On the menace of 80s pop music

"Dear The Dorset Echo", a citizen of my home town writes, in a plea to start a cull of troublesome sea birds:

A seagull dive-bombs me every time I go outside as it has a nest in a neighbour’s garden.

A group of seagulls rip all my rubbish bags open while waiting for them to be collected, leaving my rubbish all over the road for everyone to see.

A flock of seagulls mistake my car for a toilet on a regular basis.

Why oh why oh why etc...

Of course, like a red rag to a bull, I cannot resist:

Dear The Dorset Echo,

I'm sorry to hear that one of your readers has regular problems with A Flock of Seagulls mistaking his car for a toilet.

Only last week, I caught the miserable one from Tears For Tears wiping his arse on my front doormat.

Then, I had to turn the hose on Orchestral Maneouvres in the Dark after they left a floater in my fish pond, before running amok at the Pirate Crazy Golf course on the seafront with Adam Ant.

And on the way back from the Old Castle the other night, I spotted a young lady in the gutter, rather the worse for wear from drink, bowking rich, brown vomit into a drain.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I said chivalrously, "Can I possibly be of any assistance?"

She turned her head toward me to reveal that she was no lady, but the hairy one from 80s pop icons Kajagoogoo, utterly in his cups, tunelessly singing "Too Shy".

Then he used my car as a toilet. Utter disgrace.

When will this New Romantic terror end?

Be lucky.

Albert O'Balsam, Wyke Regis

You know, I really don't think they're going to publish this one.