Back For Good

I've really been neglecting my blog lately, which is bad. I'm the sure the nine people who regularly visit (well...they say they do) were distraught without any posts for quite so long.

I wanted to post, really I did...but seemingly like the writers of Private Eye, every time I thought of something witty and biting, I'd forgotten what it was by the time I'd switched the computer on. And I didn't want to write just anything.

So Heather Mills got £24 million off Sir Paul McCartney. £17,000 for each day they were married. The divorce served as quite a convincing advert for pre-nuptial agreements, and also showed how bizarre adults can be. (But you have to let them make their own mistakes, don't you? It's the only way they learn.) Heather however, still managed to complain as she left the courtroom, stating, among other things: ("I don't want to comment. Except that...etc) that "Beatrice only gets £35,000 a year, and so she is obviously meant to travel B class''.

Hey. B class isn't all that bad. I do suppose it's all us normal humans will ever know, but I do feel sorry for you Heather. And your poor daughter! I do think however, that £35,000 a year is a fairly standard starting salary for a four year-old. I was only on £10k a year in 1993, and that was with minimal perks. (Sesame Street breaks and nap-time)

Anyway, I'm hoping Beatrice wouldn't be left to fend for herself, and her mum's got herself £24 mil... which I'm pretty sure could stretch some "A class" travel, and perhaps a new Robosapien at Christmas.