It's one day after the half-term has ended and the blighters who go under the name of students decided to make up for all the mess they didn't create in the week holiday by outdoing themselves yesterday, whether it be waste bins filled to the brim, more table stains than I've seen in my entire time working as a cleaner or just plenty of casual crumbs and other waste strwen on the floor. Bastards! The head honcho of the company is coming around on Thursday, so everything has to be spick and span tomorrow in case he makes a surprise day-early visit.

Yesterday when walking down Green Street, a road just off the High Street, was a sight to defy comprehension. A black youth in all the 'with-it' fashion gear, cycled along the road with neither hand making any attempt to touch the handlebars. One of his hands was pressing a mobile phone to his ear, as he spoke loudly 'street' with many an "innit" interspersed in his speech, the other limb was rigidly outstretched, the hand splayed backwards, as if in the frozen gesticulation of rigamortis. If one was being generous, one might say the latter of the two arms was there for balance. Not so much a walking cliche as a cycling one.