Thursday, July 03, 2003
I'm reading The London Pigeon Wars at the moment, which has given me a new word to use: twirtysomething. That's someone between 27 and 34. My friend Maggie (who's 22) said this is just a way for some 30somethings to cling to their youth for a little longer. To which I say, 'Yeah. So what?' I'll be clinging until my fingers bleed.

However, we are doing something grown up this week: we're having a dinner party. Unfortunately, we don't have any furniture, so it could be the world's first 'bring a bottle and chair' party.

So Henman's out. What a surprise. I'm always torn between cheering for him because he might be the only British player within my lifetime with a chance of winning, and jeering him because he's a posh twit. It's his dad that really gets me. He looks as if he's just had a bad strawberry. Which leads me to bad apples. Lisa is stirring things up in the Big Brother house. God knows it needs it. Here's a public plea: please please please vote for Gozzzzzzzzzzz. He has to be the most boring man in the history of the world. Apart, perhaps, from a former colleague of mine called Reg, who proclaimed himself to be 'an accountant with a sense of humour'. This is just stream of consciousness drivel, isn't it? Look, if you want biting political satire, read something else. It's my blog and I'll witter if I want to.