Stuck here in bleedin Stalag 45 whilst the two-leggeds get their puffy white skin burnt to a crisp. Harris in number four smuggled in an iPad which he's lent me for half an hour to type this missive. I've scratched the number of days I've been in here on the wall of my cell and it's now up to nine. I'm sure that the most they've ever left me in here for is seven or eight. The bastards. Freddie in number six says that he got left here for fourteen days last year by his inconsiderate bastards. I'm going to shit all over the kitchen when they finally do turn up. The tight bastards.
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.