"Singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell is in intensive care after being found unconscious at her Los Angeles home," say the BBC. Doctors are mystified as to what's wrong with her, and say that they probably won't know what she's got 'til she's gone. Woof. Still, at least the hospital get a new parking lot out of it. Yes, as you've probably guessed by this point, I'm bored shitless again today, still it's now only 10 minutes to tea-time, and I know that there's a sausage in the fridge with my name on it. I love sausages, they're just so "sausagey" aren't they? Nogger's dog's top five foods, hmmmm. There is indeed food for thought....5) sausage 4) double sausage 3) sausage and gravy 2) double sausage and gravy 1) sausage, sausage, gravy, sausage and gravy.

People that knew him say he was a bit of a loner with few friends, full of his own sense of self importance, a bit of a bombastic twat who thought he was always right and a sombre fucker. Or a German as me Dad calls them. Woof.

Shite wasn't it? We didn't have any of those funny glasses, so me Dad looked at it through a colander, just like they said to do on the BBC website. Now he reckons he's strained his eyes. Woof. Of course we weren't in Jockland, to get the best view of it, thankfully. I'd be surprised if anyone up there even noticed it. "It's going to go a bit darker and colder than normal" - not a lot to go on if you're a Sweaty Sock there is there? It does that every fuckin day up there. This Jock moves to London looking for work. After about a month he goes home to visit his Mum in Glasgow. "Well, our wee Hamish, how's London then, so it is?" his Mum asks when he gets home. "Nae too bad Ma, except the bloke in the flat below me keeps bangin on his foockin ceiling all day and night, and the wee lassie above me screams and wails constantly, it dee's me fookin heed in it dees," he says. "Try not to let it bother yee too much, just ig...

Why do the Sweaty Socks get to see more of it than we do? Well, when I say "see" from what the BBC say it's gonna be cloudy as fuck up there tomorrow (just like yesterday and the day before that), so in truth they'll get to see bugger all - hahahaha! Stick that you Sweaties. Can't get rid of the fuckers can we? Give them their independence, now that the price of oil has come down, that's what I say. And the Welsh, they can frack off as well. Do you remember Max Boyce? What a boring Welsh twat he was. About the only Welsh punter who's ever done anything decent is that bloke who pissed off to Patagonia and set up a mini-Wales down there - that's about the sort of distance I like between me and the Welsh, thousands of fucking miles and a vast area of ocean.

Has been suspended I see. He must have done something that even the BBC found to be totally inexcusable, So obviously therefore we can rule out child abuse. Woof.

That's where the bastards took me this week. Came out all shorn and smelling like a tarts window-box I did. Not to worry, I'll be rolling in shit the very first opportunity I get, you can rest assured about that. The woman in their commented to me Mum and Dad that I was getting a bit portly and that she had difficulty in lifting me up - the cheeky mare! She obviously hasn't glanced in the mirror herself lately. No stranger to the cake shop that one if you ask me. I think that we might have to take our business elsewhere next time. I mean, supposed you went for a haircut, and after the "have you got anything booked for your holidays this year" conversation things drifted down the "Christ, you've let yourself go a bit since you were last in, haven't you love" route? You're in there for a fucking haircut, not a life coach. And IF she's so fucking clever what's she doing running a fucking beauty parlour for dogs anyway? Maybe all the rock...

Me Dad saw this poster on a nearby lamp-post whilst taking me out for a walk this morning, so he pulled it down and took it home, and then rang the people concerned. The conversation went like this. "Hello, are you the people with the cat who went missing, Tiddles?" They said "Yes, we are, have you found him?" Me Dad said "Yes, I think I have, I think I saw him whilst out walking the dog this morning." They said "Wow, are you sure, was he mostly a tabby but with two black front paws and two white ones at the back?" Me Dad says "Yes, I do believe that he did!" They said "Great, now think carefully did he have a little white ruff on his chest, about the size of a 50 pence piece?" Me Dad says "He certainly did yes. And a white ring around the tip of his tail as I recall." "Wow, really! Amazing! That's him alright, wearing a snazzy yellow collar was he?" Me Dad says "No, sorry, the cat I saw in the ski...