I am receiving a number of emails on a daily basis giving me feedback on this project that I am engaged in. However, more than one of the eight or so that I received today was asking questions, answers to which can all be found somewhere on these pages. Therefore, as a gentle reminder, if you are new to this site I advise you either to scroll to the bottom of the page and read upwards, or click on the 'archive' categories and read my earliest postings. That way everything will make more sense.
This evening I've have decided to cheer myself up by ordering a chicken korma, sitting in a dark room and listening to Leonard Cohen music. I have also printed out five more letters that over the next day or two will be sent to the disparate quintet of Guy Richie (pictured), Vanessa Feltz, Irvine Welsh, Vivian Westwood, and Professor Stephen Hawking.
I'm glad it's nearly bedtime, as for me today has been a depressing and exhausting affair. Not only did I discover that some putrid little reprobate, with connections in East London and Birmingham, had been rifling my already empty bank account (see posting directly below), but my drive home this evening saw another's behaviour plumbing to equally appalling depths.
So what if I turned onto York Way in King's Cross slightly hurriedly. Just because the young lady (loosest sense of the word) had to, lord forbid, actually slow down slightly, I personally don't believe that merited driving behind me all the way up to the junction with Agar Grove with her hand on the hooter and two fingers in the air. Perhaps she was late meeting her probation officer. The look of unparalleld rage on her absurdly distorted face was truly a sight to behold. I did though manage to make it home without turning into a pillar of salt.
If you need any further insight as to why society seems to be becoming less and less forgiving the older we get, I suggest that you do what I did when I got home. If you have Sky TV, pick up your remote control and press the blue lozenge shaped button that looks like a rubber viagra pill (as is my understanding), and that has 'tv guide' written on it.
Note if you will, the name of one particular programme, "Grab a Grand". That to me sums up everything that is wrong with the world today. Grab - to snatch greedily, a Grand - money. And what other diversions of delight did we have on offer on the channels either side of that one. Some excremental smear of a programme called Babecast XXX one page down, and the ubiquitous piece of detritus devoted to Poker one page up.
Although I do actually quite like poker.
Anyway, sorry for whingeing on, but I have an inner ear infection.