The boys at the college next door are at it again with the wigs. They're eye-burning colours, curly, and have to be worn all the time until - I think - the end of the exam period. It certainly makes life more interesting. It also makes it easy to spot them around the place, which is all good, because it means you can avoid them.

When I had just left work and was waiting at the lights to cross the road, I saw a car pull up with two pink- and yellow-wigged gits in the front seat. I considered knocking on the window, asking if they were going back to college, and begging a ride.

But I didn't. Instead I walked home, humming Kenickie's "In Your Car" all the way. ("Give us a lift/I get so tired of walking...")