Mood:  not sure

So I think I'd better get the big news out of the way. Not one of you c*nts has given me any information about my missing bike pump. Looks like I'll have to turn to my old mates in the London Underground now, although Frankie Fraser doesn't seem to carry the clout he once did, he just doesn't have the will to pull peoples fingernails out with pliers the way he once did. I would get Mossad involved, but after careful consideration, I've decided that it's not really a state security matter for Israel, and I can't prove there are Arabs involved.

Synagogue yesterday was a bit of a joke. If you are all wondering how that c*nt Peter Hain is going to spend his Saturdays, well there he was yesterday wearing a stick on beard and doing his best to try and read Hebrew. My guess is that the Synagogue Elders only got him in because he has a knack of getting in some dodgy money. Show's what a bunch of f*cking retards they are. If he was any good at it he wouldn't have got caught, and wouldn't have to resort to supplementing his pension by picking out real coins from the fake ones on the collection plate, although maybe he needs a couple of coins to complete his 'Famous corrupt politicians set', you know the ones I mean, you get a coin with every five gallons at Esso.

Anyway as always, Sunday is my weekly trip to Brick Lane. Ever since that thing appeard in the Evening Standard the place has been beseiged by what I can only take as big fans of mine. They hang around the door wearing Black Balaclavas and carrying boxes of Milk Tray which they probably want me to sign. Well if you're reading this...get a f*cking life...plus I never use the front door of the Bagel Bake these days.

Shalom