I notice the control unit for Evil Robot was missing from the customer services desk at the museum. Well, although I've got better things to do than remove his restraining bolt, if he fires up I've got no way to bring him under control. Luckily this was the quiet shift so the risk to the general public was minimal. Personally I was more in danger of dropping dead from boredom.

We had a visit from none other than DW, our intrepid online journalist. It's always good to hear from him because you discover who's who in the local area. There's a Top Gear photographer who knows our boss. We have a lady from the BBC who runs that large screen televison mounted on the side of a car park in Wharf Green. She'd strolled past the museum on her way to an important meeting and DW spotted her. He called her up on his mobile immediately for that all important chat.

He is a chatty fellow as it happens. Apparently he's been the victim of a slur campaign from disgruntled critics whose sour posts on his news site got deleted. The outraged idiots have been making fools of themselves trying to mount some sort of hate campaign against him. They invited the world to sign up to protest and act against DW's censorship. All nine of them.

After that I witnessed an extraordinary re-enactment of his last intercourse with his admittedly gorgeous girlfriend. It was my own fault. When he started bragging about great sex I asked him if he could remember where his left hand was.

Mr J's New Coffee table

Our dance fanatic and all round organiser Mr J made a suprise visit. He's been a bit scarce just of late with his dance activites, but I guess now that a couple of night clubs are closing in the town, he's running out of venues to strut his stuff.

Not to worry. Now that he plans to spend more time at home he's invested in furniture. For the princely sum of