Dogging news

All this AND the Thursday vote-o

This week I finally got my grubby hands on a dictophone. Apart from boring colleagues to death with the world's only dictaphone gag ("No, use your finger like everybody else does") I am now able to mumble blog ideas, low quality jokes and general rants ("South West Trains can stick it up their arse" is a choice cut from this week's aural notes) into the thing whilst in public places.

This puts me, or "Man with dictation device" just above "People who call other people 'Jimmy'" and slightly below "Have you got five quid for me train fare home" on the Beadle scale of public nuisances, and should be avoided at all costs.

Enough already! The time has come to vote for tomorrow's Scary Story. Six to choose from, you lucky devils:

* Haunted Holiday: "Unsure about the legality of the whole affair, he instead decided to use horse manure instead, just to be on the safe side."
* Diet Club: "Come back and take what's coming to you!" she screamed. But it was no good, Glenn Hoddle had fled.
* Underneath the Arches: "I expect you're wondering why I called you here. And I'll tell you, but first show me that trick with the frozen sausage."
* The Elton John story: "Saturday Night may have been alright for fighting, but I was unsure if that move was strictly legal outside the bounds of a prison shower."
* The Duke of Kent story: "I say, old man," he said, licking his lips in a disconcerting manner, "You don't have a live mouse about your person, by any chance?"
* The Uri Geller story: "We set up all kinds of booby traps, some fatal, some not. And yet, like some hell-sent wraith, he defeated them all."

Still here? Vote, then! Vote-me-up!

Dogging news

Last night was spent in the most profitable manner possible, with a trip down to Whitehall with a big bottle of that aniseed-flavoured spray favoured by hunt sabateurs to send hunt dogs on a mad barking frenzy round the countryside.

Starting outside the main doors to the Home Office and doing my best to look like a goofy yokel tourist up from the sticks (an act that comes naturally, I am pleased to say), I managed to lay out a twisty-turny Benny Hill-type trail up and down the seat of British government, crossing several bus lanes and extremely busy roads, ending up in the Leopard enclosure at London Zoo.

So, as a top tip, you might like to watch one of the twenty-four hour news channels today for the moment David Blunkett and guide dog turn up for work - with hilarious results!

I am not mad.