Never Let A Dayglo By

These bright orange 'Private Parking' signs in Pier Yard make an attractive addition to the heritage architecture, doncha think? Still, if I was paying close on a grand for the privilege of parking up my Priapus, I suppose I wouldn't want the oiks hogging my space either!

Crude Comments

What with BP's share price sinking this week faster than an ROV on an urgent mission to stem a mile deep oil blowout, I thought I'd use the excellent ifitwasmyhome.com (visualizing the BP oil spill disaster) to centre the leak on Ramsgate.

As you can see, if it had happened here, much of the English Channel would have been affected. Er, as well as the whole of Kent and huge swathes of London and the home counties. Ironically it would have quickly enveloped BP boss Tony Hayward's rural Kent pile, which is now apparently under police protection following threatening phone calls and hate mail.

£55bn wiped off their share price? They should count themselves lucky!

PS: Has anyone else noticed petrol's 6p a litre less in Canterbury compared to Thanet? Not that I'm too bothered as my motor's all electric!

Recession? What Recession?

Although I'm perfectly happy with the old Toyota Priapus, I'm always on the lookout for a motoring bargain. And let's face it, there are plenty of cars which do better on the mpg than the Toyota these days.

Which is why I was pootling around the interfrangle just now, scanning the motors on the Teletext site. I must say, I was surprised to see our local Invicta asking 48 big ones for a Ford Ka. Haven't they heard there's a credit crunch on?

Rammed Up The A*se

As I was toddling back down the A2 after doing my Christmas shopping in Knightsbridge yesterday, the old Toyota Priapus was rear-ended by one of those white Transit vans that seem to regard all three lanes as their own personal domain these days.

I must admit my practice of annoying van drivers when they're behind me by decelerating on downhill stretches, where they like to work up a bit of speed, and accelerating on the uphill stretches, where their underpowered, overburdened hulks struggle to reach the speed limit, may have contributed to the incident. But don't tell my insurance company that.

I'm A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Hereson!

In a mad moment yesterday afternoon I decided I'd forgo the delights of Westwood Chaos (too many autograph hunters) and get all my Christmas shopping in Boredstares. But after an hour of perusing Victorian bathing costumes and hand-crafted Bulgarian tarambukas, enough was enough.

I was trundling back to the Millionaires' Playground in the old Toyota Priapus when a hideous grinding noise began emanating from the vehicle's nether regions. Fearing it was about to burst into flames, or fry the Eastcliff jacksie with 20,000 volts, or both (you never know with these hybrid things), I pulled into that Murco garage on Hereson Road.

'Better call the AA,' I thought. And sure enough, in less time than it takes to say 'pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis' the chap had arrived. Much scratching of the bonce ensued. 'I've never worked on one of these,' he finally sighed. 'Where's the gearbox?'.

Now call me old-fashioned, but I thought I was paying my sub for him to know that! I AAsk you!

Ladyboy To The Rescue!

I see my local MP, Dr Steve Ladyboy, has sent out a circular asking for views on the three post office closures that are proposed here in the Millionaires' Playground.

Well, when I last looked, the Post Office was still owned by HM Government, incumbents Gordon and Chums, the very same party that Dr Ladyperson represents. So couldn't they just tell them not to go ahead with it? I mean, a report out today predicts the UK population will rise to 157m by the middle of the century, and everyone's constantly urging us to cut our carbon footprints and shop local, so it's a bit short-sighted to shut local POs, isn't it?

In other news, the old Toyota Priapus was vandalised last night along with a number of other cars in the street. Must be the half term holidays.

Blimey! With Dr Biggles taking a break from Thanet Life at the moment, I seem to have taken over as the island's Chief Tory!

Company Cardigan

How splendid to be back in Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula! Not quite the welcome I imagined, though. No comments, and Sir Roger Wind staring up at me from the doormat at the old CTM, imploring me to fight crime by placing his sticker in my window. I'm sure his gummy smile would be enough to deter even the most hardened bogus salesman, but as far as I know he's not even my MP. No, that honour goes to Dr Steve Ladychap.

Ah well. I had a good run back from Snives in the Priapus, and while I was there Alain, my cardi-ologist, fitted me for a gorgeous, hand-loomed organic hemp number, so I'll be cutting a dash on the Croisette later (Churchills). A bientot!

Tip To Toe

Ordinarily, of course, I would have been at Royal Ascot this week. I suppose my invite from Sir Alan must have got lost in the post this year.

I have, however, received an irresistible offer from my old chums at the Penzance Arts Club to join them for the last knockings of the Golowan Festival, so I've charged up the Prius and plan to make an early start in the morning. Oh, didn't I tell you I traded the TT in for one of those? All the celebs are driving them these days, don't you know!

The toe of Cornwall rather reminds me of our own tip of Kent, but with a bit more oooh arrr. Penzance in the south is a charming and thriving harbour town, while on the north side St Ives boasts a long artistic tradition and a splendid gallery built by those people who make the golden syrup. It was completed on the site of the town's former gas works in 1993 with nary a hitch, attracts a quarter of a million visitors each year, and has even recently announced plans for an extension. Hmm, perhaps that's where the similarity ends.

See you around the middle of next week. Or you never know, if you're lucky I might send you a postcard!