Nationwider

I enjoy a good snore and have done so for years. It's my choice to snore and I'm aware of the risks attached. I never snore in other people's houses, or if I'm eating out - and I certainly don't snore in front of the family, except occasionlly on Sunday afternoons or Christmas Day, when I'll enjoy a crafty snore after lunch. I have tried to give up snoring - I even tried wearing a patch over my eye, but it didn't work. Although it looked quite fetching. What do the likes of Lisa and Corky want? No snoring in public? Snoring shelters at the end of streets? It's just political correctness gone mad. Mad.

Interesting. Very interesting... *heads for kitchen*

Cold roast potatoes.

Sunday 1 March 2009: it's closeness, and the amount of stuff I've got to do from now until it ends.

I went for the fried option last night (x2) with oven chips and cold ham, in association with Cholesterol - 'You're going sooner, but happier' ©. Eggy bread I haven't got into yet, although the boy enjoys a slice or two. I'll have to work on my technique.

The thought of watching tonight's cricket highlights avec la biere du jour. Creme de la creme, il s'appelle Claude.

A hot egg.

I literally don't know anyone who doesn't.

I paid the car tax and a new disc duly arrived. Then I received the reminder letter today in the post - 6 weeks late, and a week after I got the disc. Cosmic. Considering who my employer is, I shouldn't bleat on too much I suppose...

I'm convinced the DVLA consists of one person in a portakabin in Swansea. Their job is to open the post, shred it and then randomly send out tax reminder notices inbetween colouring in the odd tax disc. I imagine that person is called Merl and that this is their first proper job.

Hello, my name is Mr Driver's Licence, to be sure, to be sure. LINK

Sky broadband customer services. A new router in 24 hours. Check. Vaguely intelligent CSAs. Check. Stick your cable up your arse NTL.

1. People who have keytones turned on whilst using their mobiles. Why do you need that stupid beep for every single keystroke of your inconsequential, pointless text message? If you're old or stupid or deaf, ask someone competent to turn the damn noise off for you. 2. People who post private or inappropriate information as status updates in Facebook. I need a second income - so I'm going to blackmail you. 3. Martin Lewis Good website, but what an irritating, pious know-it-all he is. 4. DVLA If you're going to send out tax reminders, do it every time my bloody tax is due, not just when you feel like it. Or just email me a pissing reminder. Don't just not send me it.

Headline in today's Times: VIOLENT END FOR THE CELEBRITY CHIMP WHO SAVAGED HANDLER IN DRUG-FUELLED RAMPAGE Whilst their online version goes for: Celebrity chimp who savaged handler in drug-fuelled frenzy shot dead I'm sick of these chimp sleaze stories. There's no integrity in the world of celebrity primates these days. Clyde and the PG Tips boys must be turning in their chimpy graves.

I had... err, well... never mind.

You know you need to switch barbers when that sort of thing happens.

Is it just me, or.....?

Car park ticket machines where you can only pay with coins, and the machines don't give change, and don't apparently recognise any regular denominations in any case... And cash. Cash is shit. It's been handled by the dirty, smelly general public. It falls out your pocket. It's too heavy, or too light. It doesn't work in things - like car park ticket machines. It enables people to evade paying the right amount of tax on their earnings. You can't use it (£) abroad. You can't use the Scottish stuff anywhere (except in pissing Scotland). Ban cash. And councils. All councils are useless. Think of a good council? No - bet you can't. And if you can, you're wrong and probably crazy in the head. And trousers.

Excellent cakeage. Walkers French Fries [s&V]

A relentless onslaught of shouting, crying, puking, drawing, watching, dancing, jumping, rolling, eating, pooing, weeing, sleeping, more crying, more puking, dribbling, throwing, tantruming, bathing and yawning. Where was Mrs NW during all of this???

Dairylea dunker

My own bodyweight in Shepherds pie. Worcester Sauce truly is the condiment of champions.

Sorry to hear that Scowster.

After-school club, my arse.

Should have been jail. Really fúcking appalling. That really pissed me off when I read it this morning.