Enya died for our sins

Metro has a letter from M Khan, complaining about the Miss Afghanistan contest.
So he's still bent, then.

Hey, perfectlyvague - what's your Sheffield pyjama jump story? These young folk know not what it be, for it was cancelled after 1996 by boring b@st@rds.

In other news:

kitty_collar wuz robbed at karaoke.

It's remarkably easy to accidentally impersonate a wrongcoq if you try to join a library during children's hour. While wearing all black. And want a book from the children's section.

puzzled_anwen's birthday followed by JB&B made for a great evening, I just wish I hadn't been so inexplicably tired. Hurling imprecations at wrong buses is so much more fun when you're rolling deep. And kiss_me_quick was on particularly fine form. Perhaps those trousers are her artefact of power?

Camden is bad and wrong. Chalk Farm made me drunk on Saturday, and then on Sunday Camden's markets defiantly refused to furnish Miss Raichu with bat wings, or me with nail varnish. And if it can't be relied on for things like that then has it any purpose at all? It's just a pseudo-counterculture Oxford Street, except at least if you can batter your way through the ox people on Oxford Street there are things to buy.

Shrek is ace.

Royal correspondent

Browsing in Books Etc in search of inspiration for my dear mama's birthday present, I spotted a friend who works in Broadcasting here, and was having no luck whatsoever finding members of the public who could be filmed buying the Paul Burrell book, or even Speaking Their Brains on the matter. So as a favour, I stepped in. Which I think proves that while media conspiracies may exist, they're generally a matter of boredom rather than megalomania.
Inevitably, while she was filming me people suddenly decided they wanted to buy the bloody thing after all. Though the Nigerian couple refused to be filmed doing so for fear they might be hassled at the airport if they did. Quite.