It said on the telly last night that Oxfam can supply a family with water for just £2.50/month. Me Dad says we should change suppliers to them. Woof.

Even though I don't watch bollocks like BGT, even I still know that it was won by a dog over the weekend. It would seem alas that the one thing that Britain actually is rather short of is talent. The pinnacle of British talent at the moment appears to be a fuckin dog called Pudsey. Proof, were it needed, that this country most definitely has gone to the dogs. You two leggeds must be simply bursting with humanoid pride this morning. I could of course suggest that Pudsey isn't the first dog to win a major British TV talent show, but that would be unkind on Susan Boyle so I won't even got there. Now it's only a matter of time before Simon Cowell is romantically linked with Pudsey, we all know that. I use the word "romantically" in the loosest possible sense of course. Followed by the sordid revelations in the Sun. "Pudsey: My five times a night Bonio shame." All we have to do now is sit tight and wait for the album to come out. Pooh count: two. Like Cow