I went into the gym shower this morning full of joie de vivre only to discover someone had dumped on the floor. A real classy joint. What do they do at home? Smear it over the walls?

It is the latest in a series of hygiene horrors at Virgin Active including people leaving corn plasters on the changing room floor, discarded razors, hand-basins full of shavings that haven’t been washed away, old socks, pants and the odd sweat eaten training shoe.

You’d find better grooming habits in the chimp house at London Zoo

 

Mice made a major appearance in my life yesterday in an act of synchronicity that would of had Deepak Chopra wetting his pants with excitement.

In the morning, I read in the Evening Standard about a Chinese restaurant that had been fined by health inspectors for various acts of culinary terrorism including finding a mouse swimming in a pot of sweet and sour sauce. The picture, above, was taken just after he scampered out onto a pipe.

I then discover a baited mouse trap under the coat stand at work and, on returning home, there is a letter from a tenant complaining that he is now sharing the flat with the little scamps.

I wonder what the cock roaches are planning for me.

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