Toilet Gods And Their Porcelain Temples

The world was designed to spite me and every word I utter.

The glorious Indian I was so looking forward to only yesterday was tasty and glorious, just as I anticipated.

Until about 2-4 in the morning, during which period I got to enjoy it all over again in reverse, praying devoutly to the toilet bowl.

It's possible I'm being a little unfair, as I suppose my upset stomach might have been a result of exam stress. Other than that, however, I've been feeling perfectly unstressed, a serene picture of calm and tranquility. So I've decided to sideline the stress diagnosis and instead curse the takeaway.

The Chim-chim kids just got scolded by the librarian, and have, to all intents and purposes, completely ignored her. I'm mildly disappointed that she didn't catch them singing.

Are there any musicals out there featuring librarians as particularly prominent characters? I feel the need for a rousing chorus led by a lady in horn-rimmed glasses, preferably involving the swivelling-wheely footstool-stand things that help you reach the top shelf.

If anyone ever writes a Harry Potter musical that absolutely must be a feature.

Ooh, she's on a rampage now, for the printer paper must be refilled. Ooh-ah ooh. Bring on the high kicks and flying leaps.