to such levels.
Bollocks to this, I'm off to club some seals instead.