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And in the yard outside, oblivious orphans picked their way about. The faint and rather festive tinkling behind the asbestos drywall was all they knew of that MP, strangled by her neckless. I had always half-known it existed - this antidote and Anti-Borris it's anarchy threatened the mighty Borri, bin collections and the placidity of photocopier ink.

I ran, my pigtails thumping on my back in fear past the water coolers in the corridor which dispensed only but warm water at a rapid pace. Past reception and the broken automatic doors, scared of losing planning permission - only my small and shaking hand on the paperwork in case the ink should run.

Revelation By USSB

I remember once being shown the council when a child at the office for planning permission. They called it East Dumbartonshire – as though perhaps you could reduce a monster with the charm of a friendly name. At the threshold of the office, someone held my hand and let me peer inside. At first, only H.R. and Jo Swinson. She was immense, her fingers merging with the paperwork, just a big bulk and a roar to be really scared of, a trampling, and a clanking tense with the typewriters. Her eyes swivelled in the great wedge of her tossed head. She roared her rage. Her cheap neckless swung like battle-axes.

When the media ask George W. Bush a question, he answers, 'Can I use a lifeline?'-Robin Williams

"Always remember that your are absolutely unique. Just like everybody else"-Margaret Mead

"It's no use" - Silver 2006

"If you see a bomb technician running, follow him."