July 6th, 2003
Ah, the quiet satisfaction of a bad job well done.
Yes, I realise I've been remiss (thank you Aziraphale) in posting to this journal, but a demon's work is never done, you know.
They thought I couldn't top my crowning achievement, the M25.
But I have.
The new congestion charge I quietly suggested to the Mayor of London seems to be exceeding beyond my wildest expectations.
Ken's decided to expand it. Soon, anyone who wants to travel within the M25 will have to pay five quid a day. The kerfluffle of course is much bigger than just the money. The unions have got involved now. Bad feelings, from the ordinary bloke on the street right on up to the government.
Far be it from me to blow my own horn (shut up, angel, I'm actually quite modest), but I do think I sense another commendation.
Ah, it warms my heart.
Drinks are on me, angel.
Current Music: Queen - Don't Stop Me Now
I really ought to teach you a less... world-altering hobby.
Have you ever considered knitting?
Also: you left something here the other evening. It won't allow me to pick it up. How many times have I told you to leave your false idols at home?
You're too right, the drinks are on you! They've been on me for the last month!
I tried knitting once but the bloody things kept bursting into flames. Occupational hazard, I reckon.
Oh, and sorry for leaving that. It's an experimental thing. Next big fad and all that.
Don't look too closely at it.
That is bloody impressive, I must say.
Thank you. And I do have to commend you on SARS. Just the right amount of fatalities to cause general panic. No use killing them all off in one go. Well done.