A Surreal Morning

We were just on the news.

Well, I say we. I was nowhere near it. A couple of colleagues were just shown on BBC News 24 standing on the street, outside our building. Why? There was a suspect package at the building next door to work. What with three letterbombs going off in three days, it was minutes before our neighbours were evacuated, police vans were everywhere and TV crews were camped on the street outside. The cafe over the road did a roaring trade.

Anyway, it turned out to be nothing, and everyone left as quickly as they arrived.

The bombs so far this week have included the people who do the congestion charging, a company that deal with parking fines, and, this morning, the DVLA in Swansea. Someone's got it in for everyone and everything connected with cars.

So the business next door, is what? What high-profile company feared they might be next? CIMA. The Chartered Institute of Management Accountants.

I don't know what the package in question turned out to be. Perhaps a badly wrapped stapler.

A Difference of Opinion

Those of you who are married (or in any sort of involved relationship with anyone at all) will be well aware that, every so often, within that relationship, disputes occur. You will probably also know that these disagreements are normally about ridiculous things that make very little difference. Toothpaste tubes, toilet seats - you know the drill. I should say that those things rarely cause havoc in my house. Mind you, our toilet seat isn't actually attached to our toilet. Don't ask.

I am fortunate enough to be married to someone who is fairly willing to put up with my, occasionally, bizarre ways. She rarely moans at me. She is, indeed, lovely and patient. But there is one thing I like to do (nightly, if possible) that drives her completely up the wall in a way that is almost impossible to convey in print. It occurs weeknight at 8.30pm. On More4. I am referring to The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

Aired nightly on the Comedy Central network in the States, it is one of the funniest, most intelligent pieces of satire around. We get it here in the UK a day later.

I love it. Gillian hates it. "He shouts" apparently.

Well, yes, he does - I can't deny it. But it's what he shouts that is so genius.

If you're keen to see what I'm talking about, click here. Unless you're my wife. Or a fan of the American government.