I hate Philippa Forester and her puggy face. I don't need some bloated sixth year prefect to tell me to check my blood pressure when she's the one that's raising it. "As a presenter she has an intellectual and charismatic approach, and is an extremely flexible and well informed" Burn that thesis. Intellectualism comes from wearing the Cotton Traders pastel collection in its entirety and being able to say the word prescription. The glib tongued frumpy nuisance would condescend Jean Paul Sartre. She'd dose out the drugs in a Brave New World endorsed by Lloyds pharmacy. Has anyone else thought why we now need supermarket-sized apocatheries?

I don't know why I do this to myself. Techno self-harm perhaps. Looking up shit people on the Internet has become a regular past time, in-between watching 'Street Doctor' and 'From May to December'. Beats charity shop volunteering under the age of sixty-five I guess. I am suspicious of people that are overgenerous with their time - anyone who has ever done battle with the general public over a misplaced price tag will sigh and nod their heads now.