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This morning I had to get on a fucking tube train at 8.30. It was already like Egypt when I left my flat so the walk to the station was undertaken with a fair amount of trepidation… No, that’s not quite right, I had a mole at the counter.

Bizarrely, despite being air con free, it wasn’t to bad, possibly because I was expecting to step into a dog meat tagine, in fact it was preferable to stepping out of Victoria station some 30 mins later where the heat hit me like a wall, reminding me of alighting the plane at, well, Egypt.

At Victoria I grabbed an espresso in a café and walked to the passport office. I’d been given an allocated time but despite this warned that ‘my appointment time is not unique as more than one counter will be in operation.’ For the second time that day my expectations were dashed, the throngs of bustling, shouting travellers and a 2 hour queue were exchanged for a mere 3 minute wait and instant service. Just as well I’d gone in person as my cunting passport photos were no good, again. I’d already taken a ‘just in case’ set but as I’d had to get a friend to countersign the back of the photos they were unusable due to the signature being visible (apparently) on the image. Even more hair shreddingly annoying, I was told the countersignature wasn’t necessary.

After getting another set of photos taken I finally got the all clear, paid and then took the tube back to the office via Southfields where lots of arseholes with buck teeth and boaters were hanging about Wimbledon Tennis Courts. I’m due back on the same dismal route to Victoria later to collect my passport. I’m good though, just had some life-changing news which, should it come to pass as it were, will be broadcast here tomorrow.

Who’d have thought Molly Sugden and Karl Malden would be forever associated? But thanks to the icy hand of death, it is so. Both made their curtain call yesterday and another part of childhood is nibbled at by the worm of time. Bloody shame, I liked them both… actually, maybe the association goes beyond their timely passing as she was always harping on about her ‘pussy’ and he had a nose like a fucking cock.

You should recognise the bloke on bass, he had two mates, these days one fronts a famed rock band and the other is an icon, the latter often seen wearing this bands tee shirt…