Found

A l'Oréal Shocking Volume Waterproof Moisturizer thingy. Not exactly lost, more thrown from a car window by its owner because it was empty, in a stunning display of public citizenship.

I'm at a staff research conference this morning, in the Lighthouse cinema. I'm on first, which at least gets the boring stuff out of the way. We're already running late - one of the three organisers has arrived, only 20 minutes late.

I see the day as a trap. Our new management will be taking notes. Anyone conducting research which doesn't attract external funding will be sacked. Anyone think of ways to parlay Welsh literature into EU/corporate funding? I'm presenting on an untranslated 19th century Welsh clergyman and academic today. Try to restrain your excitement…

Tyburn Tree's too good for them

Cynical Ben, like me, opposes the use of capital punishment in the judicial process, but proposes death to anyone referring to the BBC as 'auntie'. I agree, but have a few more candidates for the list:

apostrophe offenders, people who oppose the licence fee but pay loads more to get 800 bum-achingly awful channels on Sky, Tories, Green Lantern doubters, climate-change deniers, mobile-phone bullies, 'Blue Badge Abusers' (as Half Man Half Biscuit have it), plagiarists, litterers, Jools Holland (I think it's posh-cool for Julian), people who think that they have the right to bore you at parties because they've taken some drugs, pheasant-kickers, 4x4 drivers, those who say 'bless', fashion magazines, DIY and house-sale programmes, fake doctor Gillian McKeith, Edward Stourton, soi-disant arts types who proudly profess their ignorance of science, the RCP and the Manifesto Club, repeaters of TV catchphrases, management, the cyclist who told me to fuck myself for walking on the pavement in front of him (he then knocked over a toddler), the Any Questions contributors, anybody concerned with the production, narration and consumption of police-propaganda 'reality' TV, local news scriptwriters, the Daily Mail, MELVYN BRAGG… and intolerant people.

Feel free to add your own offenders to the list. I know I will.

This time it's personal

After five years, my old mobile phone is defunct and I've replaced it. Not, you might think, earth-shatteringly interesting or notable even in the life described to you so lovingly day-by-day. 

However, it's a big thing for me. At last, I can have my revenge. I'm tormented on the street, on trains and on buses by selfish, arrogant, noise-polluting gits who play music through those rubbish little speakers on their mobiles. It's a form of bullying, an announcement that their pleasure is more important than the comfort of the many people around them. When I'm in charge, there will be a special camp for them, with Penderecki's Threnody piped into the cells 24 hours a day.

In the meantime, my new phone will suffice. It's a cheap, boring phone, but it has a radio, a speaker and a 'record radio' function. I shall abuse these features mightily. I intend to record Veg Talk, You and Yours, Moneybox or even a specially bad episode of The Archers, one of the ones with Linda Snell or Jack Woolley in, and use them as weapons of retaliation. The next time some selfish bastard poisons the air with Akon, or Pussycat Dolls or some godforsaken emo, I shall blast them with the very worst of Radio 4 until they go away. Or stab me.