More Venting than Mauna Loa

Winn's status on Facebook currently reads: "is sad to be back in London. Does this make me tired of life?"

On the contrary, I think Dr Johnson was either mistaken, misquoted or simply didn't anticipate the 21st century daily irritations of life in this metropolis which rise in one's breast until, as I did today, one bursts into tears on the South Bank and screams "I can't bloody take it anymore!" to the general dismay of the thronging tourists, one of whom dares to point out that I swore in front of her child. Because people don't swear in the backwoods of wherever the fuck she sprang from. Besides, if you don't like swearing, don't go to the God-damned South Bank. In fact, best not to go to London, really. And the language I heard the other day in Henley of all places was astonishing.

Since I am clearly no longer allowed to vent in public, I will vent here. (Incidentally, I think this is where Dr Johnson's London differs. In his, venting of every description was positively encouraged. The wretched Victorians ruined it all.)

Top 5 Irritants of the last 24 hours

1. Flat hunting/estate agents. Can someone explain to me this whole theory of arranging a viewing with three days notice, then ringing half an hour beforehand cancelling it? Or how a flat can be taken between our viewing at 7.30pm and our registering an interest at 8.15pm? Or why it's allowed for tenants to yank our chains by suddenly deciding that actually they want to stay put? Or why the term "bedroom/study" is an accepted term for: "priesthole".

2. Rudeness on Internet Forums A show I worked on went out recently, and the vitriol on display in the forums is really amazing. The thing is, I'm perfectly aware when something I work on isn't much good, and all power to the people who chase down the faults because hopefully everyone raises their game. But this was good. There's no excuse for personal, savage abuse directed at crew members (especially the extremely talented director) on the internet when actually their work quality was high. Just because you didn't like the story, for God's sake! Settle down. You wouldn't say that to someone's face, so don't write it down about them. If you can do so much better, I challenge you to give it a shot.

3. Job Hunting I'm too experienced/ I haven't enough experience. Essentially, after a long education and an extremely challenging few years in a competitive industry, I am of less interest to perspective employers than a school leaver. This irritant will rise to No. 1 after my savings run out (which I anticipate will be shortly after a holiday to Sardinia we are currently planning).

4. The Olympic Spirit. If this means public money funding private egoism and national jingoism, as well as accepting, praising and even acknowledging one of the most revolting, oppressive, human rights abusing regimes in the world whose leaders I wouldn't spit on if they were on fire, then fine: I am all about the Olympic Spirit.

5. Peaches Geldof. I heartily agree with Noel Gallagher's assessment: "somebody, please stamp on her." I'm sorry, sweetie, but most of us have to earn US visas. We can't just marry them. Having said that, if anyone's willing....

I don't mean to sound so awfully bitter. I know it's the weekend. But ultimately all that means is more time to flathunt, of course. Meanwhile, I face excruciating penury, and I am no longer at all sure where my life is going. Apart from that, all is dandy. None of that is the psychic flathunters', or the tourists', or the Olympians', or Peaches' fault, but I can blame them anyway. Why not? I'm writing this on the internet, I can say whatever I like apparently.

At least this post has distracted me from The Tudors, a series that actually gives me heart palpitations from purest rage. "A man born to be king," intoned the first trailer for the first series. No, he wasn't. Henry VIII had an older brother, dumbass. What the hell is the point of disregarding history? I don't get it. If you don't like the historical stories, INVENT YOUR OWN CHARACTERS.

My head! Is done! In!

In the meantime, is there any chance of any sun? Even a bit a warmth would be just wonderful. Otherwise, next July, the last person to leave the UK, please turn out the lights. Because seriously, I don't think anyone else can take a third summer of rain, wind and genuine cold.

It's okay, I'm going to have a lie down now....