Nothing much doing today. Went for a run with mad cousin Paddy this morning. He's either a Spaniel or a Spaniard, I'm not sure which. Now he really is mad, he'll eat ANYTHING, and I do mean anything. At least I restrict myself to stuff that's already been eaten. This boy will go for anything that isn't nailed to the floor, and if it is nailed to the floor then he'll eat it and the nails too. Plastic bags, socks, flannels. He even reckons he did a small nest of tables once. Watched the Cheltenham Gold Cup. Chased Smokey the cat from over the road. Barked at assorted indiscriminate passers by and shat in the flower bed. Twice. What's your problem?

I am reliably informed that you sir are a complete and utter twat. I read in the paper the other day that you got seventeen bags of dog pooh delivered to the Virgin head office via our chums the Royal Mail during 2010. What I want to know is who sent the other two? There's another on the way good buddy.

Is on today. I'd love to go horse racing me. They do massive poohs horses don't they? Bloody great enormous things. Me Dad took me for this walk in the woods once and we came across one, I thought it was a roundabout at first. But then I realised that roundabouts don't generally steam. This bugger was giving off more vapour than a Japanese nuclear reactor, and it was also of a similar size. Have you ever seen that programme on the telly Man vs Food? It was Dog vs Pooh that day, bloody lovely it was. I've still got the t-shirt somewhere, there's only been me and a Great Dane called Spike that's got one. Happy days....

Is a sheepdog and his two-legged is a farmer. Frank was out with him in the tractor drilling wheat last autumn and they unearthed a rusty old lamp. So the farmer hopped out of the cab to have a closer look at it and gave it a little rub on his jacket, as you do, and was amazed to see a genie appear and offer to grant him any wish he wanted. Well the farmer thought for a moment and then said "I'd like the price of wheat to go to £200/tonne!" So the genie sighed but said "OK, I'll sort that out for you then, you greedy bastard" and popped back into his bottle. And the farmer casually tossed the lamp into the back of his cab and got on with his drilling. Well they were out again this morning putting a bit of nitrogen on, Frank and the farmer, and the farmer spotted the lamp and gave it a little rub again, just on the off chance, and you'll never guess what happened, the genie popped out again, and said that he'd grant the farmer one more wish. So the fa

There's deffo something wrong with him, I think he may have oldtimers disease or summat. The news was on tonight right, and it's all about Japan, and he's going "blimey, look at the arse on that!" In the middle of a crisis, that's all he can think about. He's sick in the head. It was the same with Haiti last year, he's going "get yer head out of the way Mark Mardell, look at her baps!" Pooh count: six, a fair effort on the day.

Golden brown texture like sun, out it comes straight from me bum, throughout the night, it never looks white, never a frown, it's golden brown...cue harpsichord...

I hear that a load of drunken Newcastle supporters have called all sorts of problems in Japan, the tight bastards. The two-leggeds went out for a meal the other night to celebrate something or other, I don't know what it was they never tell me anything. The little feller, what's he called, George yeah that's it, ordered a rib-eye steak and then decided that he didn't like it, which was good news for me. I wasn't too keen on the caramelised shallots in balsamic though, so I just pushed them to one side. Pooh count: 4, and it's not even teatime yet. I do hope it's sausages.