The man with the yellow tie

'The man with the yellow tie. Do you know what they say about men with yellow ties? I can tell you' a charity person says. 'Actually it's gold' I think as I walk on by. Bitch.

One thing they may say about a man with a yellow tie is that he's Nick Clegg. It's sad that my surname doesn't have quite the same pop as his when turned into a mania: Cleggmania. Sounds like some hideous sexual compulsion. I don't think my hideous sexual compulsions have names. Oh yes, that's right. Homosexuality.

Another odd dream last night. I dreamt I was at work and I was shot in the stomach and through a lung. 'You need to stop the bleeding', I said. My colleague replied that the grated zest of a satsuma would work. Luckily there was one nearby.

I'm a puzzle.

Proud of the NHS

Treatment of snoring on the NHS: 'Enquire if snoring is worse on back and if so implement simple measures to prevent this (e.g. half tennis ball sewn into back of pyjama bottoms)'

Who says socialised medicine doesn't work?

Favourite story of the week - 'BNP facing Marmite legal action'. You either hate them or you hate them.

Oh penis, where art thou?

Strange dream.

I dreamt I was going to have my penis removed.

The possibilities:

a. My subconscious is telling me that if I'm not going to use it, I may as well not have it
b. I secretly want to become a woman
c. Eating cheese late at night causes odd dreams

Clearly option b is unpalatable. Option a hits a little too close to home. Therefore it must be the fault of the cheese.

Mystery solved.

Zoo Gym

It's been a while since I last went to the gym. I'm getting lazy. Lazier. The mind is willing, but the flesh is flabby and uncooperative. I have the back of an old lady, the blood pressure of an old man and an overdraft that would turn Alistair Darling's eyebrows white (finally).

Really, only people who are already fit go to the gym. Stupendously pretty people with arms; real arms, not the fleshy pipe cleaners of mere mortals. And all they do is walk around marking their territory, spraying their scent (Tightass, Calvin Klein) on the machines. And makeup. Who the hell wears makeup to the gym? Do they think they'll meet Mr Right inbetween page flicks of Hello and OK? Let's face it, pretty gym people are only good for one thing. The best you could hope to meet is Mr Right Now Quietly in the Changing Rooms (does anyone have his number?).

Segregation is the key. The pretty people should all go to separate gyms where they can frolic and pose, leaving the rest of us in Zoo Gyms grunting like the sweaty beasts we are. Gazelles be banned; welcome, Elephants. But watch out when we flap our ears, we are either angry or horny. Either way, you're gonna get trampled.

My day in letters

Dear Pope Benedict XVI,

I was not abused as a child. Is there something wrong with me?

--

Dear Loud Skanky White Trash on the Train,

I understand that you are going through a particularly difficult time at the moment. It would seem that Steve is dissin you to all his mates init. I'm sure that deep down he doesn't really think you're a 'ball buster', perhaps he has oedipal issues. A course of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy may help him work through these issues. You may also wish to consider if therapy could help with your OCD. Repeatedly saying 'whatever' may reduce your anxiety but it's not healthy.

And get tested, because he probably is cheating on you with 'that bitch'.

--

Dear Lady Gaga,

I have not been telephoning you.

Taxonomy of bitches

I found this useful taxonomy of biches. I especially like no. 2 'ain't got no ass bitches' and no. 25 'Spanish bitches who think they all that cause of their hair'. And I would like to add 'noisy bitches'.

The Miracle of Easter

Jesus died on the cross for us and every year he comes back in chocolate egg form to nourish our bodies and souls. Though I'm not religious, I like to fill up on chocolate Jesus at Easter. And eggs are a good source of Omega 3.

But I can't help but feel a bit pissed at Jesus for resurrecting himself so quickly. He gave us eternal salvation but couldn't he have given us more Bank Holidays?

Most days I watch Deal or No Deal over dinner, taking pleasure in screaming 'deal you moron!' whilst simultaneously and elegantly shovelling another piece of pasta into my gub. Today a man no dealt £20,000 just before totally obliterating his board. He left with £3,000. Didn't he hear me say deal at 20k? Still, £3,000 is a lot of chocolatey Jesus.

I also watch Masterchef. I'm pretty sure I could do what they do. Like all cooking appliances, my hob only cooks well if you shout 'FUCK' really loudly at it. Do you think Gordon Ramsay swears just to look cool? No, although of course it is cool. Swearing is a fundamental principle of cooking. Cunty Carbonara, Buggering Bolognese. Got to work the fundamentals.

I expect a Michelin star any day now.

Everything is closed on Easter Sunday. If it wasn't for Tesco Express I'd starve to death.

It Could Be You

Well it wasn't. Not even a tenner.

On to career plan B.

Well and truly licked

As I licked 41 envelopes at work a familiar thought entered my head: I'd make an awfully good secretary/administrator. The whole office marvelled as I quickly and deftly folded the letters to the precise size required to allow the address to show through the plastic window. And I'm terribly helpful on the phone.

Unless you are one of the three mobile phone networks that carry the iPhone. My contract is up next week and I thought I'd shop around for a better deal. But it seems that Apple's Great Leader, in his infinite wisdom, has deals with these networks that means they can't have different prices and can't make offers to keep or entice customers. The best I can hope for is to persuade O2 to give me unlimited txts. Or I could switch to Orange for the same as I have now plus unlimited txts and a new handset. But no option of spending less per month.

Now a cynic might call that anti-competitive price-fixing. I would never dream of saying such a thing.

However I can and will curse them all to hell.

Deal or No Deal has an Alice in Wonderland theme this week, with all of the contestants dressed up as characters from the book. As the player chose one of the boxes, Noel said to the contestant 'Alice! Thank you for allowing us to come into your wonderful land'.

Definitely no double entendres there. I've checked.