Thursday 13th December 2007
The picture is of Phyllis. You remember Phyllis, of Mum and Phyllis fame?
Yes, they really did bring their own toaster down.
Phyllis agreed over the weekend to be part of my little side project that is running. I admit I have to be very cloak and dagger about all this, but it will be brilliant! Well, I say that, it is a bit of a long shot, but it may come off.
So, my copy of the Guardianwork dated 29/09/07 has been all over Europe. It has been to a Swiss Bank in Geneva, up a very tall mountain in France, and also to the Royal Forest of Dean, in my Mum and Dad's kitchen, being held by Phyllis. What a journey for a thing that normally gets thrown away by the job-content, Guardian reading people of the world.
Dear Brian Barwick
As you will recall, I applied for the position of England Manager on the 25th November 2007. I subsequently received a message from you indicating that I had sent my e-mail to the wrong department, and so I resent my application on the 26th November 2007.
You will also recall that I have recently been considered for the vacancy at Tottenham Hotspur before (wrongly in my opinion) they gave it to Juande Ramos.
Can you imagine my dismay, when on the way to work this morning, when I hear that you are giving the job to Fabio Capello?
I have not even had an acknowledgement to my application of the 25th and 26th November 2007.
How can you possibly be considering filling a job role, when you have not even spoken to all of the applicants?
Now, I have to admit that, I do not have as much football experience of Mr Capello. However, I did offer you the incentive of bringing my colleague, Simon, as Assistant Coach. Since then, I have acquired the commitment of a work associate, Barry, who will be prepared to take on the ground-keeping of Wembley Stadium.
Anyway, please do not make any hasty decisions tomorrow morning.
I look forward to hearing from you first thing in the morning.
Honestly, who do they think they are at the FA?
I ask you.
I came home this evening at around 7.30 p.m. to be greeted as I opened the door by Hippy. Now this may all seem like a picture of domestic bliss, but it really wasn't. This meant that Hippy had been locked in the house since 7.00 o'clock this morning, which meant that I was sure to find some feline doings somewhere in the house. Normally, for some unknown reason, in the bath.
However, the milk of feline kindness shone on me this evening, as she had not done anything anywhere.
She really is such a good cat.