Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Steve Martin and Michael Caine wasn't it? Well I'm fuming quite literally!

I'm living in the revamped, remodelled version of Dantes 7 circles of hell aka NW7 - "The Divine Comedy" (right nextdoor to Burger King, Homebase and TGIS - This gaffe is shite).

Forget about two-pence halfpenny (darn let's go decimal shall we - 5p) burglaries by uncouth yobs that should have parents, that should know better.

Forget the determined vandals with malicious intent, the assault on the underground, the spiteful intentional dents in your car, the litter, the dogshit and grafitti, the falling masonry. Hell! Another day another dollop......

Once upon a time, Great Ormond Street hospital delivered a logo printed bag for donations of clean clothes, bed linen and shoes. You know the drill. You know the score. You fill the bag and leave it outside your door on the designated day. So I have a profound respect for Great Ormond Street. They looked after my son. I always make an effort to fill their bag with clean, usable donations.

A bag was delivered through my letterbox approximately a week ago. Yesterday I scouted around and collected together a load of clothes and shoes for the bag. Even shoved a brand new pack of kiddies under-rods in. Well at £3 for a pack of five, Primark are giving them away. They were going to a good cause.

This morning was the designated pick up day. I put the bag outside the gate. About 10 minutes later, a white van came down the road and a bloke got out.

He was wearing one of those day-glo-wanker-tank-tops that shrieks "attention...ground control, official, waving ping-pong bats. I'm here now to save the world".......but enough of my biased opinions. He deftly scooped up the bag and put it in the back of the van.

About 10 minutes later another white van with The Great Ormond Street logo on the side came down the road slowly looking for bags placed outside. Naturally there was none! Nothing! Zilch! The dirty rotten bastards posing as bogus charity collectors had stolen the lot!

Naturally I phoned Great Ormond Street. Naturally I gave my name and phone number. I reported what I'd seen and I'm outraged. I know there are unscrupulous, greedy, thieving, gobshites that would mug a pensioner for her weekly pension but well you would always like to think....

N I M B Y!

Surgery, burglary, decorating and death. The four arses of the apocalypse. Does apoca-thingy have two "ps"?

I have not posted a blog for a while. Well it seems like ages. So much has happened in the bat of a cricket ball that who gives a dickie-bird.

I have attended a funeral, climbed up Haytor, undergone majory surgery, been visited by the malicious little bastards that previously robbed the booze from the fridge in the garage, and been caught with my overalls down. The last bit is the lesser known phrase for not being able to complete the painting and decorating downstairs.

The malicious little bastards are the frequent visitors helping themselves to the booze in the fridge in the garage. Since this naive discovery, we took very strict precautions hastened along by all well meaning bloggers. But to no avail. Restraining myself from erecting a turret for a gattling gun, a security light activated by a sensor was the weapon suggested by our illustrious police force. The same police force that utttered these words........."It's safe to leave the door unlocked, says Met Chief"....

Has this man lost his helmet? Or not taken his protein pill? (apologies to David Bowie singing Space Oddity)

But back to the matter not in hand. The plastic cable to the sensor light has been cut with pliers twice in the space of 48 hours. The perpetrators scaling over a padlocked gate to do so.

Could there be fingerprints on the cable perhaps, said I with tremulous hope.

"Nah! Sorry mate, it's the wrong type of plastic!"... came the inane rejoinder from the plonkers.

...."I'm so worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow...." sang Monty Python.

And these clear plastic bags for:

"Spectacles
Testicles
Wallet and
Watch......."Nuns on the Run".

..."Well I might as well have stayed at home!".....
...."Oooh, I dunno, it does yer good to have a fling occasionally"...........extract from Balham: Gateway to the South by Peter Sellers.

Just about sums it up.

Sometimes I need to contemplate the good stuff after watching the news....

Important Facts and Figures About the UK *

Form of Government:

Constitutional Absurdity in hose and horsehair wig.

Area.

244,821 square km (approx. 46 square whoppermegamiles)

Principal industries:

Sandwich shops, tax evasion, going to war, being Scottish, Queueing in Post Offices, Sitting in Traffic

Atmosphere.

Oxygen 20% Laughing Gas 1%. Trace elements include: Imogen, Hallucinogen and Tri-Bellicose Monomania.

* Figures are rounded up to the nearest tea-break and wind-break