Monday, 12th May 1997
Mmm, lovely coffee. Well, I must say that I've had a wonderful evening; the food was exquisite and the games, well, I don't think any of us have enjoyed ourselves this much in a long while. We must do this again some time. Actually, while you're there, could you unzip the back of my grope suit? I think I'm about ready to be unharnessed now...
Good to see that the popular media are frothing at the mouth again. This time they've singled out Manchester United FC to blame for child labour sweat-shops in India. Cah. Let's face it, none of us possess a wardrobe/chest of drawers/pile on the floor which is free from garments unslaved over by overworked, callous-fingered infants on 6p an hour, so we're all guilty. Hey, and even Anita Roddick bathes fortnightly in the blood of slaughtered schoolchildren, so nobody's perfect. And don't tell me it's too early to be degenerating to that level of sordid pseudo-polemic gratuitous nonsense: it's NEVER too early. Club me a seal, I'll be home for breakfast.
Coming up: Mother Theresa Fingered For Nagasaki.
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