Ah The Commonwealth Games. There have been a few British gold medals already, I see, which is all well and good, but the highlight for me has been the solo synchronised swimming. To the layman, just so much splashing around on your own wearing an unattractive nose clip, but it's obviously very difficult and thus more than deserving of its place on the world stage.

It's so hot at the moment that I break into a sweat just thinking about sport, but I did manage to go swimming in the sea yesterday. Not at Brighton, I hasten to add, where the broken glass considerately left behind by a quarter of a million Fat Boy Slim fans will not be fully removed by the sea for another three years, apparently. This saddens me.

Competition time! Still stubbornly in pursuit of fame and glory, I am submitting a short collection of poems to a competition, but I have to have a) a title and b) a pen name. Inspiration has not yet struck where either of these is concerned, so if you are good with apposite names and titles, please help!

13:24

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