The thing about a haggis supper is it's a mind-set. I got a seafood curry and a pizza and a haggis supper the other night. The only thing good about the meal was the curry, and even that was basically watery powder.

The majority of the people in my workplace are 'bizarelly born' at either the end of february or the beginnings of march...they all get the same horoscope information from The Sun. There is one girl there who is Virgo and also finds astrology fascinating, flying in the face of typical Virgoan traits.

The time of chicken doesn't seem to be ending. Fairly constant, and I'm not even preventing it - I've been buying chicken and mayo 'seeded rolls' recently, at £2.20 a pop. Eating into my wages, quite literally. I visited the famous burger van again recently, and got a burger. Half way through I admitted to myself that although the onions and relish were hiding it, I knew the burger didn't actually taste of anything at all except fat, and after the second grizzly bit got stuck in my teeth, I decided it was time stop eating. The problem was I still had to chew the last bit and when it came time to swallow, all the horrible stories I've heard raced through my mind (about bones and eyes and all the rest, about it not being real) and I started boking and nearly puked in the bin next to me. They are lovely people but I won't be visiting their van again.