Good news day

I don't know what it is, but news seems to go in waves - not so much between good and bad, but between fascinating and dull. The past week or so has been remarkably low on interesting news, in my humble opinion, with only Zimbabwe scraping my patented Gripometer above zero. Today, however, it's been a different story and I can't seem to get enough of the stuff. The Guardian website, which has been annoying me almost non stop of late, has this morning featured several pieces that have driven me to post comments - and several more upon which I would have commented, had I not felt too stupid to do so.

Topics of note include:

- Lap dancing clubs and the lax licensing laws surrounding them. Should they be legalised further or should the controls surrounding them be even more strict? I doubt there will ever be a day when some men don't like watching naked women writhing around, so, disgusting and moronic as I think it is, better that it's legal than it's forbidden. However, it'd be good if as much effort went into raising women's self esteem to a point where they'd rather be broke or do a crappy admin job than shake their booty in public, where Jordan and Belle du Jour aren't idolised, where Nuts and Zoo magazines don't encourage women to act like whores and where middle class girls don't go on pole dancing classes at their friends' hen dos and think it's hilarious.

- Prawns. The market for prawns is so great that huge swathes of Bangladesh land are being turned into immense prawn factories. Farmers who won't sell their land to the prawn farmers have their fields poisoned. I've got about five bags of the critters in my freezer. Feeling a bit less excited about eating them now.

- Hillary. So, she won in Pennsylvania - but her argument now seems to be 'OK, I won't win the highest number of delegates, but you should still choose me as the Democratic candidate because ultimately I'm more likely to win the election.' Which is about as fair as George W. Bush's presidency. Americans would lose faith in their electoral system and in the Democrats, McCain would have a field day saying that she wasn't democratically selected and, in short, it's a terrible idea. Much as I don't think Obama will make an impressive president, I think HRC has to stand down.

- British charitable giving is absurd. More money is given to a donkey sanctuary in Southern England than to the top three women's charities combined. The top 200 women's charities together receive less in donations than either the RSPCA, the Lifeboats or the Royal Opera House. This is outrageous and should be rectified.

and...

- Croc shoes in health warning. These rubber clogs aren't my bag. I'll admit that I was briefly tempted by a pink pair but when seen in size 10 on the end of my pasty white legs, it wasn't quite the kooky, girly look I'd imagined in my head. And a good thing too, as the incidence of accidents caused by this man-made footwear is startling - hundreds reported on escalators worldwide, including one girl who had her big toe ripped off after her foot became caught on a moving staircase. Clearly there are some terrible jokes to be had about crocodiles being dangerous but I'm far too busy and important to sit around constructing them...

That's it for now - a random summary of left wing news from London. It's not particularly funny but it gave me pause for thought.

And, just to console any of my Faithful who were worried that I might be veering off into bad reportage and away from my safer ground of self-ridicule and mindless ranting, hear this: today, at approximately 07:58, I opened my wardrobe to extract the black and white striped wool dress that I planned to wear today. At its shoulder, I noticed a white thread. 'Don't pull it,' I warned myself. 'That would be idiotic, you'll make a hole.' Simultaneously, I pulled it. It became longer. I started to panic and pulled harder. Eventually, three to four inches of thread in my fist, I broke it off. I pulled back to admire my handiwork. There was a three to four inch hole in the seam of the dress. It was irrepairable. I took the dress off the hanger and placed it, with love and apologies, into the bin. To add insult to injury, I am now wearing a pair of trousers that should, if there was a god, be far too big for me. But they fit juuuuust fiiiine. Sigh.