DECEMBER 31

FOR SOME reason, in the staff box of the paper I work for I'm listed as a news editor. This means I regularly get emails from nutters like this:

From: runningwater Great Spirit [mailto:iamallthatis@hotmail.com]

Sent: Thursday, December 29, 2005 8:18 AM

To: [me]

Subject: The deconstruction of the American way of life

Dear PRESIDENT BUSH

You have so little time left.

You need to get ready for doomsday which is now upon us, as I have a number of things live and in progreSS that will shortly for fill the bible code prophecy of atomic holocaust.

Suffice to say my work on spirals will expose the presence of inteligent design and also demonstrate the world to be upside down to OUR historical belief.

In order to unite the world through one RELIGION and equation it was necessary to abandon the Cartesian plane that is the foundation of science and use a swastika in its place.

I expect science will not have a problem with this as science HAS always been objective.

I intend to use my knowledge and position to isolate America from the rest of the world as YOU George Bush failed to acknowledge my presense here publicaly.

I will also bring about the end of Israel AT THE SAME moment.

I've had enough of Men [****]ing up the world and there going to be some changes on this planet.

Happy New Year

the anti Christ incarnate

ps I even carry the mark of the beast upon my left side as confirmation of my id.

What a twat.

DECEMBER 25

HAPPY Christmas to both my readers!

DECEMBER 17

AND so ends another week, a week during which I lost my ATM card, my MP3 player packed up, miraculously came back to life after being dropped, then packed up again. A week in which the rear wheels of my car have developed a scary rumbling sound and Iestyn has begun pouncing on my toes at four in the morning. A week in which Emric has started leaking green liquid from both ends and the toilet overflowed at midnight. A week in which thanks to a late story me and the rest of the production team arrived late for the work Xmas party and had to sit at the smelly kids' table.

On a brighter note, I spotted a license plate on the way home tonight which read "THE NAJ". As naj is short for nadgers, and nadgers is British slang for testicles, I just hope Mr Bollock got home safely.

DECEMBER 15

EV DOESN'T half get some odd emails, but last night she got one of the worst I've ever seen. It's supposed to be one of those "inspirational" messages but this one pretty much inspired me to puke. Here's some lines from it:

We have enjoyed the redneck jokes for years. It's time to take a reflective look at the core beliefs of a culture that values home, family, country and God. If I had to stand before a dozen terrorists who threaten my life, I'd choose a half dozen or so rednecks to back me up. Tire irons, squirrel guns [sic] and grit -- that's what rednecks are made of. I hope I am one of those. BUT it is time to change from REDNECK humor to TRUE AMERICAN Humor! Only I don't see it as Humor, but the correct way to LIVE YOUR LIFE ! If you feel the same, pass this on to your True American friends. Ya'll know who ya' are...

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, "One nation, under God."

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public places.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is listening.

Pretty... um... well, words almost failed me, but here's some I thought up:

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You think the 10 Commandments were a Seventies soul group.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You think a draft-dodging ex-alcoholic Yale-educated "redneck" is a war hero and a guy who was decorated for two tours in Vietnam is a coward.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You think the Internet is American because it's called America Online.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You think freedom of speech means you can say anything you want as long as it agrees with what Karl Rove says.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You think 2,000 dead soldiers is a small price to pay as long as you can keep affording gas for your Hummer.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You think Fox News is actually news.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You're not worried by the fact that no one was to blame for 9-11.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You honestly think a bunch of oil millionaires gives a tin shit about anyone other than themselves and their corporate buddies.

You can flame me here.

DECEMBER 12

SAY hello to Iestyn!

Iestyn is nine weeks old, white and orange and a little ball of fun.

Iestyn also has nads, meaning he should soon be able to kick the crap out of Emric and Madoc. More piccies of him to come as soon as we can get the little bugger to sit still.

EV CALLED me at work today to urge me to change my route home when I leave work. Usually I go home via the 5 then the 710. But as the 710 passes all kinds of lovely areas like Compton and Inglewood, and as they're executing Crips gang leader Stanley "Tookie" Williams tonight, she thought I'd be better off taking the 5 to the 605 in case there's any riots. But nothing happened.

DECEMBER 10

EV'S home, meaning I'm trying to play Call of Duty 2 while she watches the Fat Ugly Retard Show... er, I mean the Anna Nicole Smith show. I think I'm beginning to understand where Hitler was coming from.

DECEMBER 7

THERE were several things I could have done tonight that would have been a lot more fun that what I ended up doing. I could have moved the apartment a few inches to the left. I could have strained the cat litter with my teeth. I could have slammed my nuts in the fridge door. But, dear reader(s), I decided to go to Target. On the way I realised I needed petrol, pulled into the local Mobil station, hit the kerb and blew out my tyre. Bugger.

It wasn't as bad as I thought, as the way the car was wobbling I thought I'd knackered the suspension. I pulled up in the garage and saw it was just a blown tyre. "No problem," I thought, "I can change tyres. Even if the last time was in 1993." So I open the boot and find the spare. Although it doesn't seem to be a real tyre, it's more like something off a Matchbox car. Then I find the jack and the handle but I don't have anything to undo the wheelnuts. So I go into the station and ask the guy if he's got a spanner I can borrow. "Sorry, I don't have a car," comes the reply - and when someone in Southern California tells you they don't have a car you know they're lying. So I ring Ev and she tells me to call AAA, the breakdown service out here. I do that, the girl on the phone says they'll be 30 mins. With my experience of the AA in Britain I know that usually means "any time from now until the end of the universe" but when I call Ev back she assures me that AAA is pretty good about times.

So I get a coffee and I'm sitting behind the petrol station yakking to Ev for 30 mins. Then I wander back towards the car on the offchance the AAA guy has shown up. As I'm walking and talking this bloke comes up to me and asks if the green car with the flat tyre is mine. I take one look at him and wonder if AAA is employing people straight out of meth rehab clinics as he looks like he hasn't seen water in a month. I tell him yes and he offers to fix the spare for gas money. I realise he isn't the AAA guy but some homeless arsehole who's always hanging around that petrol station asking for gas money. I tell him I don't have the tools to do it and I'm waiting for AAA. Ev is asking me who I'm talking to, homeless dickhead is telling me he's got the tools in his car, I spot the real AAA bloke and head over to him with the dickhead in tow still telling me he'll fix it for cheaper than AAA, which is ironic as they'll do it for free. Eventually I lose my rag and just tell him to piss off and he does. AAA bloke fixes the wheel in about five minutes and I give up on my spending spree and head home.

And I forgot to get petrol.

DECEMBER 5

HERE'S some British cigarette packets my sister left after her visit. They have some pretty scary warnings.

DECEMBER 1

EV'S been in Atlanta for four days now. She had to go for training for her new job and she'll be there for another 10 days. So far I've managed to survive without burning the apartment down. Before she left, Ev gave me two strict instructions:

1. Something to do with her plants.

2. Something to do with the cat litter.

I wish I could remember what they are as the plants are dead and there's catshit up to the ceiling.

THERE'S quite a few antique shops near us in Seal Beach. Well, I say antique, they're more sort of junk shops as anything over 12 years old is considered antique out here. I picked up a load of old postcards last time I went and I've scanned 'em in. You can have a shufty here.