Well done, hope Buddy does well

Olivia Wilde and Toothy (now Buddy)

A total feel good story. A young girl has given up all (that's all) her Christmas presents (and that's some sort of invitation to young girl Christmas present suppliers to get a bit of positive PR) including a PS1 (or whatever, but that's a specific PR opportunity, right there) to adopt a Rumanian puppy. Toothy. Now Buddy. He's lost part of his tail (stoned drug using previous owners) and suffered all sorts of cruelty (before we go on about anyone else, we've horses tethered at roundabouts, we hunt foxes, cull badgers, farm puppies, and so on – don't ever tell me the English are not a cruel and inhumane people, your Royal Family hunt foxes, bullfighting for toffs with the odds massively stacked on their side).

Apparently, and hats off to Radio 5 here, for their morning team's general promoting of the rescue dog above all other ownership routes, Buddy has not only settled in, but has settled in brilliantly well. So good luck to Olivia and her family, and good luck to Buddy and here's to all the retailers in the land bunging Olivia untold late Christmas presents and here's to the retail pet suppliers sponsoring Buddy and here's to the local vets taking up the case too.

Just a little note to our neighbour, we know who you are: take a long, hard look at yourself.

Rubbish driving

I was in a queue this morning. Behind a slow-moving car. Speed limit 50, 60 or above? He did 40. Speed limit 40 or below? He did 30.

He went through the pointless roadworks on the green temporary light. I was caught behind the van on the red. That was the last I saw of him.

Lucky for him, I say. He was heading for a right good bibbing of the hooter if I'd caught up, I can tell you. What's the point of setting off at stupid o'clock and doing zero mile per hour? And what's the reasoning behind roadworks at a known pinch-point with nothing going on? Road + work-wise?

Sara Ege

Some sort of devout something. Has beat her son to death. Seven years old. I don't think any atheist has ever beaten their child to death for failing to memorise some rubbish to their satisfaction. Seventeen years isn't enough.

Splash!

The Guardian review is right, one of those television shows that's just too, too awful.

The Guardian review is wrong. It isn't so bad it's good, or so bad that you have to watch it. It's so bad you need your head tested if you go anywhere near watching it.

Oh, and diving isn't a sport. It's falling towards the swimming pool. Gravity does the work.