Feel pants today. Today's hypochondria/symptoms feature a mysterious and painful headache and shoulder stiff from yesterday's enthusiastic snowballing.

On the way home yesterday I walked down the busy Fulham Palace Road with Kate towards Hammersmith tube station. Encountered five youths attacking a man by various methods such as jumping on his leg and punching. I think the fracas was snowball-related. The man had a cut on his nose. The scene was a bit like a wildlife documentary with a wildebeest being attacked by jackals. This wildebeest looked scared and shocked. And this being Fulham Palace Road people nearby naturally ignored the situation -- just like wildebeest that have not been singled out from the herd. I intervened and told the man to go away and turning to the youths literally roared at them. Sensibly they opted to run away from large roaring nutter. Well four of them did. The other stayed to observe that he wasn't scared of me and that I was a f*cking c*nt and so on from a safe distance.

Kate off work vomiting today so she is selfishly unable to inform colleagues of my masterful braveness nobility etc.so feel a bit short changed. I mentioned it to Andy and we invented a streetfighting computer game. The hero is a fat copywriter with the streetname "Wordsmith" -- whose weaponry includes cutting remark and ironic eyebrow.

Read on Jonathan Cainer's website how Earth is closer to Mars than it has been for 73,000 years. And how a lot of blood is going to be spilt this year. I've thought about writing an SF story where the protagonists were born on Mars -- and there was something in astrology, which resulted in strange patterns of behaviour. Maybe I'll write it soon. Or maybe not.