So I leave London town with a flat to my new temporary tenants having to deal with the monster mice. I say monster – if you had seen me in the afternoon yesterday it was like a scene from Alien. I could hear them scratching trying to get in. Even though I’d block up my flat (literally – I had it mouse proofed the day before) but still they try to claw through the timber and get into my flat – WHY! It’s not like I have a cheese board – I don’t even like cheese or boards. There’s a song about mice isn’t there…I saw a mouse where? There on the stair. Where on the stair? Right there you idiot are you blind and it’s got clogs on how can you not see a mouse with clogs on? Why is it wearing clogs? Because it’s Dutch I don’t know! Just kill it!

So my journey begins with a late cab and an oyster card with enough credit on it for one journey form balham to heathrow. When I get to Balham station I decide to take the train instead as it will be quicker to get to Victoria. So I ‘tap in’ and then realize I’m going to have to ‘tap out’ at Victoria and then ‘tap in’ again to get on the underground – two journeys. I’m tapping more than Brucie and feel like tapping out as in a sharpshooter.

I try to look cool by carrying my suitcase with one arm up and down the stairs but this soon changes to guess…a two arm carry. I guess this is why God gave us two arms. Thanks God. Suddenly I get a panic attack on the tube – not like a medical one but a real one where I think I’ve left the receipt for the mouseproofing on my sofa. I now imagine having to phone the estate agents and tell them to get to my flat before my tenants. The estate agent races round in his Foxtons mini cooper. Runs in the front door and up the stairs and bursts throught the front door just as the tenants are about to go into the lounge. He then jumps on the sofa and sits on the receipt only to look up and say ‘sorry we have to check the bounciness of the sofa….erm bouncy bouncy’ as he jumps up and down and then pretends to pull his pants from his bumcrack and retrieves the said receipt. But Hooray! It’s in my suitcase.

So checking in I get my customs form but no Visa form (do I need one? )I still never know how to fill them out anyway. This haas always been the case. When I first went to a recruitment agency in London I have to fill in my details on a computer. Question one ‘What is your name’ Me – Jeremy Hammett. Question two ‘What is your surname’? Me – Hammett. Computer – You are Jeremy Hammet Hammett.After getting a sausage baguette and a tea. I head through security with ease. Apart form having to show off my teenage ninja turltle belt (or are they hero turtles?) ‘Turtle Power I say to the frowning security person’ Obviously I’m not a terrorist otherwise I’d have a Shredder belt on.

I then walk into the purgatory that is the tax-free shopping area. It reminds me of that film ‘Dawn of the Dead’ with all the zombies in the shopping mall except here the zombies are people.I attempt to do a number two in the toilets as I figure that if I try to do one in flight then we will go through some turbulance and I will come out looking like I’m about to go undercover to bust some illegal mud wrestling caper

After reading NBC Business magazine in the gate areaI board the plane and start to fantasize about my seat buddy. Will it be a page three stunner or a glamourous actress off to become a waitress in Hollyland? Oh yeah I’m in economy so it’s an elderly lady with a soduku book – Do you do soduku? No I do voodoo..ku. Ha she won’t bother me again. Just watched the Social Network I ‘liked’ it HA! Did you see what I did there?
I just tried to watch Boardwalk Empire but the tv system on the plane is on a loop so you have to time it right to watch it from the beginning. I just put it on to see how long was left and Steve Buscemi was shagging a woman. I had to quickly turn it over incase someone thought I’d wired in my laptop and was watching films from that.