Hello.

News during the past week include the story about Oscar the cat, resident puss at a Massachusetts nursing home. Apparently Oscar's sixth sense enables him to identify a particular inmate who is close to passing away by jumping on their bed for an intimate snooze. The carers in the home are so convinced with his ability that they contact the relatives as soon as Oscar snuggles up. Now, this must be of some comfort to those who are tired and weary of life but imagine if you're a positive character who reckons they've got a few years left in them yet and you glance down to see the grim reaper in the form of a furry ball nestling by your side. That darn cat? Meow.

A recent survey has revealed why men and women want to have sex. Somewhat unsurprisingly the reason "I was attracted to the other person" was top of the list for both genders. But at No.8 in the female list ahead of "I was drunk" and "It seemed like a good idea at the time" was the explanation "It was my birthday". Now, I've never met a bird who stated that she'd like to see her b'day in with a bang. Or have I been hanging around with the wrong crowd?

The other day I went to Chessington World of Adventures. This entailed a journey on paranoid franchise South West Trains. Constantly bombarded with announcements I almost felt like jumping through the window. Okay, so there was the usual "This is the South West Trains service to..." and "The next station is..." keeping me usefully informed. But along with the sign-of-the-times fear incentive of "Please do not leave any baggage unattended..." was another announcement which beggared belief. Literally. And it went like this: "Beggars are known to get on this train. If a beggar boards your carriage, please do not encourage them but inform a member of staff". (What member of staff? I didn't see one on the entire trip.) Needless to say, this was like a red rag to a bull like Hoss. So, as soon as someone looking vaguely beggarish got on I was in there like a shot. "Hello! The name's Hoss and I'm here to offer you some encouragement. See that geezer over there with the bowler hat and a copy of Razzle? Well, he's loaded. In fact his pockets are bulging with more loose change than an arcade kiosk. Go on! Ask him for a bit of dosh! You know it makes sense. He's got what you want and you haven't got what he wants. And before you saunter in that direction, let me fill that filthy rucksack of yours with all the coppers I've been accumulating over the past twenty years because I couldn't be arsed to mosey on down to the nearest bank and be like one of those sad wankers who get their many bags of coins weighed and reimbursed with crisp notes. You only live once. Why not do it on South West Trains?"...The fact that the guy turned out to be an eccentric billionaire is neither here nor there.

Hoss.

p.s.-last Wednesday there was a programme on ITV1 called "Ann Widdecombe versus Prostitution". I didn't catch it cos I was working but I imagine the prozzies won. After all, who would want to sleep with Ann Widdecombe?

p.p.s.-if any of you chix have a birthday coming up let me know. Hoss.