I know it's Thursday because it says so on my socks

I know it's Thursday, because it says so on my socks. It's been a busy week. Dumpy wasn't well over the weekend, and then the Dragon got it. It was a flu thing. Aches and pains accompanied by sickness. I worked from home on Tuesday because we had a dentist appointment, but I didn't get much done because I was looking after Dumpy while the Dragon took bed rest. On the plus side, no one needed any teeth filling. Both Dumpy and Dragon appear to have recovered now. I thought I was coming down with it last night, but I feel better now.

Perhaps it's an excuse, but all this has meant that I haven't written here for days. I did write a few lines on Monday that were never posted, but honestly, they just weren't worth posting.

So, what's happened so far this week? I'll tell you. David Beckham's father appears to have had a heart attack. Good luck to you sir. A picture has been circulated just about everywhere of a child that might have been Madeleine McCann, but sadly turned out not to be. Elton John appears to be in possession of a photograph that may or may not constitute child pornography. The photo was leant to a public exhibition and was promptly seized by authorities. The Phil Spector trial has ended, but the jury couldn't reach a unanimous verdict. They were 10-2 in favour of convicting him, but the judge declared it a mistrial and it's going to happen all over again. That was a well spent four months then. Charlotte Church has had a baby, congratulations to her. Boris Johnson has become the Conservative candidate for the next London Mayor. No surprises there then. Protests against military rule in Burma are turning nasty.

The Conservatives are slipping back in the polls, and speculation is rife about an imminent election. The Labour Party is enjoying some bounce from their annual conference however. Gordon Brown has played his part masterfully by claiming to be the next Thatcher and then asking the original Lady Thatcher to visit Downing Street. I think it may come back to haunt him though. A brilliant man he may be, but Lady Thatcher he is not. And there is growing concern over the fact that he is against giving the country a referendum on the EU constitution. That is going to turn round and bite him in the arse. Full marks to the guy that wrote "I want a referendum" in 10 ft letters in the sand outside the Labour Party Conference building in Bournemouth. I salute you sir.



The Telegraph petition for a referendum has now reached 100,000, and the Sun has joined the fight. I don't like the Sun, but it does move voters around because it has a huge circulation of around 4 million. That's four times the cirulation of the best selling quality daily.

The best news that has emerged this week however is that Alison Forster has lost her job. This bloody woman was the First Great Western MD and has been at the helm of the worst run rail operator in Britain since 2004. And she's been up my arse singing rock-on most of that time. However, there may be land mines in the garden of ecstasy. It seems that the new MD, one Andrew Haines, is taking over in addition to his existing role, which I find worrying. What's worse is, Alison Forster, that bloody woman, has been given a newly created role as, wait for it, Rail Safety and Performance Director. Yes, the woman who lost her job over poor performance has been appointed Performance Director. You can't write comedy like this. I'm still hoping they lose their damn franchise. I've signed the petition.