Dreamaticus

I was extremely upset to find that once again someone had dumped rubbish on the grass verge at the top of my street. This time it was at least a dozen litre sized empty drinking yoghurt cartons. I stopped to tidy it up and was joined by local pensioners. The more we tidied up the more money we found. The pensioners helped themselves to ten pound notes and piles of two pence pieces. I found three 50 Euro notes.

Determined to track down the perpetrator, I followed clues left in a van and eventually uncovered a story of a young woman who was living a double life. She had two husbands – one younger and one older – and one baby. She was commuting between the two families as a passenger in a Waitrose home delivery van. This must be the source of the cash, I surmised.

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It was a lovely sunny day as I walked down the street of fruit and vegetable market stalls. How I loved this market but I felt sure it could be contributing more to ‘economic cohesion’. I shared my ideas with Dominic West.

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There were 15 of us in the monthly editorial meeting. The elderly and glamorous matriarch of the company entered and held up a pornographic magazine. “Last month we gave you this to get stuck into but this time we have something for the ladies”. She then held up the first issue of our new magazine, a pornographic comic for women. We all cheered.

At this point a colleague leant towards me with a comb and said “I thought so – you have nits”.