Ted Max

I thought the details were on the market to the highest bidder, plus the media org willing to take any possible legal risk. Also, the Telegraph couldn't really just have targeted Labour and Lib Dems, it would have lost them any credibility.

When the estates went up, Tony, was there not a sense of progress and a strong desire to live there amongst the locals? I know in other areas this was the case. Interior bathrooms, separate bedrooms, all that sort of thing, perceived at the time as a vast improvement on the exiting conditions. Any insights?

Morwenna Banks "Aw don't be like that, Tommy." Morwenna Banks

It's my fault I'm being bullied is it, Moos? Blame the victim, is it? HonaB, glad you're on the Saxondale. I'd imagine it's uncomfortable viewing for you.

The young couple next door are having a barbecue. The smell of charcoal-singed meat, the clink of ice on glass, the perplexing music, all penetrate through to your small sitting room where a portable TV keeps you up to date with the afternoon's racing from Chepstow. Later, you risk a look over the fence as you water mum's hanging baskets. "Come and join us," shrills the hostess, not kindly. The husband is wearing an apron with the outline of a naked woman printed on the body. He throws his empty beer bottle onto a growing pile. Forgotten chops curl on the cooling grill. You head back to the 5:15, last race. You fancy the second favourite but haven't backed it.

More men should wear loin cloths. "Do what you want with me, Hate me and laugh at me Darken my daytime And torture my night" Pure filth, RosieH.

I'm glad you can make light of the situation. I've got a whole meal left uneaten.

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I think his 18 year old son was wibbling around with a violin on Saturday night, chanting on about being in love with a Fairy. Nothing wrong with that, Ma said, but not on prime time in the Balkans. Pa said there was no way he was playing that violin, either, as he was all over the place in the third position.

I mean, there were some nervous coughs from Pa and me when that nice Turkish lady was performing on Eurovision, and I had to sit still for a while afterwards even though my seconds of Mash was going cold in the pan. But casual chit-chat as to which end we'd like to do Rhianna while Dave from Number 155 filmed it on his Sony Ericsson? Have some standards.

I've never had a conversation with Father or Mother about which pop muppet we'd like to tag-team. What's wrong with you all?

How can you tell if someone looks like a bitch? Only, I think the lady on the puddings hatch at the canteen has a soft spot for me, but I wouldn't like to ask her home to meet mother if she's a bitch. What to look for, daizie?

I log on for a little pre-prandial amusement to find I'm being bullied and patronised by an intimidating minority on this site. The corned beef tin remains unopened: the Mighty White unblessed by Branston's Finest. I suppose the upside is that the ladies at Weightwatchers will have something to applaud when I tip the scales this evening.

I've got a tiny little thing that causes me irrational joy. Doesn't seem to give anyone else any pleasure, though. And I thought the piccolo was such a joyful instrument.

Come on TT, free booze can be had by crashing a few galleries. There's nothing like getting stripped to gills on the corporate Soave and then legging it for the 9:36 back to Carshalton.

I caught a glimpse of the cricket in the caf? at lunch A likely tale.

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Anyone who pays anything ever for art, food, drinks, travel, houses, nannies, skips, blinis, casual slacks, rare '33s, lawnmowers, black polo necks etc is a misguided, duped, dumb, blind, deaf, mute consumer. PS Tip about the Black Cherry. Go in, order two HeavensToBetsy's and then leg it with the free Bombay Mix when the Barman's got his back turned crushing his Juniper Seeds. You snooze you looze. I could tell you some tales.

It means, "I've really ballsed this up despite having weeks to get it sorted and now I'm right on deadline and the only straw I've got left is you, so please help, because I'm looking down the barrel of a P45 and defaulting on the mortgage. Help me please and I'll be your slave for life." ?Thank you in anticipation of your assistance.?

Damn right, Snorky. I'm smashing off a few private views later - gonna score some blinis and do a few lines of wasabi in my Farhi cashmere. I'm heading upstairs on the 176 too, even though I've got an off-games note.

I'm going to crash a gallery tonight, and get ripped to the tits on free red wine. Then revisit it all over some unfortunate at a suburban station. The rest of you bourgeois lamers will probably be sucking The Man's appendage - not like me and Dave. We'll be out free-sourcing till the last train to Redhill (11:03). And Dave's only got Zones 1-6 on his travel card, the mad fecker.

the council charge ?20 for up to 3 items Where do you live? (This service is free in the People's Paradise of Southwark)

That's the great thing about the EDF. You can shout bolloxs at the whole neighbourhood without even rising from your scratcher.

My black postman scammed me in the queue for the pizza at the Gowlett even though my lad never got into any of the 8,756 schools of our choice and nobody wanted to shag me at the EDF drinks.

What day is it today, PGC?