This one has me puzzled, the bloke over the road right, the one that lives next door to Taff. No not that way the other way, with the big silver car, yeah now you've got him. What's he up to? He's out all day, I assume at work, I mean I'm no Poirot but it's a fair assumption that one isn't it. He's not there, the cars not there, from around 8.30 to 5.30, so I reckon he's gone and got himself a job. You are with me this far I take it. Right, well here's the puzzling bit. Most nights between say 6 and 10 he's in an out of that house like I don't know what, off somewhere quick in the car then back again. He's usually "away" for between 5-15 mins and then he's back. No sooner has he reversed onto the drive and popped into the house than he's back out again. Last night between 9-10 he "popped" out no fewer than eight times. He could be running a plate-less taxi firm from home I suppose, one that never gets a journey of more than five or ten minutes, but that seems unlikely. Or he could be the busiest serial killer in the world. Or are we talking "herbal" substances? Should I inform the police? Go over and bite him? Or go round whilst he's out to see if there's a millionaire's daughter imprisoned in a fifty foot excrement covered pit in the living room? Talking of pooh, I've had three today. The last one was a real "cleaner-outer" - you know the sort. I'm surprised it wasn't more terrier shaped than that actually. God I'm hungry.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.