Pondlife

Newts, frogs, waterboatmen, sticklebacks, frogspawn.

All pretty disgusting when you think about it. Remember as a child going down to the local pond when the frogspawn had appeared developing? Remember the smell of the pond? Remember how many things you saw that made you go "ewwwwww!"?

I'm going to Leicester tomorrow. I don't need to be at my destination in Leicester until 10am, but my journey starts at 6.20am because I'm using public transport. Journey there: two trains, changing at Nuneaton. Journey home: two trains, changing at Nottingham. If I set off by car at that time, I'd expect to arrive at my destination, about 112 miles away, by 8am. By train, I'll be there at about 9.30, having endured germ-ridden commuters and other low-life that I'd rather not be exposed to.

I hate public transport. Well, I hate the "public" bit of it; it'd be quite good to have a whole train to myself.

Of course, you have to be careful what you become exposed to these days. Flu is in the air, colds, coughs, but I'm most worried about Stephacockaliticus. I've taken steps to ensure that I've minimised exposure to this deadly disease, but Herge is a slapper who caught it after a booze and drugs-fuelled one-night stand with Carol Vorderman.