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Tuesday, July 20, 2004

The Last Of The Great Shoplifters

Oh, dear readers, I've been breaking the law again.
Fret not, it's nothing too severe - while my dark past does indeed include some hum-dingers of law breaking, I'm a respectable member of the community these days. Let's face it, the last time I had a wholly unwholesome brush with the law was at a toga party - and that was with a constable from the Home Counties whose sheet was too small. All he wanted to do was take me down and get my particulars. Well, he had a winsome smile and a gallon of vodka, so who could refuse?
Anyway. While it's a given that some of my more outrageous habits are dallying on the wrong side of a policeman's truncheon, I never thought that my propensity for walking around with a mug in my hands would be the one that could have finally got me into trouble. But then, Al Capone was caught on tax evasion, wasn't he? I have no idea where I picked this habit up from, but whenever I need a think in my hectic-meeeja-job, I grab my coffee cup and go a-wandering around the office until inspiration strikes. Or I'm caught - whichever comes first.
Well, thankfully I wasn't caught the last time I idly found myself walking around with a coffee cup in my hand. Because I happened to be halfway down the street from the Starbucks before I realised that I'd brought my charming ceramic mug with me.
I must say, I use my mug every day now. But is it used as a totem of shame, a constant reminder that I should be more vigilant against my own light-fingered activities? Or because it's a really cool mug that's so large you can try and drown Dame Kylie in it, before throwing her a jammy dodger as a life-line? You decide.

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