270605

Good morning ‘Camp’ers.

Another alternative look at the metro news and the tube inhabitants from today.

Rejuvenating, psycho shower experience after dreadful nights sleep. Banshee cat howl woke me at 2am signalling she had been successful in hunt for small rodent and would I like to see how clever she was? I didn’t fancy a mouse hunt in the middle of the night so neglectfully showed no interest, once again. After a while she gives up and de-brains it on the landing. There remains only silver pea sized thing on each occasion. I assume it’s a silver sack containing micro-worms and that she’s either eaten the remainder or I have 100’s of zombie mice under the floorboards.

No MP3 today as it has proved impossible to get player and charged AAA in same location.

Whiteley dies, Carol devastated. She’s a Mathematician too, I wonder if she thinks like me. We would either have spoddy kids or ones that would be more of a danger to society. Non-kinky famous boot action at Glastonbury. Bit of an AA nip in the air as Kate Moss also shows off her skeletal legs in size 5 to 6 wellies. Joss Stone looks in good shape but hands provocatively covered, sometimes it’s best to leave things to the imagination. Africa featuring heavily in the news pages 2-5, big place I suppose.

Scientists bring Dead back to life. They have drained dogs bodies of blood and filled with saline, refilled with blood and then successfully sparked up. My worms are on placebo this morning and don’t appear to be functioning well at all, have tried banging head against wall to wake them up but it hurt. Perhaps I should save all the shiny worm bags in a solution of Saxo in case the basement zombie mouse army can be saved.

Sick nurses cost the NHS £470m a year. They have more sick days than the rest, 16.8 days per year. The last one must have been a Friday as everyone goes home early. Woman gets on at Wembley, she should have taken the day off with a face like that.

I notice a smiley girl with a Tesco bag, perhaps she has been reading herein and knows what I’m up to. Perhaps she wants to be in the Diary and knew if I saw a similar ‘statement’ bag she would be immortalised. I look around and there’s a Sainsbury’s and oh no an Iceland. I’m off at Baker St and I see a bloke with a Wickes, hey don’t start a dangerous precedent mate. Onto Bakerloo and there’s a woman with a Lilliwhites, she could be useful as homing worms are presumably not functioning well today either. I don’t want to lose my way and be wandering around SW1 lost for the rest of the morning.

Off she gets and I follow her, first escalator and I see short skirt, tanned legs and kinky boots at the top. I’m torn between discarding Guide Lilli and express lane-ing it. She’s fast lane-ing anyway and the desire not to go on a Grand Prix of Eros sways it. That and not being 100% sure that my coronary arteries will be able to feed my enlarged left ventricle with sufficient saline polluted red stuff.

Snubbed foreign ‘Ms London’ oriental boy, I prefer to receive my free papers from Latinos.

CD 270605