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| December 2 2001 Sunday Wet the bed again. This time I had to make sure I wet my pyjamas as well, so when I got up this morning I took them off, laid them on the bed, then peed on them. No sign of any more affection and understanding from my mother yet though. Actually my mother is looking even more miserable than she usually does, but as looking miserable is part of a Traffic Warden's job description perhaps it's just because she's doing particularly well at work. She's going to be even more miserable now I've started wetting the bed. I've had an e-mail from Dean Furness of Crewe. He tells me that he wrote a letter to Tony Blair in support of the Mole Plan and he had a reply in three weeks. Tony has obviously got his act together since I wrote to him, and considering that he's got Ozza and his mad mullahs to deal with nowadays as well as government sleaze I think a word of thanks is in order. Thanks. The contents of the reply to Dean's letter were not at all encouraging though. A Civil Servant (again!) said that Tony had seen the letter and that while he could see a lot of sense in the plan, it was 'impractical'. He obviously hasn't recieved enough letters of support for the Mole Plan, so get writing, out there in Cyberspace. |
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